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“The pilot in command of an aircraft is directly responsible for, and is the final authority as to, the operation of that aircraft.”
FAR 91.3 is one of the simplest and best known federal aviation regulations, and it clearly defines the most essential job as a pilot: to be the boss for the entire flight. But as obvious as this sounds, it’s surprisingly hard to do in the real world. That’s especially true for instrument pilots, where Air Traffic Control sounds like they are running the show, the avionics seem to direct the flight along predefined routes, and the autopilot actually flies the airplane. Little by little, your authority as PIC can be eroded until no one is actually in command.
Consider the following accident report, a representative one picked mostly at random, which recounts how the pilot of an A36 Bonanza got behind the airplane, lost situational awareness, and ultimately crashed on an RNAV approach. There were probably many mistakes here, from lack of avionics knowledge to poor situational awareness, but the real question is: was anyone pilot in command?
“The instrument conditions, likely turbulence, and increased workload imposed by beginning the approach phase of the flight presented a situation that was conducive to the development of spatial disorientation and a loss of situational awareness. Given that the pilot maintained a position east of the final approach course for most of the approach and far below the minimum published altitude throughout the approach, it is likely that he had lost situational awareness of the airplane’s position. No information was available to determine the modes or settings of the avionics and/or autopilot during the approach. Whether the pilot’s familiarity with the relatively new avionics and their interface with the autopilot contributed to the accident could not be determined based on the available information.”
The pilot in the left seat
As that accident shows, being PIC is a full time job. But what does that really mean, beyond the 23 words in FAR 91.3? A great place to start is with the holy trinity of aviation—aviate, navigate, communicate. These categories apply whether you’re flying a Cub on a summer evening or a business jet on an RNAV approach. They aren’t just a list of priorities in an emergency, they also neatly sum up the different roles a pilot must play, roles that used to be divided very specifically on the flight deck of an airliner.
Consider the amazing picture below, taken on the flight deck of a Boeing 314 flying boat over 80 years ago. There is a captain (PIC), a first officer (aviate), a navigator (navigate), a radio operator (communicate), and even a flight engineer (responsible for managing the engines).
In the cockpit of a modern GA airplane, there is probably only one person to do all of these jobs—you! Fortunately, you have much more technology than the captain of that Clipper: the first officer has been replaced by an autopilot, the navigator has been replaced by a GPS, the radio operator has been replaced by modern VHF radios with push-to-talk switches and ANR headsets, and the flight engineer has been replaced by digital engine instruments. These digital flight crew members never get tired or need fresh coffee, they don’t have personalities to manage and they have access to much better information. But they also have no situational awareness and no idea how their little world fits into the broader mission.
When I’m cruising along on a single-pilot IFR flight, I like to think about that picture and remind myself that while technology has taken away four of those jobs, it has not and will not take away the job of the captain sitting in the left seat. It’s up to me to monitor my crew (most of them go by “Garmin”) and make sure they are doing exactly what I want them to do. Maybe we need to add a new word to the famous three-word phrase: aviate, navigate, communicate, then delegate.
Aviate, navigate, communicate
To be an effective captain in a digital cockpit, you need to understand ”aviate, navigate, communicate” beyond its classic meaning. More than just a list of negatives (don’t crash, don’t get lost, don’t lose contact), it describes a mental approach to flying that includes multiple levels of proficiency.
Aviate means, first and foremost, keeping the airplane under control. On an IFR flight that starts with basic attitude instrument flying. This is a fundamental skill, and nothing else matters if you fail at it. Sadly, as I’ve written before, this is a leading cause of IFR accidents because it’s the first skill to go when pilots start to lose currency. Quite simply, your first goal as an instrument pilot is to never lose the ability to hand-fly the airplane on raw data if needed. That might be exactly what the Bonanza pilot above needed to do.
These days, “aviate” means knowing your autopilot inside and out.
