Aviation Can’t Keep Learning Safety Lessons the Hard Way

Tim Lilley, the father of American Airlines Flight 5342 First Officer Sam Lilley, is a retired U.S. Army Black Hawk pilot and current commercial jet captain.

I have flown military helicopters and commercial jets for most of my adult life. I have come to understand risk. I understand complex systems. I also understand, in a way no parent ever should, what it means when those systems fail.

My son, Sam Lilley, was the first officer on American Airlines Flight 5342. We will never get over losing him. It is a reality my family lives with every day. But aviation has never been about pretending risk does not exist. It has always been about learning, adapting, and refusing to accept preventable loss as the cost of doing business.

If there is anything this tragedy demands of us, it is honesty, transparency, and accountability.

The accident on January 29, 2025, that took the life of my son, along with 66 others, was not the result of a single mistake or a momentary lapse. It was the predictable outcome of a culture that normalized unsafe acts. Over time, exceptions became routine. Gaps became accepted. Warnings were acknowledged but not acted upon with urgency.

Aviation procedures are often described as reactive, written in blood. But that is a choice, not an inevitability.

We already knew many of the risks present in congested airspace. We already had data pointing to conflicts between different types of operations. We already had technology that could have reduced the likelihood of this accident. What we lacked was the collective will to close known safety gaps before tragedy forced the issue.

There has been progress since the accident, and that matters. The closure of Helicopter Route 4 near Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport (KDCA) was a necessary step. It should never have taken a loss of life to make it happen, but it was the right call. Commitments to invest in air traffic control (ATC) modernization and staffing are also critical. The National Airspace System (NAS) cannot safely function at today’s traffic levels with yesterday’s tools and chronic understaffing.

The Trump administration has allocated $12.5 billion to upgrade the NAS. That investment is overdue. Controllers are being asked to manage increasingly complex traffic with systems that lag modern aviation realities. Staffing shortages remain a real and unresolved risk, particularly in high-density airspace where margins are already thin. 

But infrastructure and staffing are only part of the picture. The deeper issue is how we decide when to act.

For decades, the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) has urged regulators to move from accident-driven rulemaking to data-driven regulation. The goals are simple. Identify emerging risks before they produce fatalities. Act on evidence, not aftermath.

In 2008, the NTSB recommended that aircraft operating in congested airspace be equipped with both ADS-B Out and ADS-B In. The logic was straightforward. “See and be seen” is not a slogan. It is a foundational principle of aviation safety. When pilots have real-time traffic awareness, decision-making improves. When aircraft are fully visible to each other and to controllers, margins widen.

That recommendation was never fully implemented.

Today, ADS-B Out is widely mandated. ADS-B In, which allows pilots to see and interpret surrounding traffic in the cockpit, is not. That incomplete adoption left a known gap in situational awareness, particularly in complex environments where commercial, military, and other aircraft operate in close proximity.

Had the 2008 recommendation been acted on in full, this accident most likely would not have happened.

That is not hindsight. That is history ignored.

Congress now has an opportunity to correct that failure. The bipartisan Rotorcraft Operations Transparency and Oversight Reform (ROTOR) Act would close this safety gap by expanding the use of proven technology in high-risk airspace. It does not reinvent the system. It strengthens it. It reflects lessons learned, not lives lost.

The Senate has done its part. The House must now act.

As pilots, we train to speak up when something does not look right. As an industry, we must hold ourselves to the same standard. Accepting known risk because it is familiar is not professionalism. It is complacency.

My son, Sam, believed deeply in aviation safety. He believed in the system and in the people who work every day to make flying safer. Honoring him does not mean preserving the status quo. It means being honest about where we fell short and determined to do better.

We will never move on from this loss. But we can move forward.

If we choose to learn. If we choose to act. If we refuse to normalize what we already know is unsafe.

Editor’s note: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of FLYING Magazine.