On the eve of this year’s Super Bowl, I found myself operating a full flight into John Wayne Airport in Orange County, California. It’s an airport I’ve flown into numerous times before, so I had a good idea of what to expect. There was nothing out of the ordinary going on as we flew the arrival; the airplane was working perfectly, the weather was good, and traffic was light. As we made the transition from the arrival to final approach, I looked at the approaching runway, and a little voice inside my head said “you’re too high.” A quick scan of my instruments, however, indicated that the airplane was right where it was supposed to be. Which message was correct? And why was the voice of 25-plus years of flying experience telling me one thing, while my instruments were telling me something else? Most importantly, which message was I to act on – the one that said we were in the correct position, or the one that said we weren’t?

What I experienced that day was a visual illusion that is fairly common for pilots. The runway at Orange County is quite a bit shorter than what one typically lands on with an airliner, which can induce a visual illusion on approach. This is because a pilot’s mind develops a so-called “sight picture” over time of what a final approach *should* visually look like. The shorter-than-normal runway, however, can distort that sight picture in a way that makes it appear to the pilot as if the aircraft is too high. Things like terrain, water, urban development, fog, reduced visibility, sloping cloud decks, cultural lights, and the like can cause similar illusions. Because of situations like this, recognizing and adjusting for various visual illusions is one of the first (and most important) tasks a new pilot learns when he or she begins training.

Different types of visual and spatial orientation illusions are a persistent and sometimes insidious hazard for aviators. In most cases, these illusions happen because our human visual and somatic systems, designed to keep us upright and oriented on the ground, are subject to being confused by the forces of flight and the loss of visual references in bad weather. Because of this, pilots spend a lot of training time learning to correctly diagnose and correct for these sometimes uncomfortable occurrences. In the case of my approach into Orange County, I knew from experience that I would likely experience the illusion of being too high, and, sure enough, there it was. So, I reverted to my training, and turned to what I knew was the more reliable source of information – the aircraft’s flight instruments. As a result, I was quickly re-oriented and completed the landing without incident.

Thinking about it later on, it seemed to me that the process of recovering from spatial disorientation illustrates a helpful mental process that I might be able to apply outside of the flying sphere. The Orange County incident was expected and pretty easy to deal with, but I’ve also experienced much more intense episodes of disorientation over the years that were more difficult to recover from. The key to a successful re-orientation, though, was the same in every case – knowing where to go for reliable information when my senses were disoriented. A trained pilot knows, absent a problem with the aircraft, that the instruments are often a more reliable and trustworthy indication of what the aircraft is doing than his or her own senses. And as difficult as it can be to fight against what their own body is telling them, they do it because it may well be a life-saving decision to do so.

When I consider how I might use this idea of re-orientation in other spheres of life, I see two essential ingredients. The first is having awareness of what “disorienting” situations might be. This could be, for example, a big financial decision , or consideration of a career change, or maybe some sort of moral dilemma – there are many possibilities. The second step (re-orientation), as I see it, requires preparation: for pilots, we prepare for disorienting situations through study and by practicing them in a controlled environment, so we know what to do when it happens for real. A similar principle might apply in other spheres; I can help myself prepare for a big financial decision by developing a financial plan that I trust ahead of time, and by perhaps consulting a financial advisor who can give me some wisdom when I need it. My plan and my advisor are where I can go for reliable information in that scenario. One could say something similar for a moral or ethical dilemma: as a Catholic, the practice of faith helps me prepare for moral or ethical challenges, and the resources of the Church are where I can go for reliable information in that scenario. You get the idea.

As a pilot, I don’t like getting disoriented…it’s unpleasant. But, I fly for a living, and I fly in bad weather a lot, so there’s no way to completely avoid it. The best I can do is to be prepared and to have a plan, so I can face those situations with the tools and confidence I need to quickly get re-oriented. Going forward, I’m going to take a look at other areas of my own life to see where I might be able to put this idea into practice, so I can be better prepared for whatever life might throw at me, because disorienting moments are inevitable, but with sound preparation, the result can be a smooth landing.

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