A mechanical malfunction that interferes with the operation of the plane.
My point is this - a mechanical failure that would, in all likelihood, lead to nothing more than annoyance or frustration to bus or train passengers is much more likely to be absolutely lethal for airplane passengers.
I’m not saying that this makes buses safer, I’m merely proposing it as a reason why people are more afraid of flying in planes.
Most crashes, whether on the ground or in the air, are not cause my “small failures”. Instead, there is usually a chain of events. For example:
A pilot notices his battery is dead. He goes to a mechanic and charges the battery. This delays his flight for a couple of hours. During this time, darkness nears and adverse weather threatens. The pilot launches anyway. Some time after the sun goes down and the pilot is flying in IMC, his electrical system fails. (Is this a “small failure”?) It’s cold and ice clogs the pitot tube. Without electrical power, the pitot heat cannot be used. So he’s left with no electrical instruments and no vacuum instruments in IMC at night. He tries to use his hand-held radio, but it’s also dead. He suffers from vertigo and enters the Graveyard Spiral. As the spiral tightens, the pilot fights to level the aircraft; not easy with vertigo and without a visual reference. He realizes that he is in a steep nose-down attitude. Yanking back on the yoke, he overstresses the airframe and the wings depart the airframe. Post-crash anaysis determines that the electrical failure was caused by a faulty switch or circuit breaker.
Okay, you can say that the failed switch is a small failure; but it didn’t directly cause the crash. The pilot could have elected to wait until the next day to fly, or for mor favourable weather. Having launched anyway, he could have turned around as soon as there was a hint of an in-flight electrical problem. He could have flown at a different altitude where there was no icing. He could have kept an extra pack of alkaline batteries on-hand for his hand-held radio in case the Ni-Cads were drained. He could have sycled the circuit breaker or alternator to try to bring it back online. There were quite a few places where he could have made a different decision and still be alive. It’s all perfectly clear in hindsight. It wasn’t the minor problem (the only problem with the machine in this example) that brought down the aircraft. It was a chain of poor decisions.
A real-life example of a chain of events causing a crash happened a few years ago. “The youngest pilot to fly across the U.S.” and her instructor died in the crash of the Cessna 177 Cardinal she was flying. (Technically, the flight instructor was the Pilot-in-Command.) They attempted to take off from a high-altitude airport (high density altitude = poor climb performance) in rainy weather (increases density altitude) in an airplane that was notoriously under-powered (the Cardinal series looked sleek, but it needed a bigger engine) that was loaded over the maximum gross weight. A correct decision or two would have saved lives. Nothing was wrong with the aircraft.
There are single events that can cause a crash, but I wouldn’t call them “small”. Even the loss of engine power should not cause a crash. In a single-engine aircraft the loss of an engine would cause the aircraft to come down, but a crash is not inevitable. And what caused the engine failure in the first place?
lucwarm: Of course, you’re talking about the non-pilot public’s perception, whereas I’m talking about why airplanes actually crash. 
Cervaise: Uh, I hate to feed your fears, but if you flew in a little float plane off a lake out of the bush, you were taking a fairly significant risk. As a whole the general aviation fleet has an accident rate quite a bit worse than passenger cars. On about a par with driving a motorcycle.
But flying float planes out of the bush is significantly more dangerous than flying a Cessna off of a 6000 ft paved runway. By ‘significantly’ I don’t mean to suggest that you were likely to die, but that that the accident rate for that type of flying might be more along the lines of driving a motorcyle at night in city traffic.
Safety statistics are based on averages. If you really want to know how safe a particular flight is compared to a particular drive, you have to analyze the situations. Flying in a small aircraft at night is statistically much more dangerous than flying in the daytime. On the other hand, taking a road trip in the winter in the Rocky Mountains is much, much more dangerous than driving to work. Another skewing factor is the condition of your vehicle, and your personal driving habits.
