What's an LSA? Part 1 of 3: The Observer Effect

I have an uncle that asked "What's an LSA?" in response to a lengthy facebook posting of mine.  Actually, that sort of thing is what this blog is for.

The easiest answer is that "LSA" means "Light-Sport Aircraft." But the real answer is a lot more complicated than that. That's why this is post #1 of 3, and that's also why it's been a week since I've posted here.  The simple answer is:

"An aircraft meeting a technical definition laid out five years ago by the FAA"

However, the more complicated answer is:

"An entirely new kind of flying, which has exploded as a new community of manufacturers and pilots, who understand that they will be operating under a different set of rules."

There's been a lot of hootin' and hollerin' about the Light-Sport Rule.  Most people have been shouting from the rooftops that it's a revolutionary renaissance and revitalization in General Aviation, Hooray!  Has it been?  Ennh... maybe not so much. Click here for a great article about the recent booms and busts of the Light-Sport industry.  But I'm not as concerned with the success of these new planes and pilots as I am with the way this part of the industry sees itself, and what it will mean when the usual rules don't apply.

A little history:

1. Pilots have had to be certificated to fly most things recognizable as "airplanes" since the end of WWI, but for a very long time, the FAA has left a certain class of aircraft pretty much alone- the so-called "ultralights."  Essentially, if you wanted to rig a leaf-blower to a hang glider and fly around without killing yourself, the Feds didn't want to have anything to do with it, and left you alone.
2. Industry and users' groups sprang up around these peculiar little machines, such as the Experimental Aircraft Association, the US Ultralight Association, and the US Powered Paragliding Association. In the absence of formal regulation by the FAA, they began regulating themselves.  This was, and remains, a very good idea- they're on a mission to promote awareness and safety of what they do.
3. In an attempt to close the loophole, the FAA created a new way of certifying pilots called a "Recreational" certificate that utterly failed, and was pretty much ignored.
4. So the FAA started over with the "Light-Sport" rule.  Instead of watering down a "Private" Pilot Certificate (which is what they did with the "Recreational" one), they went to the industry and community, found out what they were doing with both aircraft and pilots, and basically made it official.

A little more history:  In 1926, Werner Heisenburg (one of the architects of quantum mechanics) made the case that the act of observing subatomic particles creates a condition which necessarily affects their activity.  The Heisenburg "Uncertainty Principle," which is mathematical relationship buried deeply inside the nature of how we understand reality itself, is often given as an example of the "Observer Effect," in which the act of observation changes the activity or behavior being observed.

Subatomic particles aside, I can tell you that the "Observer Effect" is present in human psychology to an extreme degree.  Having sent hundreds of students on checkrides, I can tell you that people act weird when they know they're being watched and judged.  So do groups of people, and corporations, and entire industries.  So here's what's happened:

• A previously unregulated, undefined, (and pretty much unnoticed) segment of the aviation industry has been "observed" by the FAA.
• That "observation" distinguished this segment of aviation, and in so doing, fundamentally changed it.
• That change has erupted in a flurry of new activity utterly unlike what was happening before.

If you'd wanted to know what a "Light Sport" aircraft was before the LSA rule went into effect, it would probably have looked something like this.  What was previously known as an "ultralight" would have been a tiny machine, meant to carry only one or two people.  It would not have been built by an aircraft manufacturer which subjected it to the usual kinds of tests or design specifications usually required of "certified" aircraft with "standard" airworthiness certificates.  These scary-looking little contraptions, and the people who flew them, were not subjected to the rules the FAA usually required of other aircraft and pilots.  Ultralights were usually attractive only to a particular breed of enthusiast, and the rest of the aviation community, as well as the general public, usually wanted nothing to do with them.

I don't mean to disparage Ultralights or their pilots.  Personally, I think these things are really cool, and they look like lots of fun.  I also want to go on record as a huge fan of the "Experimental" (that is "amateur built") Aircraft or "Kitplane" industry.  I have flown several such aircraft, and I have been a member of and still support the EAA, and I visit their "Sun-N'-Fun Airventure" every April in Lakeland, Florida, as well as various other fly-ins and festivals.  But I can still understand how most people would be scared of these things.  The fact is that this has traditionally been only a tiny fraction of the aviation industry, and has remained that way for decades.  This is the "subatomic particle" before the "act of observation" by the FAA.


