LLama hit the punchline. What you need to actively watch is a small fraction of everything.
Your pic of a 747-100/200/300 was about the worst example of visual overload in the history of aviation. Even then it’s not as bad as all that.
You can divide the stuff in any cockpit into several categories:[ol]
[li]Stuff only used by maintenance staff.[/li][li]Stuff only used in emergencies or in response to malfunctions.[/li][li]Stuff only used to get the airplane started or shut down.[/li][li]Stuff used to operate the machinery, not control the airplane’s path.[/li][li]Stuff used to communicate and navigate.[/li][li]Stuff used to assess and control the airplane’s path.[/ol]Only the last category needs to be monitored in real time.[/li]
If you’ll open a browser to your pic we’ll dissect the panel sections.
All the stuff along the right wall in the foreground is the Fight Engineer’s panel. He/She uses that stuff for 2, 3, and 4. Rarely they’ll need to use the Type 2 switches & idiot lights. They use the much more numerous type 3s once at each end of a flight then forget about 'em, and they have a bunch of guages, knobs, and switches that get used regularly as the flight goes along. Such as watching the temperature in various sections of the cabin and tweaking the several thermostats up or down a smidgen. It’s 98% don’t-touch or set-and-forget. 2% gets used regularly while we’re in motion.
Along the ceiling above the windshields you’ll see 3 panel sections. The one furthest forward has a bunch of toggle switches sticking out. Then aft of that are two similar looking panels that look like an undifferentiated regular array of little white lights and pushbuttons.
Those latter two, and the small diagonal panel at upper left foreground, are circuit breakers. Hundreds of them. Almost all of which the crew *never * looks at or touches. A few, maybe 10, might be referenced in an emergency procedure. The lights you see are the backlighting that’s designed to not be visible from where we sit. But really adds to the Christmas tree dazzle effect when viewed from aft. Normally all those lights are off and that’s just a big wall-o-darkness that nobody needs to pay any attention to. Those are 98% Type 1 with a couple percent of Type 2.
The forwardmost panel on the overhead is where the pilots control their part of the machinery. So same idea as the flight engineer’s panel but more about interacting with the outside world and less about the innards of the machine as a machine. So we rarely use the Type 2 switches & idiot lights, we use the type 3s once per flight then forget about 'em, and we have a couple of Type 4 switches that get used regularly as the situation dictates. Such as exterior lights that are switched off or on depending on day vs. night or clouds vs. clear or low vs. high altitude. Again it’s 98% don’t-touch or set-and-forget. 2% gets used regularly while we’re in motion.
So that leaves just the stuff below the windshield that’s ahead of and alongside the pilots. That’s where the flying happens.
Each pilot has an array of 8 large gauges in front of them. In the pic they’re partly obscured by the yoke. That is what we use to assess the airplane’s path. That’s the Type 6 stuff that really matters all the time. The pilot actually flying the airplane is looking at that, and pretty much only that, pretty much continuously except for short glances elsewhere. The other pilot is also watching their copy of the same gauges looking for any surprises when they’re not temporarily busy doing something else.
The airplane is steered by the yoke in one hand and the 4 throttles in the center grasped as a group in the other hand. That’s the rest of Type 6. From start of takeoff through end of landing the pilot flying could have ahold of just those two things and never let go except to scratch his nose. The other pilot handles the rest. 8 gauges, two levers and that’s it; you’re the pilot. Everything else is ancillary details. Everything.
The stuff on the lower console between the pilots is mostly Type 5: comm and nav. There’s the part you can see aft of the throttles, plus a smaller section just forward of them that’s hard to see in the pic. That section of cockpit is the other pilot’s main concern. Even so, other than talking on the radio which happens every minute or 5 or 10, that panel’s not touched but every 20 minutes in cruise. A lot of it is set and mostly forget.
What’s left are the engine gauges at front center. As others have said, there’s 4 columns for 4 engines. One gauge in each column, usually the topmost one, is the one referenced when setting power. The others matter when starting engines, or a malfunction happens, or as a general cross check of engine health. And since you operate all 4 engines as a unit, practically speaking a pilot will be looking just at either the upper right one or upper left one while adjusting power. After that a periodic glance over there that all the rest more or less agree with their mates on either side and nobody is pointing crazy and that’s about it.
Folks have mentioned the idea that “normal all points to 3 o’clock” or whatever. That idea was tried in the 1960s and pretty well abandoned shortly thereafter. It was actually more confusing than a zero reading is straight up 12 o’clock, a maximum reading is all the way around clockwise to 11 o’clock, and “normal” is wherever it happens to fall. Commonly with red lines to mark minimums and maximums, and perhaps yellow caution arcs inside the redlines to indicate impending trouble or temporary use only settings.
In modern airplanes several things have happened to vastly reduce the clutter without really changing the big picture about the 6 categories.
One of the major innovations was something called “dark cockpit”. In an old airplane there would be dozens of idiot lights that were on all the time to indicate that things were working normally. That’s not done now. The only time stuff lights up is when it’s misbehaving.
Instead of festooning the panels with hundreds of idiot lights, the computer spits a message onto the forward center screen. They’re prioritized, and even if it takes 5 pages to show them all, it doesn’t take up much real estate.
Screens have let us coalesce lots of information displays onto one screen. The 747 flight engineers panel has a section with hydraulic pressure and quantity gauges, 4 of each. The electrical section has electrical voltage, current, and frequency gauges. 4 of each for the AC power. Plus 2 or 3 more voltage and current gauges for the DC power. The fuel section has 8 quantity gauges, one for each tank. Plus 4 total consumption gauges, one for each engine. The air conditioning system has … etc.
On a fully modern airplane the systems screen has pages for each system. And on each page the info is mostly digits with color codes for normal, marginal, and abnormal. The result is umpteen square feet of visual clutter is collapsed to a small focused space. That’s left completely dark until the computer notices something is awry and pops the relevant info onto the screen for crew attention.
The FE’s job on old airplanes is to be the thing that observes all this stuff and detects any out of parameter operations, then reacts using whatever controls are necessary. Now the computer is watching all those parameters all the time. There’s no need to display all of it all the time. That greatly simplifies what’s shown to the crew.
More and more of the *responses *to type 2, 3, and 4 stuff is also becoming fully auto. On an older airplane if there was an electrical malfunction the engineer was busy playing quite a tune on his switches rerouting power, eliminating excess loads, providing alternate supplies, etc. On a modern airplane a box in the basement does all that. And posts a message on the screen either telling you what it did or whining if it couldn’t.
On an old airplane starting an engine was a symphony of actions by the FE to prep the electricity, hydraulics, and air for start, the two pilots to operate the start, and all three to monitor for malfunctions. Following start the FE had another mound of fiddling to bring that engine’s accessories online and configure to start anther engine or taxi. On the real modern airplanes one pilot pushes one button and HAL does all that stuff. Including responding quickly and correctly to potentially damaging malfunctions. When HAL’s done he reconfigures everything for taxi or pops a message on the screen if he found an issue.
Old style is very conceptually simple internally, if very intricate on the surface exposed to the crew. Because we were the only brains in the outfit. Modern style is deeply complex internally and very simple at the UI surface. HAL deals with the vast array of details so we don’t have to.
Coupling this simplicity with machinery that’s 50 or 100x more reliable than 1960s stuff was has really taken the excitement out of the job.