(Picture from here.)
I saw the film Sully last night (Starring Tom Hanks. Directed by Clint Eastwood.) and found it both compelling and irritating.
The directing was quite good and Tom Hanks’
performance was quite good. The film is about Chesley Sullenberger,
or “Sully”, who was the pilot of US Airways Flight 1549 .
This is the flight out of La Guardia where geese flew into the engines of an Airbus A320-214 causing both engines to cease to function. Captain Sullenberger had to land in
the Hudson River.
The film is structured not directly around the
flight (though, of course, the flight is central) but the NTSB (National
Transportation Safety Board) investigation subsequent to the water landing.
And here’s where the irritation arises.
Though I haven’t flown for some time, I am a pilot. I’ve had the training, have my pilot’s license and have flown for many
hours. I ran into health problems a while back and that dragged me out of the air.
When those issues were resolved, the effort and expense to get back in the air
was just too much so I didn’t return. But let me make something perfectly
clear: I loved flying.
I loved just being up in the air. The idea of
bringing the plane up to five thousand feet and just going somewhere was terribly exciting. The earth is beautiful from
even a modest height. I was a fair weather flyer—a devoutly timid pilot. Once,
I reserved a plane for a flight to New Jersey to visit New York. I woke up
and it was absolutely clear. I checked the pilot’s weather line: chance of
icing. I looked at the commercial weather report: clear and mid-forties all
day. I rechecked the weather line: chance of icing.
I drove down to the airport. Checked it again.
Chance of icing. I knew that it was
just a stale report. It had probably been put in about 2:00 AM and for one
reason or another had never been updated. I called again: chance of icing.
Right up to my reservation time. So I released my reservation and drove down to New
York. I called on the way. Sure enough: about an hour after I left Boston the
report changed to clear and warm. But, as I said, I’m a timid pilot.
I also worked on several projects involving the design, construction, engineering and release of aircraft instrumentation. There are several hundred instruments flying in the air that I worked to develop.
I also worked on several projects involving the design, construction, engineering and release of aircraft instrumentation. There are several hundred instruments flying in the air that I worked to develop.
Now, it’s important to know that the FAA and NTSB
are a pilot’s friend and not his enemy. For example, the FAA has the AviationSafety Reporting System (ASRS). This is intended to incentivize pilots to self-report incidents. If a pilot
self-reports an incidence the resulting report cannot be used for enforcement
purposes. This means that a pilot can report something he did that was bad and
not expect to lose his license or be prosecuted for it. (There are limits to
this, of course. You can’t kill your parents and throw yourself on the mercy of
the FAA because you’re an orphan.) Instead, the FAA requires additional
training to overcome the circumstance that caused the incident.
Runway incursions are a good example. This is when
the pilot brings the plane onto the runway when it is unsafe, such as when a
plane is landing or taking off. The idea behind the incentive is to get to the
pilot before an incident becomes an
accident and both correct the problem and gather data.
Another example is the way that the FAA doesn’t charge for a lot of the actions required for flight. In other countries, the normal operations of flying are charged for: landings, tower interactions, flight following, etc., all incur a fee. Some large airports (like Logan or O’Hare) do charge a landing fee and some airports charge what is essentially a parking fee when you go in for a hamburger. But the vast, vast majority of airports, towered and not, charge nothing. I have made many hundreds of landings. If I had to pay a dollar for each one, it would be many hundreds of dollars. And, of course, I wouldn’t do it. I would land less. Pilots who learn to fly in countries that charge a fee have much less experience than pilots that learn here—which is why a lot of pilots-in-training come to the USA.
Another example is the way that the FAA doesn’t charge for a lot of the actions required for flight. In other countries, the normal operations of flying are charged for: landings, tower interactions, flight following, etc., all incur a fee. Some large airports (like Logan or O’Hare) do charge a landing fee and some airports charge what is essentially a parking fee when you go in for a hamburger. But the vast, vast majority of airports, towered and not, charge nothing. I have made many hundreds of landings. If I had to pay a dollar for each one, it would be many hundreds of dollars. And, of course, I wouldn’t do it. I would land less. Pilots who learn to fly in countries that charge a fee have much less experience than pilots that learn here—which is why a lot of pilots-in-training come to the USA.
The NTSB is similarly structured. It is interested
in truth, not blame. The NTSB reports
(all of which are open to the public here.) are beautiful examples of dispassionate detail. I used to read them just to
learn. Flight 1549’s summary report is here. The full report is here.
The investigation of flight 1549 is interesting.
It’s in the Wikipedia entry for the flight. (See here, again.) They used a computer simulation and live pilot simulations. While the simulations
suggested it might have been possible to reach either La Guardia or Teterboro,
it would have required an instantaneous response—an unreasonable burden on the
pilot.
