New episode of our Old Pilot Tips series is available
This Episode 42 of our “Old Pilot Tips” series reminds us of what we need to do, and not do, if a cabin door becomes unlatched during flight. This 50-second video titled simply “Open Door” is sponsored by Avemco. Check it out here.
Recommended Viewing: "Forced Landing Essentials"
A forced landing, usually off-airport, happens just about every day. This episode of our “Essential Vectors” series provides some useful information on steps to take to help reduce the chances of having to execute a forced landing, and some ways to help reduce the likelihood of serious injury or death in the forced landing. All this and more in 11 minutes! Click here to see "Forced Landing Essential" on YouTube.
We’ve all been there—we checked the weather a few hours ago and it was clear, so as we get closer to our destination, even though the horizon looks a little hazy and the ceiling is clearly dropping, part of us still thinks, “It’ll be fine; the brief said VFR.” That’s anchoring bias creeping in. It’s our brain holding onto that first piece of information and being surprisingly reluctant to let go, even when what we’re seeing out the windshield tells a different story. In flying, it’s not just a harmless mental habit—it can quietly nudge us toward risky decisions like pressing on when conditions are telling us to rethink the plan.
What’s happening under the hood is actually pretty interesting. We’re basically juggling two key parts of the brain. The prefrontal cortex acts like our internal pilot-in-command—it handles planning, calculations, and updating the plan when things change. But it takes effort and energy to do that well. When we’re tired, overloaded, or just dealing with a busy cockpit, it becomes harder for us to move away from that original anchor, so we settle for something that feels “close enough” instead of fully rethinking the situation. At the same time, we’ve got the anterior cingulate cortex, which works like a built-in warning light. It’s supposed to flag when something doesn’t line up—like when the weather we’re seeing doesn’t match the report we started with. The catch is that if we’ve been brushing off little inconsistencies along the way, that warning system can quiet down, and before we know it, the original assumption starts to feel like the truth.
On top of that, our brains are wired to give extra weight to whatever we hear first. When we start a flight with a “good weather” mindset, our thoughts naturally drift toward past experiences that match that idea—smooth flights, clear skies—and it becomes easier to overlook signs that things might actually be changing for the worse. And even when we do start adjusting our thinking, we often don’t go far enough. We make a partial correction, just enough for things to feel reasonable, but not enough to fully match reality.
A big part of this comes down to how we think in the moment. We rely on fast, intuitive thinking—kind of like autopilot—that loves quick answers and is perfectly happy to accept an anchor without much questioning. Then there’s the slower, more analytical side of our thinking, the part that double-checks numbers and works through checklists. The challenge is that the fast system tends to act first, so by the time we start analyzing things more carefully, we’re already working from that initial, biased starting point.
The good news is we can manage this, even if we can’t get rid of it completely. One simple shift is to deliberately look for reasons our first assumption might be wrong—instead of reassuring ourselves that everything is still fine, we can actively look for signs that conditions are getting worse. It also helps to think ahead and ask, “What would make us divert right now?” That kind of thinking gives us a backup plan before we even need it. And of course, leaning on checklists is huge—they pull us out of that quick, intuitive mode and force us back into a more structured, analytical mindset. At the end of the day, our brains are built for efficiency more than accuracy, so the more aware we are of how easily we can get stuck on that first idea, the better we can stay flexible and make safer decisions in the cockpit.
Want to learn more about cognitive science as it relates to the general aviation pilot? Check out our "Squawking Human" feature!
Don't Drag that Anchor!
In the cockpit, information doesn’t just come in—it comes in fast, and as capable as we are, our brains still like to take shortcuts. One of those shortcuts is anchoring bias, where we latch onto the first piece of information we get and let it carry more weight than it should, even after new information starts to tell a different story. For those of us flying in General Aviation, especially when we’re the only decision-maker on board, this can quietly influence our judgment in ways that lead us into trouble if we’re not paying attention.
We see this a lot with weather. We check the forecast early in the day, see clear skies, and that expectation sticks with us. It becomes the baseline for how we think the flight is going to go. Then, as we get airborne and time passes, conditions start to change—ceilings come down, visibility isn’t what it was supposed to be, maybe the horizon starts looking a little less friendly. Instead of fully accepting what we’re seeing, it’s easy to mentally soften it or explain it away because it doesn’t match that original picture we had in mind. We end up responding to what we thought the weather would be instead of what it actually is, and that’s where risk starts creeping in.
