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For the past 100 years, everyone in the aviation business has been talking about proficiency, how we all must be proficient at what we do in the air and how we have to be proficient when practical tests roll around. CFIIs do Instrument Proficiency Checks because as CFIs we’re responsible to train pilot applicants to acceptable standards — that is to say proficiency — and so on. Every aviation magazine, newspaper, club newsletter in the world has articles on proficiency and how it relates to our safety. Then there are all those accident reports, too … The more I think about it, proficiency seems to be one of those things everybody knows about but no one can define!
Curiosity got the better of me, so here are a couple of definitions from the 1828 Webster’s Dictionary (Hey, that’s close enough for me!):
Pro·fi’cien·cy, n. [from L. proficiens, from proficio, to advance forward; pro and facio, to make.] Advance in the acquisition of any art, science or knowledge; improvement; progression in knowledge. Students are examined that they may manifest their proficiency in their studies or in knowledge.
Well, that was a little help, but now we need to know what proficient means …
Pro·fi’cient, n. One who has made considerable advances in any business, art, science or branch of learning; as a proficient in a trade or occupation; a proficient in mathematics, in anatomy, in music, etc.
By the way, I looked in contemporary dictionaries, too; interestingly, the definitions haven’t changed substantially in 175 years. Isn’t the Internet marvelous?
These definitions seem a bit limited to me, because even though we use the words proficient and proficiency, they’re not exactly what we mean, really; the reality is quite a bit deeper, in my opinion. How-to articles often seem to ignore everything except technique — how-to do the perfect landing, the perfect cross-country flight plan, the perfect clearing turn, etc.
When we aviation educators talk about someone being proficient as a pilot, it seems that we’re talking about five things:
§ Is the person capable of performing the maneuvers? (Has the skill to apply the appropriate control inputs at the appropriate times.)
§ Does the person know when to use the maneuvers?
§ Does the person understand the limitations of the machine regarding the maneuvers?
§ Does the person know why to use the maneuvers in the given set of circumstances?
§ Does the person use correct and logical reasoning to put the whole picture together?
Remember that when we CFIs work with someone for a certificate, rating, flight review or whatever, the way we determine if we should put our name in that logbook is to see if they can do things beyond just move the controls. That sounds like the correlation level of learning to me.
How about an example? What about crosswind takeoffs?
Here we go. We taxi out and on the way look at the windsock. Sho’nuff, there’s a crosswind. But what about that crosswind? What do we expect our victim to do? Probably everything that follows is obvious for crosswind maneuvering, but when you apply this process to other knowledge and skill areas, it may be much more subtle. But I digress … back to the crosswind.
We’d hope to see our aviator do several things, actually. First, they should notice that there is a crosswind, make an estimate of how strong it is, and from which direction it’s coming relative to our runway. Not only that, but if necessary, use the proper control inputs to taxi (you can always tell a tail-dragger pilot, right?).
Next, is this crosswind within the limitations of the machine we’re flying? You know, the factory-determined demonstrated crosswind component and all that sort of thing. Or does our pilot even recall there’s such a thing as the demonstrated crosswind component?
Then, how about whether this particular crosswind is within their limitations? Do they have the skill to handle it? What they need to do, and when, with the flight controls? How recently have they practiced? Dirty Harry, in the movie Magnum Force, said more than once, “A man’s got to know his limitations!”
Finally, if the wind’s sufficiently strong, do we really need to make this flight? What if it gets stronger while we’re out? Will we still be able to get back to home plate?
Any of this sound familiar? Hope so, because these are the five areas of situational awareness: the machine, the environment, the mission (why we’re flying today), ourselves — how’re we doing, and finally, ourselves again — what’s our decision-making process?
In any flight training (new stuff) or maintaining proficiency environment (flight reviews, recurrent training, simulator work, etc.), the ultimate goal is to provide the pilot with a “tool box” of knowledge and skill to carry along in their mental back seat so that wherever they are or whatever they're doing, if they reach into that tool box for a wrench, they will find a wrench and not a hammer! Always use the right tool for the job, because not every problem is a nail. A pilot's comfort level (i.e., how safe they are) usually is based on how they feel about each of these situational awareness factors. Remove one (or more), and whatever situation they're in will deteriorate quickly. We've all been there ... insert your favorite “there I was” story here.
One of my great examiner annoyances is to see people who’ve been trained all the way to the practical test without understanding what they’re doing and end up asking me “Should I turn downwind now?” — among other things they should know by this time.
Is such a person proficient? Are they ready to be Pilot In Command? Often, when a DPE says something like, “Today we met the minimum standard” on a practical test, this is what they mean.
What do you do if you encounter such a person on a Flight Review or Instrument Proficiency Check? Do they complete the review or proficiency check that day?
Do you address this sort of thing when you do recurrent training?
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Aviation Training