George’s Point of View

I hope that all of St George’s licensees have been retested.

Anthony St. George was convicted and sentenced to prison on 15 counts of conspiracy and submitting false statements on Federal AviationAdministration (FAA) certifications. At the time, St. George was a designated mechanical examiner for St. George Aviation whose job was to administer FAA tests air-frame and powerplant tests to mechanics after mechanics took the prescribed class.Not only did St. George provide test answers, he skipped segments of the tests and issued certifications when the office was closed.

See the Official Whistleblower Press Release

For some things, you don’t need experts.

Anyone who has ever attempted driving cross-country without taking an overnight knows the answer to the question of whether or not fatigue affects your judgment while driving. Of course fatigue has an affect on making serious assessments. It happens while driving on the nation’s highways, so why should it be any different on the nation’s skyways?

But of course the experts have to chime in. At least this time they agree with the rest of the real world that fatigue is hazardous to judgement. Furthermore, there is airline culpability here, since those low-wage pilots were flying cross-country just to get TO work, there’s no way they could start their shift fresh. Pilot Marvin Renslow had flown from his Florida residence to Newark and either had no hotel room, stayed up, or napped in the Newark crew lounge (which at Colgan Air is a fireable offense.) His abysmal training/test record stands as its own worst advocate. Co-pilot Rebecca Shaw who lived in Seattle had just pulled an all-nightter so she could get a free ride to work–and she was sick.

The pilot and co-pilot of the Colgan flight were facing multiple issues. The speed of the plane had dropped. Ice had gathered on the wings. The shaker stick had engaged. Neither pilot nor co-pilot appeared to be familiar with how to handle icing; neither were adequately grounded on emergency procedure; neither knew whether this was a wing or tail stall (which affected whether or not the nose should be down); and neither knew what to do with the shaker stick.

That the pilots were discussing subjects not related to flying is a “red herring.”

Admittedly, they could have been paying more attention to what was going on, but think of how many of us who have driven long distances use conversation to help us stay alert in similar circumstances. Even if they’d been speaking exclusively of the emergency, doing so would not have been the magic bullet that filled in the gaps left by inadequate training. They still would not have known what to do.

Remember the story of the boy who cried wolf? In the days when people’s lives depended on their herds, someone had to be there to watch over them. So our boy had the watch, and got tired, or was mischievous, or maybe he fell asleep, or was just plain old bored. Whatever the reason, he claimed to see a wolf when there wasn’t one. So the whole town went into overdrive emergency mode, and turned out in full force to protect the herd. But of course, there was no wolf. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, patted the boy on the back sympathetically, and went back to what they were doing. Everything got back to normal. After a time, the boy, for whatever the reason, got bored again, or tired, or mischievous. Maybe he liked all that energy or attention he got the first time he’d cried wolf. Whatever the reason, he did it again. And of course the town rose up into emergency overdrive again, bringing swords and pickaxes and plowshares and whatnot, but of course, there was no wolf. So when the townspeople headed back, they didn’t amend their procedures; they didn’t put up cameras, or send a new watch team in. No pat on the back for the boy this time–they just went back to what they were doing. And of course, the infamous third time he called, the town rose to the occasion, but there was no occasion. They had another chance to amend their procedure, but no, this time they glared at the boy, and went back to what they were doing. This is when they should have put someone else there, because he’d lost all credibility. It was inevitable that now that everyone was desensitized, the wolf was going to show up. And so he did. And of course, the boy cried wolf this time because this time there was a wolf, and of course as the story goes, by now no one believed him when he sounded the alarm, even though this time it was really an emergency.

So, this is why I have been wrestling with whether or not to write about the Northwestern Nashville event. The one where the plane was stopped over a suspicious looking package that turned out to be christmas ornaments. The one that has figured so highly in the news. It seems to be very important that 75 passengers and five crew members were evacuated, screened and for two hours, dogs and a bomb unit searched the plane and nothing was found. The plane went on its way.

But here’s the rub.

This was an emergency procedure. The package could have been dangerous. It could have been a red herring, while something else was on the plane that was more dangerous. The boy did NOT cry wolf. The boy did his job. The herd was safe, and went on its way unharmed.

This is a non-event. Passengers reboarded after about two hours and the flight continued. A few people had their schedules rattled. Maybe a little more importantly, a few people had their calm rattled, but ultimately nothing was lost but a few hours. This was a good thing for all concerned. Can you say “Your Homeland Security Dollars At Work?”

It is important for us to remember that the watch worked.

Perhaps the whole emergency procedure turned out in the long run to be nothing more than a drill. But the value of a drill is that it hones skill. Practice builds expertise.

I am sure in some countries, anti-American spindoctors are chuckling over keystone-cop-three-stooges retellings of our efforts at national security. I hope there are no such versions in this country. Because the watch worked.

The package could have meant another disaster. It could have been bad news. It could have meant the end for 80 individuals, and grief and terror for the rest of the country. Instead, it was just another piece of lint that got caught in the filter.

We should be thrilled at the effectiveness at the filter, not ridiculing the process anywhere (except perhaps on Saturday Night Live or in the desperate humor of late night talk show hosts no one is taking seriously anyway.)

We should not be distracted by this non-event. We should be glad that our emergency crews are out there, doing their jobs, flexing their muscles, refining their procedures and keeping the watch. In the words of Winston Churchill, It is no use saying,” ‘We are doing our best.’ We have got to succeed in doing what is necessary.”

We are doing what is necessary.

The boy has not cried wolf. Neither should the media.