We can fall into the same trap on approach. We hear ATIS calling winds favoring a certain runway, and in our heads, the plan gets set—it’s going to be a nice, straightforward landing. But by the time we’re on final, things may have changed. The winds might be shifting, gusting, or not lining up the way we expected. Even then, it’s easy to feel committed to that original plan and press on with an approach that isn’t as stable as it should be. Instead of stepping back and adjusting to what’s happening right now, we stick with what we expected, and that’s when small deviations can start stacking up into bigger problems.
It shows up during system troubleshooting too. When something feels off—maybe the engine runs rough or an instrument doesn’t look right—the first explanation that pops into our heads can quickly turn into the answer we stick to. If we think, “It’s probably just a fouled spark plug,” we can end up chasing that idea while missing other signs that something more serious might be going on. As more clues appear, instead of stepping back and reevaluating, we can stay locked into that first assumption, and that can delay important decisions like diverting or setting up for an emergency landing.
The hard part is that anchoring bias doesn’t feel obvious when it’s happening. It just feels like we’re sticking to a plan or making a reasonable call. That’s why we have to be a little intentional about pushing back on our own thinking. A simple habit that helps is asking, “What if we’re wrong?” or “What else could this be?” Setting firm personal minimums also takes some of the pressure off in the moment—when we hit them, we act, no debate. And it helps to flip our mindset occasionally and look for reasons not to continue, instead of just looking for reasons to justify pressing on.
At the end of the day, anchoring bias is something all of us deal with—it’s just part of how our brains work. The key is staying flexible and being willing to update our thinking as new information comes in. The safest pilots aren’t the ones who stick to the original plan no matter what; they’re the ones who are quick to question it, adapt, and fly what’s actually happening—not what we expected when we first took off.
Accidents discussed in this section are presented in the hope that pilots can learn from the misfortune of others and perhaps avoid an accident. It is easy to read an accident report and dismiss the cause as carelessness or as a dumb mistake. But let's remember that the accident pilot did not get up in the morning and say, "Gee, I think I'll go have an accident today." Nearly all pilots believe that they are safe. Honest introspection frequently reveals that on some occasion, we might have traveled down that same accident path.
This fatal crash took the life of the 23-year-old, 617-hour, commercial-CFI pilot. It happened in Michigan in May of 2021 and involved a Cessna 182H,
The analysis section of the NTSB report begins: "The pilot was conducting a low-altitude pipeline patrol flight in day visual meteorological conditions when the airplane collided with a radio tower guy wire. According to radar data, during the final 4.5 minutes of the flight, the airplane’s altitude was between 475 and 800 ft above ground level (agl). The airplane’s ground track was offset to the right of the pipeline until about the final minute of the flight, at which point the airplane crossed over the pipeline and continued about 1,000 to 1,250 ft to the left of the pipeline. The operator reported that the airplane should be flown to the right of the pipeline to ensure that the pilot, who is seated in the left cockpit seat, can maintain an unobstructed view of the pipeline during the patrol flight."
NTSB Graphic
The NTSB report continues, "The airplane continued northwest toward the radio tower. About 15 seconds before the accident, the airplane was about 0.65 miles southeast of the tower in a shallow right turn when it entered a climb from 475 ft agl. At the final radar return, about 600 ft east-southeast of the tower, the airplane’s altitude, calibrated airspeed, and climb rate were about 1,370 ft msl, 104 knots, and 1,575 ft per minute, respectively. The airplane’s final altitude was 370 ft below the top of the radio tower and its ground track was toward the guy wires located on the northeast side of the radio tower. Based on the airplane’s ground track and rapidly increasing climb rate, the pilot was likely trying to avoid the tower guy wires during the final moments of the flight."
The NTSB report continues further, "The airplane’s left wing separated from the fuselage at the wing root when it collided with a support guy wire attached to the northeast side of the radio tower. The airplane then impacted a dirt field about 0.3 mile northwest of the radio tower where a postimpact fire destroyed most of the airplane. Postaccident examination of the airplane wreckage did not reveal any evidence of a mechanical malfunction or failure that would have prevented normal operation of the airplane before it collided with the tower guy wire."