The NTSB works with probabilities. At issue was Captain
Sullenberger’s decision to land in the Hudson versus attempting to reach either
of the two closest airports. The landing in the Hudson was a risk. Attempting
to reach the other two airports was a risk. The question the NTSB had to answer
was whether the risk of the water landing outweighed the risk of crash at the
two airports. In order to do this, they also had to measure the probable loss
of the 155 people on board with the additional potential loss of crashing in a
densely populated area. (Remember, this was in 2009. 9/11 forcibly demonstrated
the cost of crashing a plane in a densely populated area.)
It was not
a determination of Captain Sullenberger’s competence. The fact that he had
brought the plane down in the water with no
loss of life amply demonstrated that. The NTSB determines what happened. The purpose is to make the skies safer.
Remember, probabilities are a measure of what we don’t
know. For example, planes can get into spins. A spin is a stable rotation with
insufficient lift to maintain altitude. Consequently, a plane in a spin will
crash unless the pilot manages to correct the motion of the plane out of the
spin. This is what “spin training” is all about. So, let’s say, we have five
planes get into a spin and one crashes. You can say from that sample that
survivability of a spin is 80%.
But that can be misleading. Some planes can’t get out of a spin. The Cirrus SR20
is an example. (See here.) So
if your five planes are four Cessna 150s and one SR20, you’re analysis must be different. In the case of the SR20, it is 100% that the plane will crash
without intervention and 100% the Cessna 150 is recoverable. (See here.) Consequently, an SR20 has a parachute for the plane. In the manual, if the pilot gets the plane into a spin the recover is to pop the chute.
Tom Hanks was in another similar film, Apollo 13. There was an investigation
after that incident, too. This is
spoken of at length in the book and only briefly mentioned in the film.
Essentially, the event was caused by a long string of unlikely events that made
the explosion inevitable. Similarly, once the birds were ingested by the
engines on flight 1549 at that altitude, an emergency was inevitable.
The universe is deterministic. If we know
everything necessary, the spread of possible behaviors narrows.
Which brings us (finally!) to the movie, Sully. After this there will be
spoilers.
In Sully
there is an antagonistic, almost prosecutorial, interaction between the NTSB
investigation board and the pilots. The idea is that the NTSB is trying to blame Captain Sullenberger rather than
find truth. Eastwood has been quoted as saying the NTSB tried to say Captain
Sullenberger did the wrong thing. This flies in the face of my own personal
experience and the experience of pilots that I know who’ve been through
investigations. It is true that the NTSB attempts to determine all possible
causes of an incident or accident. This is not railroading. This is good
investigation. At one point Hanks told AP that Captain Sullenberger had
reviewed the script and asked that the real names of the investigators be changed.
They were not prosecutors and it was unfair to associate them so.
John Balzano, one of the investigators, went so
far as to warn that this film might have a chilling effect on pilot
reporting. “The movie may actually be
detrimental to aviation safety. Pilots involved in accidents will now expect
harsh, unfair treatment by investigators.” (See here.)
This brings me to the idea of true drama, false
drama and cheap drama. True drama derives from character driven conflict and
the quest for the resolution of that conflict. False drama is when the reaction and
quest for conflict resolution is done without any real conflict involved. Cheap
drama is when the conflict is artificially contrived so that it can be
resolved with the desired amount of effort.
In Sully,
the NTSB's prosecutorial stance and behavior is contrived to create the dramatic
tension and raise the stakes for the protagonist, Captain Sullenberger.
What’s problematic about this is that it was completely
unnecessary and actually destructive. The true drama in the film is Captain
Sullenberger’s wrestling with himself. Did he do the right thing? Did he make
the right decision? He executed his decision flawlessly—remember, no one died. But was it the right one?
Could he have just returned to La Guardia with nothing more than hard landing?
If he had made the decision to return to La Guardia—and failed—the lives lost would have greatly exceeded the crew and
passengers. The self-reflection should be agonizing.
And Hanks pulls this off. (This part of the New Yorker review I agree with.) He pulls it off so well
that the whole NTSB motivation is actually distracting. It would have been much
more compelling if the Eastwood had kept the NTSB as it was—a seeker of
truth—and have it be the vehicle of Hanks self-exploration. As it is, he ends
up fighting the NTSB and demonstrating it to be short sighted by forcing it to
do things that in real life it already did.
I don’t know why Eastwood felt compelled to take
this approach. Eastwood is a pilot and knows better. He is not known for cheap drama. He’s shown himself
perfectly willing to tackle easy subjects the hard way. His film Unforgiven shows that. Perhaps he felt
that the audience couldn’t handle such a subject in a complex way. Or that it
was too subtle for us. Or perhaps he has an anti-government agenda that did not
allow him to show a government entity in a positive light.
Regardless, he took what could have been a great film and made a poor one.
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