There’s a second level of aviate for modern pilots, though, and this involves autopilot proficiency. Autopilots are neither a savior nor a curse; they are simply a fact of life these days, and a major safety enhancement if used properly. “Used properly” is the key part—you need to know much more than just heading mode. What lateral and vertical modes are available? Where are status messages displayed? What’s the difference between an armed mode and an active mode? Perhaps most importantly, do you understand the different levels of automation, from yaw damper to flight director to fully coupled, and do you know how to move quickly between levels?
A good test is to go flying (with a safety pilot) and, before pushing a button on the autopilot or flight director, say out loud what you are trying to do and what you expect the autopilot to do once engaged. Make sure your expectations match reality before you blast off on a single-pilot IFR flight. And when you do, remember that even with the autopilot flying (your digital first officer), you are still pilot in command. George works for you.
Navigate these days is mostly about learning to use the avionics, because nobody gets lost anymore—unless they are lost in their glass cockpit’s menus. Proficient and fast avionics use is an absolutely essential skill in 2025, not a nice-to-have bit of aviation trivia. If you can’t operate your avionics at a very high level then you are not a proficient pilot. For instrument pilots, this means knowing how to load procedures (arrivals, departures, approaches) in all their various forms plus the finer points of approaches (which minima line applies) and how to modify them on the fly. Mastering this requires practice in the airplane, but don’t underestimate how much you can learn from a video or a simulator app. Book work and sim time really do pay off.
Navigate also means managing weather, because that’s often the biggest challenge on an IFR flight. We no longer need to worry about identifying VORs and dialing in the right radial, but we do need to worry about that thunderstorm sitting right on top of our direct route or the low ceiling at our destination. Understanding weather theory and mastering technology like datalink radar is important, but so is the ability to maintain a big picture view of your flight: how does the weather affect your desired route and ATC’s priorities? Fitting these pieces together is the key to a smooth and efficient IFR flight, and again, your avionics are not qualified to do this job.
Communicate sounds self-explanatory, and it mostly is. Being able to communicate clearly and efficiently is always helpful in aviation, but IFR flying makes it mandatory. Beyond the basics of getting a clearance and managing frequency changes, IFR communications requires a degree of self-advocacy and even negotiation skills. If you are headed for a thunderstorm, you can pretty much throw the pilot-controller glossary out the window—just tell the human on the other end of the mic that you need to do something different. The more experienced you get, the more you become willing to talk like a human on the radio.
That scenario leads directly into the second level of communications, which is less about talking on the radio and more about understanding the IFR system and how ATC works. If you know what to expect, you can be both more efficient (ask for the shortcut at the right time) and more polite (don’t make a stupid request). Reading the AIM is a good start, but there are a lot of details that mostly come from experience, so there is no replacement for getting out there and flying in it. Pay attention to details, like where you get handed off from approach to center, or why you always get a certain route when the weather is low. This can help you build a mental map of the IFR system around you, which reduces workload and keeps you ahead of the airplane.
What PIC means
What all three of these tasks have in common is that they are intentionally directed by the pilot in command. They do not just happen, they are planned and executed within the context of an overarching strategy. Doing this successfully requires pilots to develop some unnatural habits for humans: assessing the current situation with brutal honesty, evaluating multiple options quickly, and making tough decisions under pressure. These can never be outsourced to avionics or air traffic control, partly because they are not equipped to do the job but mostly because they have no skin in the game. Remember, it’s you who will pay the price for a mistake, not the approach controller or the Garmin circuit board.
If Bob Buck could fly needle, ball, and airspeed then surely we can keep the blue side up with a G1000?
That sounds like a lot of work, and it certainly can be when the radio is alive and the weather is bad. Is it all worth it? I think so. If you remain PIC, you can experience the pure joy of instrument flying, which I believe is the most rewarding thing you can do in an airplane.
