Years ago, during a class on human behavior, a psychology professor said that when teachers are speaking, only 11% of the class is actually paying attention to what is being said. On the other hand, 23% of the people are thinking about a personal problem, while 66% are having a sexual fantasy. According to the professor, no matter what he said that day, at least two-thirds of the class was sure to have a good time.

Isn’t this the problem that most folks have? No, not sexual fantasies. I mean paying attention to the thing that most deserves your attention. In the classroom, it’s the dialectic that deserves your attention. In a car, it’s the road that deserves your attention. Flying an airplane also demands that we pay attention, but not necessarily in the way we normally think. After years of pondering this, it’s now clear to me that those with an extraordinary ability to keep themselves safe in the air do so because they—there’s no other way to say this so I’ll just say it—mimic the behaviors of what the self-help literature calls the enlightened individual.

Whoa! Hold on Kwai Chang Caine. I know you’re thinking, “Don’t shimmy that Sholin up my sleeve. This is aviation pal, and its subjects are ruled by laws, equations and test tubes. So back off, Monkman.”

Not to worry. I share your sentiments, having gone through my “New Age” stage in my early 20’s. My kick in the karma came at a seminar where an unemployed engineer claimed to channel a wise, 30,000 year old spirit. For $20 a pop, you could ask the spirit anything. So I asked him to sing a song from the Late Pleistocene’s Top 10 radiocarbon list. I realized that I had just lost 20 bucks when I heard something similar to Mowtown’s Four Tops. Perhaps I really heard the Four Triceratops. Who knows?

No, none of that jumbo for you, but only the best mumbo from me.

The fact is that the term enlightenment has both historical and respectable roots and this makes it an idea worth exploring. My thought is that a person’s enlightenment in any realm of life (be it aviation, car racing, or muffin making) has nothing to do with his or her ability to speak sotto voce from the lotus position. The answer is (thank goodness) more practical than that. The enlightened person is someone whose situation-specific behavior is guided by a single dominant and permanent thought that both informs and influences his behavior in a meaningful way.

Either because of practical experience or proper training, a person acquires the habit of sustaining one important thought in the background of his consciousness without having to work at keeping it there. His or her behavior is now permanently moderated by this idea. Let’s call it “background awareness.”

For instance, research on consistently happy people—I would certainly call these individuals enlightened in the area of life—indicates that their permanent and dominant thought—their background awareness—is that of gratitude. These individuals are seldom unhappy, because they sustain an awareness of the good things (relatively speaking) that they have in their lives.

Of course, it goes without saying that enlightenment in any area means nothing if it doesn’t further the values of the culture in which the enlightened individual resides. In other words, you may be an enlightened Satanist, but you and your pitchfork shouldn’t plan on receiving an invite to Friday night Catholic bingo.

So, just what does all this have to do with you, the pilot of an airplane?

In my opinion, pilots with an extraordinary ability to fly safely—enlightened pilots—have also learned, either through directed training or the good fortune of having had an appropriate role model, to sustain one extremely important thought as part of their default background thinking.

What is that thought? It’s one that produces self-referential thinking. Said another way, it’s the type of thought that compels a pilot to objectively evaluate himself, his airplane and the environment in which he’s flying. It’s as if, by thinking the proper thought, the pilot has an “OOFE”—an out of fuselage experience—and is now able to examine all three critical conditions as an independent flight observer.

For many pilots, mentally stepping outside their fuselage begins with the thought, “What’s happening to me?” If a single thought can be the catalyst that initiates an awareness of one’s environment, an evaluation of the airplane’s performance and an honest assessment of a pilot’s present mental acuity, this has to be it. I can think of no other idea that so completely informs a pilot about his or her present level of in-flight safety.

When this thought becomes a dominant and permanent part your background consciousness, then you’re certainly closer to cockpit enlightenment than most other pilots.

The important question is, “How do you make this thought a permanent part of your background thinking?” While there are many paths to the same endpoint, the simple answer is that you force yourself to think “What’s happening to me?” until it becomes part of your reflexive behavior. In this instance, practice makes permanent.

Unfortunately, other than constant practice, there is no easy way to cockpit enlightenment. There’s no Zen-koan question to accelerate the process. Besides, if I asked you, “What is the sound of one cylinder firing?” I know you’d say, “That sounds like a rental.”

