Remember the first time you tried to taxi an airplane? You probably tried to steer with the yoke, inadvertently added brakes, and wallowed like a drunken goose.
By the second or third flight lesson, you were steering with the rudder pedals and used just enough power to avoid stomping on the brakes. By the third lesson, you used the perfect amount of power to avoid the need for brakes, and you even applied appropriate crosswind correction.
You did this because learning took place.
This goes to show that the first attempt at performing the skill is often clumsy and slow, but with practice, performance gets better and better. This is one of the reasons there is so much repetition in flight training—especially when it comes to takeoffs and landings. According to accident statistics compiled by the various alphabet groups, landings are when the most accidents and incidents happen. This is why they deserve so much practice.
The Law of Exercise
In the Aviation Instructor’s Handbook (FAA-H-8083-9), you will find the six principles, sometimes called the “laws of learning.” There are readiness, exercise, effect, primacy, intensity, and recency. The law of exercise states that those things most often repeated are best remembered.
It is up to the instructor and, to some extent, the flight school to provide opportunities for the learner to achieve this exercise through practice. And you will note a great deal of that practice happens in the pattern as most primary flight lessons involve multiple takeoffs and landings. This is particularly true if the learner is pre-solo.
Some learners become frustrated with the repetition. “We’ve already done this. Why am I doing this again?” the learner will ask. The best instructors will introduce the concept of the level of learning right off the bat by showing them the airman certification standards, syllabus, and FAR 61.87. You don’t need to go into great detail, just note: “The ACS has the minimum standards you will need to achieve for the certificate or rating, the syllabus shows us what you will learn and the order to how it will be taught and the minimum passing standards for each lesson, and FAR 61.87 has the 15 things you need to be able to do in order to solo.”
It is up to the CFI to detail the link between the required knowledge—for example, how the airspeed indicator works—and the skill being practiced, and this should be noted in the lesson briefing. When the instructor explains the objective of the lesson, expectations, and performance standards—along with how to apply this skill in the real world—this helps with retention and problem-solving.
I will never forget the day one of the private pilots I helped train reported the failure of the airspeed indicator over the unicom. He was in the pattern and returning for landing. His mother worked at the front desk and, when she heard this, she marched back to my desk, sat down, and wanted to know if her son was in trouble. I assured her that he had been trained to fly power settings and visual cues in addition to airspeeds—and he landed just fine, remarking that while the failure of the airspeed indicator was an annoyance, the situation was not terribly challenging as he understood the relationship between power settings and outside visual cues. There is a reason CFIs have their learners practice approaches using engine power setting and outside references and not solely on airspeed indications. We file these under the heading of “just in case it happens to you,” because it has happened to another pilot.
Sometimes, the reason is missing from the explanation. I recently overheard a freshly minted CFI arguing that the chandelle, a maneuver required to be learned by commercial pilots, is antiquated and need not be taught anymore. He had acquired his commercial, instructor, and instrument instructor certificates in one month, as he was destined for the airlines. Apparently, the accelerated program he attended taught the chandelle because “it’s on the check ride.”
For the unfamiliar, the chandelle is a 180-degree climbing turn. It was allegedly developed during World War I as a means to get altitude quickly for combat situations. Captain Timebuilder knew this, and thus he argued we don’t need to know how to do it anymore.
I disagree. The chandelle teaches pilot coordination and how to avoid a stall-spin accident that can happen with high power setting and nose-high attitude—such as during the upwind to crosswind turn in the pattern. One of the common errors in performing a chandelle is entering a stall—bad news when one is just a few hundred feet agl with no room for recovery.
I learned how to do the chandelle as a student pilot—no, I did not fly in WWI, but I did learn to fly in the Pacific Northwest with its foothills and mountains. Often a climbing 180-degree turn was the best way to gain altitude in order to perform practice maneuvers and negotiate the confined space. I shared this with Captain Timebuilder, who looked dubious. I sincerely hope he gets an education before he collides with something.
Done It, or Done It to Standards
There is a big difference between doing something and doing it well. The more the skill is practiced, the better we perform it, and the better we retain the knowledge associated with it. Friction can occur when the flight instructor and learner have a difference of opinion as to whether the maneuver has been accomplished to the appropriate standard. It can come down to semantics, where the learner argues they have already “done this.’ But was it performed to acceptable standards? Out comes the ACS and syllabus.
One of my CFI graduates, who is also a professional music teacher, compares this discussion with musicians learning a piece of music. The first time the learner plays it, the tempo can be off, the phrasing off, wrong notes will be played, etc. But they did play it. Perhaps not very well, but they did play it. With a little practice, it gets better. Flying is the same way.
CFIs will and should allow learners to humble themselves to some extent, as long as there isn’t physical damage or injury or broken FARs. You often learn more by your mistakes. The first time I did this was with a learner who insisted that she didn’t need to use the checklist during the preflight inspection as her previous instructor at (insert name of an aviation college here) didn’t make her do that. “Make her?” I thought as I went back inside the FBO and watched from the window. On that particular day, not only did she leave the cowl plugs in, she also left the control lock in. She was perplexed as to why the control surfaces wouldn’t move.