Bob Buck, who would certainly be on the Mount Rushmore of aviation if there ever were one, brilliantly describes the stresses and rewards of instrument flying in his book The Pilot’s Burden. On the one hand, Buck shows how far aviation has come—after all, he is writing about flying an open cockpit Pitcairn biplane in IMC, as one of the first dozen or so people to have ever done it—but on the other hand, these paragraphs could easily have been written yesterday:
“I knew I had to get the needle centered, the ball back where it belonged, to survive. I concentrated as never before, and the airplane tracked true as the altimeter hand crawled upward.
At 3000 feet I leveled off, set cruise RPM, and moved back a bit from the edge of the seat. Then a strange thing happened. The tenseness subsided, and I felt quite at ease, with an unexpected feeling of security. I wasn’t down there ducking obstructions, trying to see through poor visibility, sticking my face out into the stinging rain, straining for vision; no, I was flying high, relaxed, and feeling protected.”
That “feeling of security” is a strange but powerful sensation when you first experience it while flying through a cloud. I would compare it to the best runner’s high (for better or for worse, I am unable to compare it to drug-induced highs), and it makes all the long instrument lessons worthwhile. Just don’t feel too secure, because that’s when complacency can set in. Next thing you know it, you’ve stopped being PIC.
On the other hand, you shouldn’t get too excited either, as Buck apparently did after exiting IMC:
“I’d flown out of the weather! What an exhilarating feeling! I did a loop and at the top went into the clouds for an instant and then rushed down the backside into clear air again.”
At least you could say Bob Buck remained pilot in command the whole time. That, if not the loop, is a great lesson for instrument pilots in the 21st century.
- Pilot’s Bucket List: 11 Must-Do Adventures After Earning Your License - March 14, 2025
- Who is the pilot in command of your aircraft? - February 10, 2025
- The pros and the cons: Cirrus SR22 - January 13, 2025
A small related corollary: There was a relatively recent crash of a twin-engine Cessna (22G) that was probably due to spatial disorientation – ASI covered it in their excellent “Deadly Disorientation” video.
What has me so rattled about it however, was not the spatial disorientation bits – we all know that SD can happen to any pilot no matter the hours – but how could he not know that he was two button presses away at the point of glidescope intercept (HDG mode then arm APR mode once cleared to intercept the final approach course) from landing safely? Yeah, it was a circle, but he would have been under the deck and could go visual. And worse still, he was ONE button away from straight and level flight once he got into trouble. None of the Garmin avionics he had (and he had EVERYTHING) saved him. It is just so disheartening to hear a story like this unfold. I want to believe he had some kind of strange total electrical failure just to rationalize all of this. And he was no low time pilot in that aircraft either.
Unfortunately, PICs who are not effective at assessing their proficiency/planning prep for their next flight are the same ones not effective in assessing their mental capacity for their next flight. Fatigue, mental fog, complacency all stack up when the situation becomes more challenging than anticipated.
The perceived pressure of a business or family trip is better handled by the PIC who puts their PIC responsibility ahead of their non-flying roles, and has the environmental and self awareness to understand when the prudent call is to wait for a better match of existing conditions with PIC capability at that moment…allowing for better planning, better weather and some rest/focus.
oops, should have been “RichR”…not “RicR”
The question in general aviation has often come up, who is PIC when a CFI is instructing a licensed and current pilot? Also, a similar case of a CFI giving a flight review to a licensed and current pilot, or a CFI giving instruction to a licensed pilot who is not current. In case of an accident, who is the PIC, and who is ultimately responsible?
Well written and relevant article. I just had an autopilot failure on a 3 year old plane with a G3000, basically top of the line. Never take a flight you can’t hand fly to safety because you have an autopilot.
Great article!
Many, many good points.
I always enjoy your articles, but this one is particularly well written and makes really excellent points. Thanks for the work you do John to keep us on our toes!
Another great article John. I’ve been flying IFR for 45 years. I lived by the AH. We didn’t know exactly where we were. An ADF approach in a crosswind was pretty sketchy. It seems it should be so easy with all the modern tools. I recently purchased my first autopilot, and for the first time in all these years I felt overwhelmed. My traditional gauges were gone, replaced with an instrument with a whole bunch of information that comes and goes depending on how the radios are tuned and approaches selected. I’m thankful for the Garmin blue button until I regain my confidence. Then I’ll fly some real IMC.