Copyright 2010 by Rod Machado

Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, is more important to a person’s success at learning to fly than having a good flight instructor. Yes, there are many good flight instructors in the aviation business, just as there are many good doctors and lawyers in their respective businesses. Unfortunately, there are also individuals who don’t represent their professions well. Sorry, but that’s life in the big city (or big sky).

Unlike golf clubs and fancy cars, flight instruction is likely to be something a prospective pilot has never shopped for in his or her entire life. That’s why most folks have nary a clue about what questions to ask (or even if they should ask questions) in order to winnow the instructor wheat from the chaff. Without the right information, lots of students wind up with chafe from the chaff, and people who should have been pilots become pedestrians.

I’ve assembled a list of questions that will help any prospective student (and that includes you if you’re going back for advanced training). The objective is to try to spot someone who will be a good instructor. No single question is going to reveal all the strengths and weaknesses of an individual, but ask a variety of well-targeted questions and you’ll learn a lot about someone.

Keep in mind that a good CFI is worth his or her weight in airplane parts. Once you find one, treat him or her well. Pay him what he’s worth, and sing his praises to everyone. Good CFIs seldom get the credit they deserve.

1. Why did you become a flight instructor?
The reason you want to know this is because the person might talk only about flying professionally. Most likely, this is someone who is flying to build time. There’s nothing wrong with this, of course, but if he doesn’t talk about, mention, or even hint that he loves to fly and share flying with others, then I might be a bit concerned about him not having my best interests at heart.

2. What are the chances of your being hired by an airline or another aviation company in the next six months?
If she says that she’s got a good chance of being hired by a commuter airline in the next six months, you know that there’s a very good chance she won’t be around long enough to see you through private training. If she says that hiring in the next half-year is unlikely, then the chances are good that she’ll be around long enough to take you to the private pilot level.

On the other hand, I can’t say enough about the influence a good flight instructor has on a student’s initial development as a pilot. If this person is a gem with whom you’re simpatico, then it’s probably in your best interest to fly with this instructor, even for a few hours, despite him heading off for an airline job in the next few months. At least you’ll have a taste of good flight training, which will make you a more educated consumer when shopping for instructors at a later time.

3. How many private pilots have you trained, and how many have passed their checkride on the first attempt?
If the person hasn’t trained any private pilot students, then it’s likely that he’s either a new CFI or he doesn’t prefer doing primary training. A new CFI is often very enthusiastic, and for this reason alone he could do a great job for you. Sure, he is new, but the possibility exists that he can at least teach you to fly as well as he can, right? That’s a good thing. On the other hand, there’s nothing wrong with looking for someone with experience, if that pleases you. I’d be worried if this person trains private pilots and has had more than three out of 10 applicants fail on their first attempt. In this instance it might be wise to look for someone with an A or B+ or even a B average instead of a below-C average.

4. How many hours will it take for me to solo if I fly three times a week and learn in the simplest airplane available?
The answer to this question, even in a tower-controlled environment, varies but it should be around 14 to 18 hours. If you are told that it typically takes 25 hours or more to solo, then this should raise an eyebrow. It shouldn’t take 25 hours or more to solo when flying frequently in a basic training airplane (assuming that you don’t have any learning difficulties or personal struggles to cope with).

5. What is the average length of time and how many hours does it take your typical student who trains consistently to obtain a private pilot certificate?
The national average for the private certificate is around 70 hours, but there are instructors who can put people through in under 50 hours within a five-to-six-month period. Sure, weather, availability, training schedules, funds, and so on all affect this time, but if 70.1 hours is the average, then there are many students who complete their training in fewer hours. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be in this group. If the CFI says that his students who train consistently take 70-plus hours, then I’d check around for someone with more favorable numbers. If this person says that it takes about a year to obtain a private pilot certificate, then this isn’t the person for you. Most people who fly consistently plan to spend no more than six months to complete private pilot training.

6. If we assume that I’m your typical student, and if we assume that I might have the problems of an average student, what areas of difficulty might I expect to encounter during flight training?
The response to this question will tell you a lot about this person’s teaching personality. If he says that “most” students are lazy and don’t work hard enough, then he is likely not a good manager or motivator. Most people who pay money for flight training aren’t lazy and do indeed want to work hard. If the CFI tells you that “most” folks are afraid of stalls and emergency procedures, then this person may have difficulty assuaging the anxieties of his students. The fact is that most people aren’t frightened of stalls and emergency procedures if their CFI is sensitive enough to introduce and explain them properly.

