Pro Am

I like to play golf, but I’m terrible and never seem to get any better. Which means I’m always hitting balls out of bounds, or in water hazards, or into the woods. It’s frustrating not only because it means extra strokes every time I do that, but looking for golf balls is a real drag.

When I watch the pros play, they don’t do that of course, or at any rate, they don’t do that very often, and when they do there are usually lots of people around, people who see where their ball went, and sometimes even people who stop the ball from going any further, keeping a bad shot from becoming a horrible shot.

The pros also have some other things going for them that I don’t have (besides actual talent and a lot of experience): they have caddies to help carrying all their stuff, to tell them the exact yardage to anything on the course, and to act as coaches and help with putts. In addition, if a pro has a question about the rules there is an official with every party to answer their question and keep them out of further trouble. Shoot, I could probably break 90 most of the time if I had everything going for me that they do for them.

Of course, I have some things going for me that they don’t. For one thing, I don’t need to worry about the rules much, except in serious tournament play, because the way I play no one really cares how I score it. I also don’t have any TV cameras aimed at me, no is about to take my picture during my backswing, and no one yells, “You da Man!” as I pose, watching my drive soar hundreds of yards down the fairway. Knowing exact yardages isn’t too important either, because I can’t hit the ball an exact yardage anyway. So we each have some things going for us that the other doesn’t—we’re playing two very different versions of golf.

And I got to wondering if the same thing doesn’t apply to aviation, because when I look back at my professional career, and forward to maybe flying just for fun and personal transportation, I am aware of how much help I had as a professional—how much I had going for me thanks to others—and how much tougher the general aviation pilot’s job is. But, then again, the non-professional pilot also has some things going for him or her too. So I decided to try to make up a list for each, a list of what each has going for him that the other doesn’t (which also means “going for her,” but I just can’t bring myself to say “him or her” every time).

My list is not meant to be complete or detailed, just an overview. I put it out there for your comments and responses, which I would very much like to get, both to improve and fill out the list, but also to get your opinions: is this or that item really an advantage, or just a difference, or irrelevant or whatever..

Here's my list:

What an airline pilot has going for him or her that a general aviation pilot doesn’t:*

He knows he’s legal in terms of training, flight physical, and currency, because someone else is watching it for him.

He knows his airplane is legal and airworthy—all certificates are in plain view and maintenance has signed off on it in the logbook.

He has help—a copilot, possibly a flight engineer or international officer—with preflight inspections, W&B, cockpit prep, takeoff computations, copying ATISs and clearances, taxi routings, maintaining a flight log, approach monitoring, problem solving and checklists.

He knows he has a good flight plan that virtually guarantees a safe outcome that someone else (a dispatcher) has prepared and taken equal responsibility for.

He has the most current facilities information in the form of complete NOTAMS.

He knows he can make a safe takeoff, even after an engine failure.

He knows he can reach and land at a safe airport if he loses an engine, and he knows he can go around on the remaining engine or engines at any point prior to touchdown, if necessary.

He knows he can handle virtually any systems abnormality or malfunction enroute.

He knows he has the performance and equipment to handle, or the information to avoid, adverse weather—snow, ice, icing, thunderstorms, low visibilities, turbulence.

He has almost instantaneous access to outside, expert help—company operations, engineering, legal.

He knows his flight is being monitored and that he will be notified if anything significant changes enroute—destination or alternate weather, delays, facility outages, severe turbulence or icing reports, customs problems, curfew problems—anything that might adversely affect the safe outcome of the flight as planned.

He has another set of eyes and ears to catch his little mistakes before they become big mistakes.

What a general aviation pilot has going for him or her that an airline pilot does not:

He only has to comply with Parts 61 and 91 of the FARs.

No one is looking over his shoulder and second guessing him, neither in the cockpit nor from the outside.

He never has to keep an eye on a weak copilot and decide when he needs to instruct or intervene and he never has to fly with a difficult copilot, one that is argumentative, combative, competitive, lazy, uncooperative, or unresponsive.

He doesn’t have to coordinate with a cabin crew and he doesn’t have to make passenger announcements.

He can take as much fuel as he wants, and usually does by filling the tanks.

He has complete freedom to choose where he flies, when he flies, by which rules, and along which routes to an airport of his choice.

He doesn’t have a schedule to keep, which means there is no pressure to arrive on time.

The more time, money, and effort he is willing to expend, the closer he can come to having the best of both professional and general aviation.

*What follows applies to a large extent to all professionally flown operations, but in particular airline ( Part 121) operations. Professional pilots operating under other parts such as Part 135 (air taxi) and Part 91 (corporate) will still have many of these things going for them, but not all will be required or available—there is no dispatch requirement outside of Part 121 scheduled service, for instance.