I won't go deeply into the definition of the LSA rule here- you can find it in lots of places, including here (just scroll down to where it says "Light-Sport Aircraft").  But basically, if it's an airplane, it only carries one or two people, goes no faster than 120 knots, and has a maximum certified takeoff weight of 1320 pounds.  Lots of existing aircraft fall under that definition.  It includes everything up to the size of a Piper Cub.  The Pietenpol plans-built airplane I'm standing next to in this picture is a good example.  The design was originally published in 1928, and was meant to be powered with an engine from a Model A Ford.

But, when the Definition of an LSA and the new type of "Light-Sport" pilot certificate became law, more than a hundred new makes and models of LSA came to market, from a whole slew of new companies all over the world. I would say that's unprecedented, but it's happened twice before: (1) when airplanes were first invented, and (2) during the Second World War.

So I have to wonder "What's with all the Hubbub... Bub?"  Has there been a sudden explosion of interest in antique designs?  Are slow, underpowered machines suddenly fashionable?  Why would anyone pay $125,000 for an itty-bitty airplane, when better machines can be bought for half as much?  And why would dozens of manufacturers be scrambling to produce hundreds of new models when so many old ones are available?

The simple answers to these questions is that the "Sport Pilot" certificate opens flying up to a whole new group of would-be pilots, and that new materials and technologies make better aircraft possible, but these ideas, also, are a lot more complicated than they seem.  I'll explore this issue, and respond to your comments, in part 2 of 3 of "What's an LSA?" next week.

It' s not actually illegal, but...

It's not actually illegal for citizens of foriegn countries to learn to fly in the U.S....

But it might as well be.

Since the attacks on September 11, 2001, various rules, requirements, regulations, and bureaucratic shennanigans have been put into place which make it difficult, and all but impossible, to travel to the United States to learn to fly a plane.  These rules existed in pure chaos for about four years, until they finally settlled more or less into the shape they're in now.  The result is that many flight schools simply do not take foriegn appliclants.

I should know.  I'm the guy to talk to here if that's what you want to do.

If this country had wanted to make it illegal outright, then they simply should have.  Instead, they did this:

• Non-US Citizens are required by 14CFR 1552 to register at a website run by the TSA (yes, that's the same TSA that makes you take off your shoes and belt at the airport) at http://www.flightschoolcandidates.gov/.  Prospective flight students will need to register a user name and password, and name the school where they want to go.
• That school gets an email (if they've registered with that same website as a flight training provider) from the TSA asking if the candidate's application is legitimate and should be accepted.
• The candidate then needs to register his or her fingerprints with a law enforcement agency, which electronically transmits them to the TSA, and must also provide a list of any aliases or alternate names they have used in the past (say, because they got married).
• The candidate then needs to pay a $130 fee for each "training request."  This is required for each new category and class of aircraft in which they seek certification, and for an instrument rating.  Typically, one training request is submitted at a time.
• A waiting period is established while the TSA runs a background check on the candidates' names and fingerprints.  If any information is missing, contradictory, or inconclusive, the application can be bounced back to the candidate, who may have to supply additional information.  Sometimes the process is pretty quick.  Sometimes it's not.  Candidates are advised to start this process 60 days before their planned starting date.
• Eventually, the school recieves either a notice of approval which allows training to begin, or a notice of denial.
• When their training starts, the school needs to (a) notify the TSA, (b) take a picture of the candidate and electronically transmit it to the TSA, and (c) notify the TSA of any changes to the candidates' status as a student.
• If a student wants to change schools (say, because they like the one across the street better), then they need to put in a new training request and pay a new $130 fee and submit to a new background check.
• ALSO, the TSA may, at any time, send a notification that all training is to stop.

