Picture this: it’s one of those days when you just *want* to fly. No mission, no passengers, no real purpose—just the simple joy of getting airborne.

But the weather has other plans. The aviation reports are full of warnings about strong, gusty surface winds and possible low‑level windshear. The windsock isn’t exactly subtle either—it’s snapping around like it’s trying to send Morse code. So you make the smart call: today’s not a flying day. Instead, you wander down the row of T‑hangars to see if anyone else is out braving the breeze.

Then you spot it.

An airplane—looks like a Mooney—turning final for Runway 33. The windsock is doing its best impression of a metronome, swinging from straight out to half deflection, and the wind direction is bouncing between 020° and 050°. The pilot is clearly fighting it. The bank angles are all over the place, pitch is inconsistent, and the power setting is anything but constant. You’re waiting for the go‑around… but it never comes.

The approach keeps getting worse, and you find yourself pulling out your phone—just in case. You hold your breath as the airplane touches down firmly and swerves a bit to either side of the centerline. Somehow, the pilot slows down and taxis off toward the ramp. You exhale. Crisis averted. And like many of us would, you think, “Wow, that pilot is really good! That approach was really scary, but the pilot pulled it off.”

But… did they?

This is where outcome bias sneaks in. One of our cognitive biases is called outcome bias. It’s our tendency to judge the quality of a decision based solely on how things turned out. Good landing? Must’ve been good decisions. Bad landing? Must’ve been bad decisions.

But that’s not how reality works.

If that Mooney had ended up in the grass with a collapsed gear, a prop strike, and a bent firewall, we’d all be shaking our heads, saying, “What was that pilot thinking trying to land in those conditions?” The process didn’t change—only the outcome did.

And this isn’t just an aviation thing. Surgeons, business leaders, military commanders—history is full of people who were hailed as geniuses when things went well and condemned as fools when they didn’t. Luck often gets far more credit (or blame) than we admit.

Outcome bias also sets the stage for something even more dangerous: normalization of deviance. Every time we cut a corner, skip a step, or bend a rule—and nothing bad happens—we become just a little more comfortable doing it again. Eventually, the shortcut becomes the “new normal.” Aviation has plenty of examples of where that path leads, both in the cockpit and in maintenance hangars.

Our next post will look at the positive side of outcome bias and how it helps us develop heuristics and train our brains for urgent decision making.

Pilots typically think of fear as the feeling produced by an engine failure right after takeoff, ice rapidly forming on the airframe, or the windshield suddenly covered in engine oil. When events such as these occur, the brain springs into action. Our brain wiring stems from our early ancestors’ need to deal with an attack by a wild animal. The amygdala trips the alarm and the sympathetic nervous system springs into action causing an almost immediate release of adrenalin and cortisol. Heart rate and blood pressure spike, breathing becomes rapid and shallow, the eye pupils dilate, skin becomes pale as blood is diverted to the muscles and organs, muscles tense, and digestion and salivation stop immediately. This response is generally beneficial in an emergency, making the well-trained pilot better able to respond.

The other flavor of fear, the one that can kill us, arises from our human need for social acceptance. When the brain senses a social threat, higher order cortical regions get involved. The Anterior Cingulate Cortex (ACC) is the brain’s “conflict monitor.” The Medial Prefrontal Cortex (mPFC) is crucial for "mentalizing or thinking about what others are thinking. It evaluates social norms and predicts the long-term consequences of a social mistake.

The social threat may be the anticipation of asking for help such as requesting a vector from ATC or declaring an emergency when the situation is deteriorating. We pilots tend to be a proud group. We value our self-image. We are trained and socialized to see ourselves as capable, resilient problem‑solvers, so declaring an emergency can feel like a public confession of incompetence or poor airmanship. Continuation bias provides a powerful drive to complete the flight as planned, which competes directly with the decision to admit an emergency and divert, declare, or land immediately. Declaring an emergency can feel like giving up on the mission rather than practicing good risk management, even when it is clearly the safer choice. We may fear that declaring an emergency will automatically trigger investigations or enforcement action, even though punitive outcomes are rare.

We must do a bit of brain updating to turn the tables on this fear of asking for help. That updating is done through education and training. Access to some level of flight simulation is extremely helpful, but discussion with a flight instructor or experienced pilot can also be valuable.

Crew Resource Management (CRM) is a key element. the details of CRM can be rather involved, but simply said, “USE ALL AVAILABLE RESOURCES!” There is an ample supply of information about Crew Resource Management online, just be sure to use reliable sources.

Scenario Based Training (SBT) can be effective in helping with brain updating. SBT, when properly designed, places pilots in situations in which the correct course of action is ambiguous such as deteriorating weather, an unexpected engine indication, or an ill passenger. The training combats a common psychological defense mechanism, denial. It also helps update the brain to admit when a situation is best handled with outside assistance, thus overcoming pilot’s ego of being able to handle any situation.

The fear response triggered by a real and sudden emergency can give us the performance boost we need to respond correctly and efficiently. Conversely, the fear of asking for a vector or declaring an emergency can delay our effective response and result in a bad ending. Study and practice in CRM, SBT, and a general understanding of how we “squawk human” can help us to be safer pilots.

Realted Links:

Skybrary - Crew Resource Management

Introduction to Scenario-Based Training (FAA)

Flying Magazine Scenarios for Training