NTSB Photo
And the NTSB report continues: "Two individuals reported that the pilot posted a Snapchat video shortly before the accident. The Snapchat video reportedly depicted the terrain ahead of the airplane while it was 5 to 10 miles southeast of the accident site. Although the video was automatically deleted from the Snapchat platform 24 hours after the accident, it reportedly did not include the final moments of the flight. One of the individuals provided a screenshot of the Snapchat application’s map that showed the approximate location of where the pilot posted the video. When compared to the airplane’s recorded radar ground track, the location of the pilot’s Snapchat post was about 1.5 miles southeast of the radio tower, and likely was posted about 35 seconds before the accident. The airplane’s ground track was already left of the pipeline when the pilot posted the Snapchat video. Based on the known information, it is likely the pilot was distracted while he used his mobile device in the minutes before the accident and did not maintain an adequate visual lookout to ensure a safe flight path to avoid the radio tower and its guy wires."
The NTSB probable cause states, "The pilot’s failure to maintain adequate visual lookout to ensure clearance from the radio tower and its guy wires. Contributing to the accident was the pilot’s unnecessary use of his mobile device during the flight, which diminished his attention/monitoring of the airplane’s flight path."
NTSB Graphic
Though our topic this month is anchoring bias, this crash more likely falls under the category of cognitive tunneling. The pilot perhaps was so focused on making and posting the video that his situational awareness was lost.
The lesson here is obvious. Our job is to fly the airplane - period.
Click here to download the accident report from the NTSB website.
Accidents discussed in this section are presented in the hope that pilots can learn from the misfortune of others and perhaps avoid an accident. It is easy to read an accident report and dismiss the cause as carelessness or as a dumb mistake. But let's remember that the accident pilot did not get up in the morning and say, "Gee, I think I'll go have an accident today." Nearly all pilots believe that they are safe. Honest introspection frequently reveals that on some occasion, we might have traveled down that same accident path.
This mishap involved a ground collision between two flight school airplanes, a Cessna 152 and a Cessna 172. Fortunately, there were no injuries, but the Cessna 152 sustained minor damage while the Cessna 172 was substantially damaged. Each airplane was crewed by a flight instructor. The pilot under instruction in the Cessna 152 was a student pilot while the pilot under instruction in the Cessna 172 was a private pilot. Each flight instructor had more than 1,000 hours of flight time.
NTSB Photo
The NTSB report states, "The student pilot in a Cessna 152 reported that, after completing the engine start procedure checklist, he set the parking brake and both he and the instructor placed their feet on the brake pedals. As both pilots looked down to plug in their headsets the airplane rolled forward and struck the right wing of a Cessna 172 that was taxiing in front of them. As a result of the collision, the Cessna 172’s right wing was substantially damaged. The flight crews of both airplanes reported that there were no preaccident mechanical failures or malfunctions with their airplanes that would have precluded normal operation."
The NTSB probable cause states: "The flight instructor’s inattention during ground operations, which resulted in unintentional movement of the airplane and ground collision with another airplane."
NTSB supplied video of the collision
It would appear that both the instructor and the student in the Cessna 152 failed to maintain situational awareness. SA may have been lost due to anchoring bias regarding the task of completing the checklist. Perhaps cognitive tunneling came into play as they both were focused on plugging in their headsets.
Lessons to be learned would include not keeping eyes inside the airplane for very long, whether in flight or on the ground.
Click here to download the accident report from the NTSB website.
Accidents discussed in this section are presented in the hope that pilots can learn from the misfortune of others and perhaps avoid an accident. It is easy to read an accident report and dismiss the cause as carelessness or as a dumb mistake. But let's remember that the accident pilot did not get up in the morning and say, "Gee, I think I'll go have an accident today." Nearly all pilots believe that they are safe. Honest introspection frequently reveals that on some occasion, we might have traveled down that same accident path.
This crash involved a Globe GC-1B in South Carolina in December of 2021. The 75-year-old, 3033-hour, commercial pilot was seriously injured.
The NTSB accident report includes the following: "The pilot reported that he was taking off from a 2,300-ft-long grass strip. He initiated the takeoff from a 1,000-ft-long parking area that was about 35° off the runway heading, thinking it was the runway. After realizing his error, there was insufficient room to stop, the airplane became airborne, and the left wing impacted the windsock pole, which resulted in structural damage to the wings, fuselage, and empennage, and the pilot sustained a serious injury."
The NTSB probable cause states: "The pilot’s inadequate preflight planning, resulting in a takeoff attempt from a grass parking area instead of the runway and subsequent impact with a pole."
This is possibly an example of anchoring bias at work. The pilot made a decision that he was on the runway and was anchored on that decision. A check of the compass would have revealed that he was lined up with a heading 35 degrees different than the runway heading.
Lesson learned - even when we are sure of something, use other available information to confirm.
Click here to download the accident report from the NTSB website.
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