I saw this filmed lecture when it first came out, and I remember the impact it had; in the Navy, in the squadrons and among the wives. The problem with describing it now is one of historical perspective with respect to all three groups.
First: The Navy. All changes in Navy policy are forced. As a result, they normally come about very late, and most new rules are written in blood. That was especially the case with the creation of the Naval Aviation Safety Program, which began in 1951, but wasn’t fully established for almost two decades.
And resistance to Aviation Safety dragged on for a long, long time. I can still remember walking into my Ops O’s office for a briefing before a carrier mission in the early 80s and seeing a sign on his desk that read “Safety is a Pimple on the Ass of Progress.” For most of us, safety was little more than a pledge we made to one another while nursing a beer in the O-Club that we would somehow get through our careers without being mentioned by Grandpa Pettibones.
The Air Force was the service that began applying “wild and crazy” innovations to the area of safety (such as the inclusion of psychological factors in accident investigation), but there was little chance that Navy and Marine Corps commanders would be swayed by such “outside” ideas. However, as mishap rates kept rising after combat operations ended in Viet Nam, there were few excuses left not to at least try exploring modernization in the field. That became an opening for people like Dr. Dully to get his ideas out there.
It’s hard to describe how new and cutting-edge the notion was, since it has long been an ingrained part of almost every modern professional aviator. Many of us back then already did it, but nobody had ever put a name to the concept. It was compartmentalization. Pilots had problems, just like everybody. Problems at home, problems with the spouse, problems with the kids, even problems in the bedroom. But when that person got into the cockpit of a tactical aircraft, those problems couldn’t go along for the ride. They had to stay behind. Pilots were being told that they had to psychologically divorce themselves of everything else that mattered to them (to the greatest degree possible) until they safely completed the current aviation mission.
I believe that the idea forced many squadron commanders to become more cognizant of their flyers’ personal lives, and many of them began looking for clues that aircrew members might not be able to give the necessary attention to detail that aviation demanded.
I don’t know whose bright idea it was to show it to the spouses, but the “new” notion was easily misconstrued. Being told someone should “forget” about their soul-mate for any length of time did not set well with some of those mates. But the vast majority of spouses understood the concept, and they just wanted to get their loved ones back home at the end of the day (or the cruise).
Bruce Black