This was a great story and I forgot how many pilots it used to take to fly a plane with Aviate, Navigate and Communicate (as it was before my time). IFR Flying is not something I encounter in my recreation flying but the training is priceless. I believe that all the training for IFR explodes the knowledge of Navigate and Communicate as a single PIC in the cockpit. I fly in the DELMARVA area and with the DC SFRA, Camp David, larger bodies of water (Chesapeake Bay, Delaware Bay, etc., knowing how to create a flight plan in VFR to stay clear of those areas, fly closer to land (hug the coast) remaining clear of quite a number of Class B airspaces, knowing to fly using airways, waypoints, talking to ATC with Flight Following, asking for Class B clearance is a big take away for me with the IFR training and knowledge and keeps me safer as a VFR pilot.
About auto pilots. I have a Lancair 320. With an old blue man. A/p. One day on takeoff I decided to use it. I selected the gps track I wanted. Turned on the a/p. The plane within a second took a deep dive after a full stop in the air which pitched us 2 violently to the top of the cockpit and opening the canopy. On this deep dive I could not pull the stick back to level. What saved me is when I closed the a/p. But it was DOWN. Vertical instead of in front of me.the reason was because when I flipped on the a/p the alt. Setting was 0.00. Never used it again.i am a lucky survivor
Hi John,
Enjoyed your short article but….(smile)
Thank you for sharing your thoughts.
In the real world, a fine balance as to who is in command and who is not exists.
Some airlines poorly teach CRM.
May I share a short historical story – DC10 Fire Evacuation 8 Mar 1998 Manchester UK. Check it out.
FA bangs on cockpit door.
He yells, “Captain, we have fumes in the back.”
Now, what did that tell me?
Might it be poison gas or my popping off after eating Mexican Food?
Please, define “fumes” so I am properly informed.
Then I smelled a petroleum smell.
I said to my FO, “Get us clearance back to the gate.”
He disagreed.
He exercised his CRM rights as I assume he believed he was taught and countered my request.
He explained on his own, “Captain, I think all we have is a tailwind blowing that vapor to the front of our CF6 engine and the fumes getting into our bleed system and into our plane! We have no problem, you are over reacting he inferred.
I sat in my seat thinking…
How many hours flying planes using GE engines – thousands of hours!
My FO does not know the exhaust gas out of a CFG at idle is approximately going aft at 85 knots.
A 15 knot direct tailwind going forward results in a total aft speed of 70 knots.
FACT: for those molecules to get inside the CF6 engine would require circumnavigation our planet!
That morning I had a copilot, age 45, single, drives a Saturn sharing his thoughts!
A SO whose competence was questionable, only female pilot I ever flew with who was not average or above.
These two forced me say a short prayer to GOD thanking me for the experiences I had had up to that point in life.
For me flying safely –
1) Fly the airplane, if nothing more, fly needle ball and airspeed.
2) avoid ARROGANCE ..have an open mind, listen to everyone as best you can, do not look down on anyone.
3) avoid IGNORANCE …know your machine and environment.
It would take a short book or maybe even a larger one to explain.
Then later I seek out the Fleet Manager Bill Sear and he thinks all I had was a tail pipe fire…!
The last thing one needs – luck. Very important LUCK is.
That my friend is the real world of aviation.
One of the best posts I’ve read on the topic of flying whether it’s an A330 or a Piper Arrow.