For flying, it depends whether you are flying a major carrier or a commuter airline (commuter airlines have a much worse safety record than the ‘major’ airlines - about the same as cars). It also depends on the type of trip. In an aircraft, a short trip is going to have more risk per mile than a long trip because most of the risk comes during takeoff and landing, and hopefully you’ll have one of each no matter how far you go. On the other hand, the risks of driving the car are more constant throughout the entire trip.
We could go on all night pointing out other dependent variables that have to be taken into account when analyzing a specific decision, but you get the point.
Perhaps the best question to ask would be, “If, for the next 20 years I stop flying and drive everywhere, am I more or less likely to die during that time?” By that standard, flying the airlines is much safer.
To fine-tune your response, I think what most terrifies some airline passengers is not a “total lack of control” but, rather, a total lack of escape should things really go awry.
Most phobic people can keep a lid on their fears as long as escape remains an option. Eliminate the possibility of escape and the mind becomes a breeding ground for pathology.
Maybe, maybe not. Continue reading…
Or your (or the pilot’s) personal flying habits.
We all know there’s a wide variation in car safety - there are drunks flying mechanically unsound cars and teetotalers driving cars in peak conditions while obeying all laws and safety tips. Who would you rather take a ride with?
Small general aviation is more like driving private cars than flying a big airline. Mass transportation - busses, passenger trains, airlines - operate under much more stringent rules and regulations than private citizens.
So… if the small, prop-driven plane is in good condition, flown in good weather by a competant pilot with good judgemnt - that’s probably on par with taking a long road trip. But that’s a number of “if’s” and non-pilots, as a rule, just don’t know how to judge the airworthiness of a plane or what constitutes “good weather” for that aircraft.
Likewise, Sam’s comparison of flying “out of the bush” vs off a 6000 foot paved strip - given equal pilots that is true. A pilot who has only flown off pavement is going to be at higher risk the first time he’s flying off grass or water. On the other hand, a bush pilot unused to speaking with a tower or operating within a busy environment may wander onto a runway at the wrong time and cause problems.
When folks ask me about flying in small planes, such as Cervaise did, I tell them that if the pilot appears to be level-headed and is willing to answer their concerns, if the airplane looks OK (because if it doesn’t look OK to a non-pilot it probably isn’t), and the weather is fine - clear or few clouds, or a very high overcast, not much wind - then fly and have fun because the risk is relatively low.
If it’s raining, or foggy, or there’s a lot of gusty wind, if the pilot seems an asshole or brags about all the dangerous stuff he’s survived, or you just don’t feel comfortable with the situation - then stay on the ground.
Statistics do have some validity. Then can also guide your choices in reducing risk. Small aviation during the day is usually considered safer than motorcycles by most pilots in my area. Small aviation at night carries greater risk. That hasn’t stopped me from flying at night, but I’m a lot pickier about weather, carry certain extra items (multiple flashlights, batteries, handheld, etc.) and otherwise take some actions to reduce that risk.
If you’re in the habit of downing a six pack before getting behind the wheel, have diabetes and heart disease, refuse to wear a seatbelt, driving at least 30mph over the speed limit at all times – you’re more dangerous than a small airplane. If you never drink, you’re in excellent health, always wear a seatbelt, have an airbag in your car, always drive the speed limit, drive defensively – you’re safer in your car than in a small plane.
Now - Johnny LA and his whirlybird… that’s a different story altogether…
And I wouldn’t discount the control factor and having the pilot sitting next to you. I know I’m not the world’s best pilot, but I still feel safer with me at the controls than riding in a jumbo jet even though I know the guy up front in the big plane is better trained and a better pilot than I am. That’s not rational, but it is common. I have also found that some passengers feel more comfortable when, if I do something they don’t understand, they can ask me about it rather than just being left in the dark. Also, my passengers usually know me as a person and have some idea of how cautious/reckless and careful/careless I am - you don’t know anything about the guy in the front of an airliner.