To hard-liners out there, this may sound reasonable- after all, terrorists want to fly planes into buildings, right?  Maybe.  But these rules apply to ALL non-US Citizens, including people who have been living legally in the US as "Resident Aliens" for many years.  My school had a student who began the TSA's process, but got sworn in as a U.S. Citizen before they could manage to approve him.  It was a little puzzling about what to do with his file, since it was active, but the rules no longer applied to his case.  He said that becoming a citizen was easier.

But if you want to travel to the USA for the purpose of flight training, there's a whole other process: SEVIS- the "Student & Exchange Visitor Information Sytem," which is part of US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).  Because it's an entirely different department of the government, they, of course, have their own process, their own rules, and their own website, which requires new usernames and passwords.

• The school must be "SEVIS-approved" by the Student and Exchange Visitor Program (SEVP) and receive a SEVIS code.  That school must name a Primary Designated School Official (PDSO) and may also name other Designated School Officials (DSOs) who must go through a training program and create unique usernames and passwords which must be changed every 90 days.
• This allows them access to a website which can be used to create an I-20, which is a document that sponsors an M-1 (educational) Visa for a candidate's passport.  ICE does not create or control the Visa (the US Department of State does that), but must accompany the Visa and Passport in order to prove that the Visa is valid.
• To create an I-20, the school must collect information about the candidates' name or names, address, employers, family, etc., and provide information about the courses they plan to take, the costs of those courses, and how the candidates plan to pay for the entire thing.
• The candiates need to make an appointment with the State Department at a US Embassy and take their I-20, as well as documentation about everything on it, to this appointment, where the Visa will hopefully be granted.
• Upon entering the country, the I-20 must be activated, validated, and maintained by the PDSO or a DSO of the school, and a new I-20 must be issued, which is exactly like the old one, but it won't be stamped.
• If the student wants to change schools, his or her I-20 has to be cancelled by the school that sponsored it, and a new I-20 must be issued by the new school.  If it turns out they can't do this, the student has to leave the country.
• A students' I-20 can be cancelled, or it can expire, or it can be renedered invalid by the TSA.  It's not impossible for that to happen without anyone noticing until they try to cross a border.

SEVIS, by the way, is the same process that college students need to go through if they want to come to the US to learn nuclear physics. They don't need to go through TSA to do that, though.

If you've got a headache from all this, I do too.  Just take this home and put it under your pillow:

There are 36 countries in the world which are part of the "Visa Waver" program- that is, you don't need a Visa at all  to enter the United States if you're a Citizen of one of these countries.  There are 195 countries in the world, so that works out to about one-in-six.  You can stay in the U.S. for up to 90 days, doing pretty much whatever you want, except having a job you get paid for.

To put this in further perspective, one of the tourist attractions the U.S. has to offer is thanks to our unique perspective on gun laws- Non- U.S. Citizens coming to Wyoming, Colorado, Hawaii, and other states are able to enjoy handling, loading, and firing fully automatic machine guns at ranges catering specifically to them.  Do they need a Visa and a background check?  Nope.

Want to take flying lessons, if you're from Toronto? Red tape out the wazoo.

The Not-So-Noble Lie

On Friday, I was flying with Chris, who’s been working on his private pilot's certificate on-and-off for years, in four or five different kinds of airplanes, with I don’t know how many instructors. I’ve finished up his program, and we’re getting his checkride done this week. Chris is a thoughtful guy, and I always enjoy talking with him. He’s one of the most inquisitive and introspective students I’ve ever had. And something came up that turned into one of those “Aha!” moments for my students that I absolutely live for.

Every so often, I’m able to make professional use of my degree in Philosophy. It’s very very rare, but it happens. Yesterday, while I was a thousand feet in the air, doing something that would have been unthinkable 2400 years ago, Plato once again makes himself relevant to me.

In the Republic, Plato has Socrates describe a “Noble Lie,” which he presents as a myth necessary for (or at least greatly beneficial to) society. Its falsehood is supposed to be outweighed by the harmony and social justice that would result if it were to be taken as the truth. It wasn’t an allegory, or a parable, but was meant to be used as an article of faith.