If the CFI says that it takes a long time to learn how to land, then you want to be suspicious here, too. It doesn’t take a long time to learn how to land. In fact, given accommodating traffic and weather, a capable student can learn how to land in about four to six hours of pattern work. So use a bit of common sense here. If the CFI is emphatic about specific areas where his students struggle and have difficulties, then compare this with what other CFIs have told you. It’s quite possible that this person has problems teaching in these areas. If the CFI says that most students have general challenges but these are nothing that can’t be overcome, then that is the type of attitude you’re looking for.

7. Tell me about your best and your worst students and why they became the best and worst.
This will tell you a lot about the CFI himself. It’s a variation on question six, but it also can provide you with insights into what this CFI likes or dislikes in his students. If the instructor says that he likes students who understand if he loses patience or is late, then it’s possible that he is a hothead and is late a lot. If this CFI says that he likes students who are serious about learning to fly, then he is probably serious about teaching, too. So listen carefully to his responses, and let your head and gut tell you whether this person is right for you.

8. How much ground instruction do you do on every lesson?
If the CFI says that he does very little ground instruction and suggests that the student’s homework should cover this, keep looking. Good CFIs do both a preflight briefing and a postflight debriefing. That’s ground instruction. It’s not unreasonable to have at least one hour’s worth of ground instruction (which you’ll rightly pay for, of course) for every two-to-2.5-hour lesson block.

9. May I speak with three of your previous private pilot students?
If he says no or makes it seem that such a thing wouldn’t be possible unless a Ouija board is involved, consider flying with someone else. If he says yes, then interview these students or former students. Ask them about the quality of training they received. This provides an excellent window into the training style and capabilities of this individual. If the previous students suggest that this CFI has a problem with patience and tends to yell, then find another CFI.

Keep in mind that you’re looking for specific trends in the answers given above. Stop, look, and listen carefully. You’ll be surprised at what people reveal about themselves in what they say and what they omit from normal conversation. Finally, ask yourself if you’d like to spend 40-plus hours in the cockpit and under the supervision of this person while learning how to fly. Is this person the type of individual who seems like he will have confidence in you? If not, then find someone else. Remember, you’re the consumer, so act like one. If you feel that this person is right for you, then agree to fly with him for no more than three lessons up front, after which time you’ll commit to the rest of the training if the relationship is working out. At least this gives you a chance to escape with few hard feelings if you feel he isn’t right for you.

One of the best ways to put this information to work immediately is by participating in AOPA Project Pilot, which pairs experienced pilots willing to act as Mentors with students actively engaged in flight training. This program is so powerful that AOPA statistics show that a student with a Project Pilot Mentor is three times more likely to successfully complete his or her flight training. That’s why I’m such a big fan of AOPA’s mentoring process and hope you’ll find a way to participate.

So copy the question list and sign up for AOPA Project Pilot. Help a prospective student find a good CFI and you’ll be helping someone else, general aviation, and yourself.

Suppose I told you I could get your child to enthusiastically study geography, math, physics, chemistry, and psychology. After you had my head examined, would you be interested? Oh, and as a bonus I can get him or her to hang out with highly motivated, well educated older people who are good role models because they don’t do drugs, graffiti, or tattoos, and they have a great work ethic.

You’re still with me, aren’t you? Then let’s talk about the value of allowing a responsible teenager to take flying lessons.

Perhaps you’re one of those parents (or perhaps you know one) who’s reluctant to let their teenager take up flying for one or all of the usual reasons (generalized anxiety, cost, competition for the family plane). While you may have compelling reasons for feeling as you do, I would like to offer a different perspective on why you should enthusiastically nurture and support your child’s desire to fly. More specifically, since you’re probably a pilot already and support the idea, I’d like to offer you a few responses that might help you convince reluctant non-pilot parents that flight training for their child would be the best educational investment they could make.

Social science research now says that a teenager’s peer group has as much (if not more) influence on the development of that individual’s values as the parents. For this reason alone, it’s reasonable to consider that flight training might confer a powerful developmental advantage on any young adult with an interest in airplanes. After all, the moment he begins flight training he immediately starts associating with an entirely new peer group that emphasizes the value of rules, rituals and responsibilities.

Most of the individuals your child encounters during flight training are highly motivated, educated and dedicated people, and most of them will be older and more mature than your child, too. Think about it. Suddenly, your teenager starts singing the praises of someone over 30 who values education, self discipline, self study and self reliance. Even in your wildest dreams as a parent, could you imagine that your teenager might seek out and spend time with such people, especially since these folks aren’t probation officers? Could you imagine having some influence over the new friends your offspring makes? Go ahead, pinch yourself, so you’ll know it’s true.

