This is a Boeing 747(-8), “Queen of the Skies”. It is the second largest passenger plane in the world, with a max capacity of 467 passengers in standard configuration. The 747 is one of the most successful products in the history of commercial aviation, with over 1,500 built since its maiden flight in 1969 – a quarter of those still flying today. I think they are ugly, but I guess that’s a matter of opinion. This year marks the end of an era, as the last 747 ever built was delivered to Atlas Air to operate as a cargo plane, as most of them now do. Only about 25 remain as passenger airplanes, one of which I will be flying to South Africa today. This will be my first time in a 747, and probably one of the only chances I have to fly in this plane before they are all retired for more economic, fuel efficient, better performing aircraft models – none of which are as big or have had such a revolutionary impact on air travel as we know it today. At least not yet.
My favourite airplane (which I’ve also never flown in) is the Airbus A380, shown above. It is the largest passenger airplane in the world, with a max capacity 555 in a standard three-class configuration. Similarly to the 747, it is no longer being produced – but there are still many that transport passengers and I think I have a bit more time to find an opportunity to fly on it. Aesthetically – way less ugly than the 747. A complete upper deck, no weird humpback situation. The “face” of the plane is more proportional – instead of a massive nose like the 747, it just has a massive forehead. I can appreciate that.
Despite all of these facts, I really hate flying. It can take weeks or even months to mentally prepare for a flight, and generally the entire time I am flying I am panicking, often to the point of nausea or dizziness. The silly part is that I know all the facts, I know how relatively safe it is – I spend Saturday mornings reading about the design and incidents relating to any aircraft I care to know about. My most recent read was about Air France flight 447, an Airbus A330 travelling from Brazil to France, which had ice crystals form on the pilot tubes (fabricated by Thales) mid-flight leading to inconsistent airspeed measurements, which further led a less-experienced first officer pilot putting the plane into a stall while the captain was taking a break. It crashed into the Atlantic Ocean, everyone died. The ice-crystal/pilot tube issue was known by Air France prior to this incident occurring, and this particular A330 was scheduled to have its pilot tubes replaced with improved pilot tubes as soon as it arrived in Paris. It never made it.
I’ve read about every hull loss and notable incident relating to the 747 – I know what’s caused them, I know what’s changed to prevent them, I know what things pilots have had to be trained on differently to enable safer operation of aircraft. I know that out of the estimated 3.5 billion people that have been flown on a 747, only 3,746 have died in an accident. I know that every single incident on the 747 can be explained, and the world aviation authorities – made up of people a lot smarter than I am – have good understandings of what went wrong. I also know that I am really really excited, but really really scared to fly to South Africa.
Right now, as I write this, I’m on a Boeing 787 on my way to Frankfurt. First time flying outside North America. I also know about every hull loss and fatality relating to an accident on a 787 – because there has been none. I also know that Air Canada, who I’m currently flying with, last had an accident-related fatality in 1983. 40 years ago. And only 5 fatal accidents before that. Yet – I’m writing this because I’m scared. Irrationally.
I’ve been scared of flying for a long time, and as of today, I’ve flown 111 times over my life. It doesn’t seem to get easier for me. I really love airplanes, which people often find puzzling because I hate flying; however, I need to love airplanes to help build confidence to actually get on the plane. I love airplanes because there is so much to know about them, a seemingly endless amount of engineering, economic, and logistical things to learn. They possess a whimsy that I cannot put into words. They make my chest feel fuzzy with excitement. Just like the stars in the night sky, they make me feel small. I love watching them slowly taxi around the airport with their unnerving flashing lights. I like when small ones and big ones travel one behind the other on the taxiway. I like watching them takeoff like they are somehow the lightest thing in the world. However, I don’t like seeing them up in the sky, and whenever I do, I am thankful that I’m not in one. I especially don’t like seeing other planes in the sky when I’m in a plane in the sky. I don’t like how in an Air Canada Airbus A220 I can see the reflection of the bottom of the plane in the engine when I’m sitting in seat 16A, because it reminds me that there is nothing beneath my feet. I don’t like seeing speedtape on the wings. I don’t like the sensation of decelerating immediately after takeoff, despite knowing that it’s coming every time. I don’t like that every moment I spend on an airplane in the sky, I seriously worry that the next moment I will be falling helplessly towards the earth. The most frustrating part is that I know that I know better than to be worried about falling – yet I worry nonetheless.
I think it’s natural that humans are scared of things they don’t understand, and they are scared of things they can’t control. While I’ll never be in control of an aircraft, I do know that I can put a lot of effort into understanding how they work. So that’s what I do. I know this method is helpful for me because it’s happened before. When I was about 7, I used to be really scared of outer space. I remember so vividly panicking at night about how the universe used to not exist, so at some point it in the future it could stop existing too. I used to picture the universe “turning off” like an old tube TV – turning off into nothing, just as fast as it became the universe through the Big Bang in the first place. I used to think about what would happen if the universe stopped existing, and what that meant for me and my family. I used to be scared of how small the planet was compared to everything else in the universe, how delicate and vulnerable it is. I used to be scared of looking at the night sky because I worried that I’d see something falling, like a meteor or a star. Conversely, I also used to be scared that at some point the earth would stop working and gravity would cease to exist – which would mean that I would be the one falling into outer space, forever and ever and ever. I was really scared of the universe, so at a young age I spent a lot of time learning about it. Trying to find ways to cope and answer every worry and unknown I could think of. Ultimately, years later it was the basis of the degree I ended up getting. While I stopped being scared of space and the universe a long time ago, I have still not gotten past flying. I don’t like so many things about airplanes when I’m in them, but one by one, slowly, I am learning why they are the way they are. The most helpful thing I’ve learned is that at the end of the day, even when I’m sure that I am supposed to stay on the ground where I cannot fall, the airplane is exactly where it is meant to be, 38,000 feet above the ground. It is doing its job and getting me where I need to go.
I have learnt a lot about myself through my fears; for instance, I can be irrational. It frustrates me like hell when I notice people making emotional or irrational decisions at work – yet I am never worried about driving anywhere despite knowing that relative to flying, it is less safe. I know this. If I were rational, I’d either be a lot less scared of flying or a lot more scared of driving. Despite having all of the facts, I am not reaching the logical conclusions I would hope. So, therefore, I am certain of my ability to be profoundly irrational. This bothers me because if I can be this irrational despite knowing all the facts about flying, then how else am I irrational in other aspects of my life? Am I irrational in the decisions I make at work, more than I realize? How do I stop being irrational? Do I need to stop having feelings at all?
On the other hand, having fears has motivated me more than anything else in my life has. I’ve learned so much because of my fears. I’ve put a lot of effort into my job out of fear of not amounting to anything or not making a difference in the world. A lot of this is irrational, but it has gotten me to where I am today. I would not be the person I am today without being scared of things, and without worrying. Ironically, I worry that if I ever were to stop worrying, that I would no longer be good at learning or good at achieving the things I want to achieve.
Everything I’ve ever been good at is because I was worried or scared about some aspect of it first. That is just my nature. And just like everything else I’ve been scared of – one day I’ll be good at flying too.
astronomine 