3 ms·
Turbulence used to bother me. Hearing some factoid like turbulence has never (or nearly never) caused a crash (I'm paraphrasing) is what got me over that. Even
by gdulli 9y ago
Turbulence used to bother me. Hearing some factoid like turbulence has never (or nearly never) caused a crash (I'm paraphrasing) is what got me over that. Even if a hundred flights had been taken down by turbulence over the decades of modern aviation, those are still great odds. Better than driving, I'm sure.
And the fact that an engine can explode like this and the plane still lands safely makes me feel even less like the plane is a fragile or precarious thing.
- kqr 9y agoYeah. Imagine normal cruising flight level as a bank account with $35000 in it. Something unexpected happens (severe turbulence) and you have to spend $30 (you drop 30 feet). It barely makes a dent. You wouldn't feel bad about the money. You have a huge buffer against those events. As long as you are at several thousand feet, altitude will do a lot of work in your favour. There is plenty of time for a trained pilot to do one of many different recovery maneuvers in the unlikely event shit hits the fan. That high up in the sky, the pilot almost has to intentionally want to crash you to succeed. What personally helps me in the cruise part of the flight is a particular kind of mindfulness. I observe the turbulence, and recognise it for what it is without judging it as good or bad. But since my mind is so strictly sey on judgment, as a substitute for judging each individual event of turbulence, I try to judge the pilots response to it. Do they climb to find a more stable altitude? Do they slow down? Turn to a different heading? And does it work? Is the amount of turbulence, on a larger scale, decreasing? Does it at first increase, and then decrease? That sort of thing keeps me occupied in a way more disconnected from the evolutionary panic of shit-fuck-I-feel-like-I'm-in-a-free-fall.