John, every word of your article on being the PIC was spot on! And like you, I love flying in the IFR system and love flying in the weather. I retired from United at 65 more than 10 years ago and I currently fly the Pilatus PC-12NG professionally. In your article, you mention that not being adept at using today’s advanced avionics can cause a huge problem for the GA pilot, and that it may have been the cause for the Bonanza pilot’s accident. To validate your point, in my Pilatus to go direct to a fix requires 6 individual steps using a joy stick and a cursor on my Pilot Flight Display Screen. In the old days, we would simply center the needle and turn the airplane. Flying the Pilatus single pilot in IMC under heavy ATC can result in a heavy workload that borders on being overwhelmed, even for me, a 30,000 hour pilot. I teach seminars on IFR subjects for the GA pilot in the Cessna and Piper Owner Magazines and teach seminars on this subject to the young CFIs at 2 local flight schools. One of my articles is on the very subject you wrote about. It is entitled Pilot in Command Authority and one of the points I make is that you are the PIC, and if ATC issues a clearance that will put you in danger, you can refuse to accept it. It is amzazing how many GA pilots do not know you can refuse an ATC clearance if it will compromise safety. I would love so send it to you, but do not have your contact info. Joel Turpin ATP, CFII, FAA Master Pilot.
I have a lot of PC-12 time myself, so I can picture exactly the inputs you have to make on that panel – far too many in my opinion! But this is why true avionics proficiency, not just “good enough,” is essential these days. You have to know the system inside and out, so you can make it work when time is short. I wish this got far more attention during instrument training.
I also think we need to teach some different strategies for managing overload. If you can’t get the avionics set up right away, put the autopilot in heading mode and get pointed the right direction while you work on it.
I’ve been flying piston engine airplanes in IMC for over 50 years. In the 70’s-90’s the autopilot was a sometimes convenience, but not to be trusted and monitored like a CFI flying with a student pilot. That saved my bacon on multiple occasions when it had a mind of its own. It was never trusted for tight approaches, those were always hand-flown.
GPS, the glass cockpit, and the autopilots of today are wonderful when everything is programmed correctly and all the equipment works flawlessly. However, as PIC my attitude is to manage the equipment by repeatedly “Verifying before Trusting”. Yes, I’ve had autopilot and nav equipment failures in recent years. Murphy still lives among us. In some ways, the old paper was easier to manage, but much bulkier.
The autopilot needs flight plans and approaches loaded correctly to do what pilots intended. When flight plan or approach changes inflight are necessary, the propensity for data entry mistakes are high, and corrections are time consuming. All that is a serious distraction to maintaining control of the plane. The autopilot will follow what it is fed, not necessarily what we intended.
It takes strong discipline and practice to prioritize our actions when using and managing the “buttonology” electronics and autopilot, especially when making changes. Practice reduces risk, and I find simulators are great for gaining proficiency. In flight, fly the airplane first.
George Futas, CFII
I loved your idea of assigning the designation of crew members to your various engine instruments and the auto pilot.
During flights we need to think a few steps ahead of your aircraft. Be situationally aware.
A wonderful article that weaves the role of the Pilot in Command (PIC) with the aspects of airmanship skills, the airplane and the realm that they both fly through. Your including the historical perspective of the Boeing 314 shows that the the job of aviating is basically unchanged through the years but the tools are significantly different and understanding them is critical.
You are absolutely spot on that the pilot in command must always be ready to take control and hand fly. This may be necessary in the event of malfunctions or failures of our avionics systems. However if the pilot is disconnecting the autopilot or reverting to a basic autopilot mode due to not understanding how it works,then a deeper dive into the books and some targeted instruction is probably needed.
In the Navigate section, you said,“Proficient and fast avionics use is an absolutely essential skill…” I understand but think that “Proficient and quick…” may serve us better. Legendary basketball Coach John Wooden told his players to “Be quick but don’t hurry!” I think that comports with an accurate, steady and deliberate pace in our cockpits.
One of my instructing mentors during my airline career passed on this nugget when teaching technically advanced aircraft, “Just remember, this automation doesn’t have a wife and kids to go home to at the end of the day.”
Flying instruments in the manner you and Captain Bob Buck describe is one of the most satisfying aspects one can experience aloft.
Thanks for connecting some important dots.
-Chris Dyer