Flying involves an absolute trust in technology and the humans who operate it.
When your pilot tells you there's a fault on one of their indicators, you believe that pilot when they tell you it's fixed and takeoff is now safe.
In recent times, the hurriedly released Boeing 737 Max[1] was clearly not ready for takeoff. In two horrific incidents, 346 people died. In both cases, the pilots weren't able to handle the software in such a way as to rectify a stall.
The Max was taken out of service. However, as the nation's focus was on all things electoral, American Airlines quietly announced[2] that it would return the Max to its schedule next month.
European regulators have already declared the Max is safe to fly[3]. What 's curious is that Boeing hasn't yet made the software changes that European regulators insisted was necessary.
In the US, the Max has passed its certification test flights[4]. American, though, understands that passengers will be nervous. American is trying to entice passengers to take a tour of the plane at selected airports[5].
This all exudes a quiet confidence. Yet it's one thing to patch software. It's quite another to ensure that those who operate it know all of its nuances.
So this week I was a little disturbed to read[6]: "Southwest, American pilots say new Boeing 737 Max manual may lead to errors in emergencies."
The pilots are concerned that the Federal Aviation Authority's manual for handling the new software in the event of an emergency is inadequate.
They say there are simply too many steps to remember. This, they insist, has