When I was in college, that occurred to me as a total cop-out. At best, it’s just cheap trick, but at worst, it’s an unforgivable compromise of Plato’s reverence for Truth. I mean, we’d just gotten done with that whole “shadows on the wall of the cave” analogy, so tossing "Truth" out the window in favor of “Justice” seemed…icky. I know that’s a juvenile reaction, and I understand that a mature and scholarly reflection of the entire work casts Plato’s myth-of-the-metals in a different light, but that’s not the point here.

The point is that I didn’t like it, and I still don’t.

And, while Plato’s own Noble Lie isn’t relevant to flying airplanes, the concept of a “Noble Lie” applies to a lot of stuff in flight training. Teaching people things that aren’t strictly true, but which are intended to produce good results if they’re understood as true, is everywhere in my field of work. And I like that even less.

Now, I have philosophical reasons for disliking it, but I can suck that up. I mostly have to deal with the problems that arise when flight training’s “Noble Lies” fail to produce their intended good results…which happens a lot. Then, you have a real lack of understanding, and a practical inability to accomplish or explain a task, and usually, a lot of confusion surrounding it.

This happened with Chris, downwind in the pattern at Orlando Executive airport. We’re a little too high and a little too fast coming abeam the aiming point.  I pointed this out to him.  Faced with the need to descend and slow down, Chris wiggled the stick a bit, then asked me: “Okay… so is it ‘pitch-for-airspeed’ now?”

The next 1500 words you’re about to read occurred all at once in my head, prefaced by a big “Oh, Dear.” Chris was struggling with a Noble Lie he’d been taught, and it was getting in the way of flying the plane. Of course, I couldn’t just spit it all out right then- timing was critical at that moment, so I said:

“Just fly it.  The plane isn’t behaving any differently just because we’re in the pattern. We’ll talk more when we’re done with this approach. Just fly the way you usually do.” And then he did.

The Noble Lie he’d been taught goes something like this: 

Normally, when you fly an airplane, use the power as your primary control for airspeed (more power = go faster, less power = go slower) and you use pitch as your primary control for altitude (pull up = climb, push down = descend).

However, when operating at speeds below minimum drag, the airplane is operating on the “back side of the power curve” and controls enter the “region of reverse command” in which that relationship is reversed.

This is the case during “slow flight” and during an approach to land. Pitch attitude becomes the primary control for airspeed (pull up = go slower, push down = go faster) and power is the primary control for altitude (more power = climb, less power = descend).

This confusing wad of jargon has befuddled more student pilots (including me) than I can even count. If you haven't learned to fly, you're probably blinking and saying "huh?"  If you have learned to fly, you're probably groaning and thinking "Oh God. That... stuff."  And if you're Johnny Expert and have come to peace with it, you're probably pretty darn proud of yourself for thinking "oh yes, that's not so hard."  But it is hard. This generates thousands upon thousands of student pilot questions, and many hours of double-talk by CFIs and mentor pilots who may not be too sure about it themselves.

Now, to be fair, there is merit to this Noble Lie. It does work, when understood correctly, and when someone is flying well, this is pretty much what you'd see them do. The way I've carefully stated it here is the way it's been passed down from generation to generation, like folklore.  Most CFIs will still parrot it out just the way they learned it, and they'll tell you you're wrong if you disagree.  It has legitimate origins in a superceded FAA manual called the Flight Training Handbook. Interestingly, it's still mentioned in the current edition of the Airplane Flying Handbook as somethng to avoid (p. 8-19), but it's no longer given as the proper technique for "Slow Flight." Instead, they warn you about the same effect, but they call it "speed instability" and tell you how to get out of it (p. 4-2).

That's a good thing.  As a student, this confused the crap out of me. Jerry, my regular CFI, spat the Noble Lie out at me chapter-and-verse, and stood by it. I tried to nail him down to a specific speed at which “reverse command” takes effect, and, after some reflection, he said “best glide speed.” Since that was within three or four knots of my final approach speed, it looked to me like we’d be in-and-out of it as my speed wobbled around on final the way it usually did.  As a result, I was perpetually torn between trying to micro-manage airspeed with pitch, and trying to hold the aiming point steady in the windscreen.