If this weren’t reason enough to support your teenager’s flight training desires, consider that it’s not even the most important reason for doing so. There are few things as sad as young people without a sense of purpose or passion in their lives. Sure, they may be good kids, but they’re also bored and boredom provides absolutely no developmental advantage whatsoever. Nature and teenagers abhor a vacuum (or a vacuum cleaner), so it’s going to be filled with something. This is the primary reason young people should be exposed to as many new and novel ideas as possible (specifically, ideas that don’t involve puncturing, piercing or indelibly coloring parts of the body). You hope that something clicks and triggers a burning desire—the Holy Grail for most parents—deep in their child’s psyche. If there’s any chance that flight training will trigger a passion for learning in your child, then you owe it to him or her to explore the idea. It may just change the way they look at the world. It may also disabuse them of the notion that being tossed into a Mosh pit at a Radiators From Space punk rock concert and body surfing a wave of human hands is Nirvana, itself.

A third reason to consider flight training for an interested teenager is that it’s an honest way of developing self respect. For the past quarter century, the self esteem movement in this country professed that simply making young people feel good about themselves was the key to generating productive and responsible behavior. You see this in physical games where nobody loses because a score is seldom kept (thus, nobody has their feelings hurt) and everybody wins because you get a trophy for just showing up. Lack of self esteem was even touted as the real reason behind the irresponsible and criminal behavior of young people. Social science, however, has shown this premise to be false. In fact, most of the really bad boys and girls in prison aren’t short of self esteem. Scientifically speaking, criminals score extremely high on self esteem scales. It turns out that the value of self esteem as it applies to positively changing someone’s behavior is primarily determined by how it’s earned, not the way it’s conferred.

Telling young people to have pride and self respect simply applies a veneer of feeling good, but doesn’t teach them behaviors that both generate and sustain self respect. In the end, the common sense view prevailed: people more deeply appreciate what they legitimately earn, not what they’re given (or told they should have). Learning to fly an airplane is a responsible, authentic means of generating pride and self respect. Give an interested teenager flying lessons and you’ll teach her that study, discipline and practice are personal qualities to be admired and acquired.

If you’re hesitating about your child taking flying lessons (or are the doting aunt, uncle, grandfather or grandmother), I hope you’ll consider what I’ve said, and give the gift of flight. When you learn something new, you become something new. So give your child a chance to become something new by introducing him or her to aviation.

(This story originally appeared in AOPA Pilot magazine.)

Here’s a question asked by a fellow pilot a while back that, I don’t believe, made it into my Since You Asked column in AOPA Flight Training magazine. Some questions and answers are a bit more fun than educational and aren’t quite ready for prime time.

A fellow pilot named Rick asked the following question: As a CFI I’m curious about the most difficult/strange/wild student you’ve ever had. Care to share?

My response follows.

Dear Rick:

I’ll gladly answer your question because I think it’s instructional and something of which all CFIs should be aware.

I experienced one of my most unusual students more than 30 years ago, as a young CFI. He was a middle aged private pilot who hadn’t flown in 20 years and needed a flight review. He was also a doctor who always showed up fatigued, with his eyeballs glazed over, and he mumbled a lot to himself. This didn’t bother me, because he acted just like I did after a full day of flight instructing. It was only later I found out that he was on drugs, which explains why he offered to medicate me during our first lesson (I thought he was kidding. He wasn’t). I respectfully declined the offer, then mentioned that if he flew properly I might not need medication.

On the first lesson, he nearly taxied into a parked gas truck. The worst part is that he had to go out of his way to get close to the truck. He claimed he didn’t see it. On the second day, he landed with brakes on. I had to stab at his thick barrel-like legs with my pointy little arms just to get his feet off the pedals. A few days later, a senior CFI at the airport pulled me aside and told me the truth about this fellow. He apparently had worn out four flight instructors in his recurrency attempt, totaling over 35 hours of dual in the process. When each CFI caught on to his game, they’d furlough him. The doc would simply get a new logbook and try for a fresh start. Yes, this type of thing happens. I, too, was really upset and promptly furloughed the doc. He suggested I might not be so upset if I were medicated. No thanks, doc.

The moral here is to trust your gut. If it quacks like a doc, it probably is one. I knew something was wrong with this fellow but chose to ignore my instincts. I try never to make that mistake again.