Tuesday, May 13, 2008
An airplane's technical bible consists of two books -- the Minimum Equipment List (MEL) and the Configuration Deviation List (CDL). These vast volumes spell out precisely which parts and components -- even components of components -- can be AWOL for a given flight. They specify when, under what flight conditions and for how long. The asterisks and restrictions can be quite extensive.
In the vernacular, any broken item under MEL or CDL authorization is spoken of as "deferred." One of the first things a crew does after signing in for a trip is scan the paperwork for deferrals, making note of any pertinent restrictions. A malfunctioning anti-skid system, for example, can affect how much runway is needed for takeoff and landing. An inoperative APU (auxiliary power unit) can mean a lower than normal cruise altitude, or it might prohibit flights over the ocean. On a recent flight to Europe our SATCOM (satellite communications) unit was on the fritz, meaning that oceanic position reports had to be made the old-fashioned way, via high-frequency radio, a tedious and time-consuming procedure. Because aircraft are designed with so much redundancy, however, most deferrals impose little or no penalty.
Honestly, the MEL and CDL are not contrived to allow airlines an easy hand at operating malfunctioning planes. Many things, as you'd hope, are not deferrable at all, and any malfunctioning item must be repaired in a set number of days or flight hours. All deferrals have to be documented and coordinated between the crew and maintenance personnel, a process that can include a series of logbook notations, signatures and revised flight plans. During a delayed departure, when a crew member speaks of having to "finish up some last-minute paperwork," this is often the culprit.
Above and beyond the deferral process, no respectable airline will pressure a crew to operate any flight. The final call, if you will, is the captain's, regardless of what the MEL or CDL might allow. Believe it or not, pilots have as much to lose as any member of the traveling public, and don't wish to put their lives (or livelihoods) in jeopardy any more than you do.
Meanwhile, airlines are easy targets, and you'll hear all sorts of incendiary language used to describe the Southwest scandal. The carrier, in cahoots with the feds, was "gambling with passengers' lives," and so on. Regrettably, it's incidents like this that perpetuate the myth of the evil airline that doesn't care if its planes crash or if its passengers are killed.
In fact a serious accident is about the worst thing that can happen to an airline, with liability claims potentially running into the billions of dollars. The bombing of Flight 103 over Scotland in 1988 is widely cited as the beginning of the end for the fabled Pan Am. In 1996, the crash of a ValuJet DC-9 into the Florida Everglades was traced to the illegal transport of oxygen canisters. ValuJet was so vilified that it had to change its name, reinventing itself, at great risk and cost, as AirTran.
The Southwest scandal also offers fodder to those who decry the sometimes cozy relationship between the FAA and the airlines it oversees. The FAA has been roundly criticized for not catching Southwest's violations sooner. Some have accused the agency of tacitly allowing the carrier to operate in violation of its own mandates -- in other words, it knew but allowed it to happen.
But in practice, for the system to function properly that relationship needs to be a close one. In many ways, air safety depends on a level of mutual trust between airlines and their regulators, and nothing would be more detrimental than an environment of confrontation and intimidation. Yes, there are occasional conflicts of interest and regulatory foot-dragging (take the rules pertaining to crew rest and duty-time limitations, for instance), and things don't always move as quickly as they ought to. But overall the system works, as statistics clearly reveal. Traveling by plane not only is remarkably safe but continues to become safer, even as the volume of flights grows. Flying in 2008 is an estimated six times safer than it was in the 1980s, with double the number of planes carrying double the number of people. And as I'm prone to reminding my readers, there has not been a large-scale accident involving a major U.S. air carrier since 2001. If, by those numbers, the airline business is a hive of malpractice and negligence, then all industries should be so corrupt.
Do you have questions for Salon's aviation expert? Contact Patrick Smith through his Web site and look for answers in a future column.
Get Salon in your mailbox!