I finally asked Jeff, the chief pilot, and he just sighed and lowered his head. Now I know why. That was his big "Oh, Dear." He told me not to worry about reverse command until I was deeply into the flair. That worked! It worked even better because I still wasn't worried about it deeply into the flair, since I was completely distracted by the process of landing. So, I ended up ignoring it completely. Wise man, that Jeff.

But, back to my student, Chris. He’d learned this stuff from somewhere, attempted to transition between "normal" and "reversed" commands, and got lost trying to connect the dots. His problem wasn’t just that he was too fast for it. He was flying perfectly well, then he started thinking about this, and got disoriented about what to do. Here’s how his gears were grinding-

• I need to both descend and slow down. According to this “reverse command” thing, I don’t see how I can do both at the same time. Which should I do first?
• I’m about to maneuver to land. Am I in ‘the region of reverse command’ or not?

• If not, I need to push forward on the stick to descend, but if so, I need to pull back on the throttle to descend instead, and,
• If not, I need to pull back on the throttle to slow down, but if so, I need to pull back on the stick to slow down instead…

• …and that’s if I’m getting it right. Do I have it right?

It’s fairly easy to bemoan someone’s lack of basic flying skills, or complain that people aren’t teaching the “four fundamentals,” or that the guy wasn’t using trim properly. But that's not the problem. Chris’s “four fundamentals” were solid, because his flying was okay both (a) before this confusion occurred to him, and (b) after I’d told him to ignore this concern. The problem was that thinking about the Noble Lie of “reverse command” derailed his essentially solid flying skills by making him believe that he’d have to start doing everything "backwards."

So, after the touch-and-go, I took the controls on the downwind departure, and showed him this (which also works at 100 knots, and 80, and 60, and any speed at which the stall horn isn't screaming bloody murder into both of your ears): 

• Trimmed out at 90 knots, level, I push the throttle forward, with no change to elevator pressure. What happens? We gain RPM and speed up. What else happens? The extra speed makes us pitch up and climb. Then what? The nose going up makes us lose RPM and slow down. The overall effect? Adding power creates a dynamically stable oscillation into a climb, close to our trimmed-out airspeed.

• Again, trimmed out at 90 knots, I pull the throttle back, with no change to elevator pressure. What happens? We lose RPM and slow down. What else happens? Our nose drops and we descend. Then what? The nose dropping builds RPM and speeds us up. The overall effect? Decreasing power creates a dynamically stable oscillation into a descent, close to our trimmed-out airspeed.

•  Again, trimmed out at 90 knots, I pull back on the stick, with no change in throttle setting. What happens? The nose goes up. What else happens? We slow down and lose RPM. Then what? Slowing down drops our nose a bit. The overall effect? Pulling back on the stick creates a dynamically stable oscillation into a climb, below our trimmed-out airspeed.

• Again, trimmed out at 90 knots, I push forward on the stick, with no change in throttle setting. What happens? The nose drops. What else happens? We speed up and gain RPM. Then what? The gain in speed and RPM pitches our nose back up. The overall effect? Pushing forward on the stick creates a dynamically stable oscillation into a descent, above our trimmed-out airspeed.

The moral of the story: Any change you make in the throttle shows up in RPM, speed, and pitch attitude. Any change you make in elevator pressure also shows up in pitch attitude, speed, and RPM. Those two controls are tied together through the performance and stability of the airplane.  Therefore, if you want to climb, descend, speed up, or slow down, you have to work both controls together. It doesn’t make sense to try to isolate their functions while learning to do this.

Putting it all together-

• Climb = add power and pull up the nose.
• Descend = reduce power and let the nose down.
• Speed up = add power and hold the nose down.
• Slow down = reduce power and hold the nose up

"Reverse command” doesn’t change that when you're at or below best glide speed, or on an approach. Flying the plane is always about finding the balance of attitude and power which produces the behavior you want, and trimming away control pressure when stabilized.

Put more simply- Just Fly It.  Screw the Noble Lie.

That was Chris’s “Aha!” moment. “Oh,” he said on his next approach, “I can just fly it.” And that time, he did a nice job.