I have. I’m trying to remember where. Yes, commercial airplanes are safer than interstate driving.
As someone mentioned, general aviation isn’t nearly as safe as commercial air travel. I don’t know how it compares to interstate driving, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it’s more dangerous, minute per minute, or possibly even mile per mile.
For anecdotes – yeah, it’s true that most incidents don’t lead to crashes. I have been on a 747 that had an engine catch on fire. My dad was on a smaller jet whose landing gear didn’t descend. We both went through emergency stuff. No one was killed in either incident. (A couple of people got minor scrapes taking the slides down the 747.)
Driving kills about 1.5x10[sup]-8[/sup] per passenger-mile. Flying is 2x10[sup]-11[/sup]. The Shuttle was about 5x10[sup]-9[/sup]. So, not as good as flying, but better than driving. Of course, most people don’t drive 3 million miles.
The Shuttle+ISS combo gets within an order of magnitude of flying safety (2x10[sup]-10[/sup] deaths/passenger-mi) if you stay for 6 months.
Statistically, there are exponentially fewer odds of dying in a plane crash than driving a car, per mile (not sure if a study has ever compared travel HOURS however). The difference is 3 things:
If something goes wrong with a car, if the driver, you have much more control of your fate than as a helpless passenger in an airplane. Maybe a plane in the hands of a pilot is still safer than a car in the hands of driver, but given the choice of how to die, I think most would take the path where they had the chance to control the outcomes themselves. Then again would you rather control a travelling elephant or ride in a rickshaw?
If there is indeed a auto collision you have a high chance of survival; 35,000 feet in the air and the plane explodes, you are pretty much fucked.
The thought of the spectacular horror of dying in a plane crash far outweighs that of a car crash for most people (see . . . 9/11) . . ,thus while statistically way smaller, the thought of dying is a plane crash haunts most people more than that of a car crash .As a matter of fact IMO the UNLIKEINESS of dying in a plane crash makes the thought of it even more horrifying in some strange way (I’m glad I’m not THAT guy! OR look at how many Americans dies of Ebola a few years ago v the Flu—what got all the headlines?)
OP here. Some interesting responses. One thing that I think bears mentioning is that statistics, can in fact, deceive. For example, on CBS recently “60 Minutes” did a report on a regional air carrier…Allegiant Air. To summarize, they reported that the airline had numerous incidents both on the ground and in the air, the apparent result of lax maintenance procedures. There were, to quote the report, over “100 serious mechanical incidents, flight control malfunctions, hydraulic leaks and aborted take-offs.”
Yet in spite of all of these incidents, Allegiant Air did not have a single fatality on one of its flights for the period examined, which was from January 1, 2016 to October 31, 2017. Therefore, statistically, Allegiant had a perfect record of no flight-related fatalities. Yet were these people flying safe? I would say the answer is no. In many cases their lives in fact may have been in serious danger.
Similarly, the recent tragedy involving Southwest Airlines comes to mind where a woman was killed when an engine part shattered a window, and thus she was partially sucked out of the plane. It’s obvious that her life was in danger as the plane traversed the skies, she just wasn’t aware of it. Not to mention that if that plane had had a previous flight that day–as Southwest planes often do–passengers on those flights may have been unwittingly in danger as well, but were lucky because the engine part held out during those flights.
The whole point being that statistics–as is often the case in sports–do not necessarily tell the whole story. I have flown often in my life, mostly because of my job. I had only one situation that was alarming…one plane had a sudden drop in altitude while approaching Miami, FL. We all arrived safely, but it was a scary moment.
Alive, yes, but it also makes me wonder how many times—over the hundreds of thousands of miles I flew—might I have been at risk, and simply not known?
They certainly can deceive people. For example, you’ve been deceived into thinking that you understand them. Yet if you did understand the statistics and probability, you’d have answered your own question. I’m not trying to be flippant, but I’m not the first in this thread to suggest that you don’t “know the stats” the way you think you do.
I think you’re conflating risk/danger with things you find frightening. They’re not the same thing. It’s not clear how you define “flying safe,” but clearly those people flew safely between the dates in question.
I agree that Allegiant’s maintenance issues are troubling, but flying on their planes during the period covered by the report was still considerably safer than driving.
No; that’s not obvious at all. Her life wasn’t in any more danger than that of any other window-seat passenger on that side of the plane. You seem to say that she was a dead woman flying. But debris knocking out a window like that is a freak occurrence. Her death was not predictable. She wasn’t doomed or somehow fated to die.
Why are you drawing the “unwittingly in danger” line at flights on the same plane on the same day? Why weren’t passengers on the same plane on the previous day also “unwittingly in danger?” What about passengers from the previous week?
For events as rare as airplane crashes, statistics don’t tell the whole story—they tell the only story.
You were at risk every time you flew, whether you knew it or not. It’s just that the risk was very, very low. There’s no such thing as a risk-free decision. You can choose the option with the least risk, but you can never choose a risk-free option. They don’t exist.
And many times, when something goes wrong on an airplane, it’s while it’s landed. Those stupid pilot lights that come up and what’s wonky is the light, not the car? Turns out planes have them too!
So safe that even if you use the arbitrary definition of unsafe used in the OP of “chances of being killed by something that was completely beyond my control, that I was unable to prevent or recover from”. It would still be safer than driving. A large percentage of car accidents (maybe most deadly ones?) definitely fall into that category.
I think that comparing risks in this way serves no purpose. It is the exposure to risk that matters. I drive my car every day and for the most part have avoided injury. I fly less than once a year and have also avoided injury. It follows logically that I am far more likely to suffer an injury on the road than in the air, and I am confident that this logic can be extended to the whole population.
In fact, of course, the comparison is futile. For most journeys flying is not an option, and for some journeys, driving is not a realistic option.
We are all going to die eventually; cutting down on the Big Macks is probably more likely to extend your life than changing your mode of travel.
Paul Walker, James Dean, and Diana were all highly notable car crashes, with significant coincidences to their deaths. Off the top of my head, Patton, Left Eye Lopez, Cliff Burton, and Duane Allman all seem to be celebrities in their own right. I’d wager Google would turn up a few (hundred) more.
This train of thought might make sense … if only air travel has close calls and automobile travel never does! I can attest that close calls occur in automobiles — indeed the fact I’m still alive makes me a believer in “quantum immortality.”
As for fear of dying, I have a friend whose answer was “Relax! You’ve already taken a fatal dose.”
It’s mostly been covered, but I’ll briefly address this. We have some professional pilots on the boards. I’m one of them, and I think my colleagues will agree that most of the time passengers perceive a “sudden drop” or terrible turbulence or something, it’s almost always within the safety tolerance of the plane and not alarming to the pilots.
Can’t tell you how many times I’ve had people tell me they were on a plane that “banked 90 degrees!” or “slammed on the brakes and barely stopped!” or “dropped a thousand feet in a second!” That’s almost never the case. It’s just that you have a small window facing sideways and no way to interpret the plane’s movement other than body feel, which is extremely deceptive.
Wind shear on takeoff and landing can feel dramatic, and can be a safety issue. But much of the time pilots have warning beforehand and reports from previous aircraft about what to expect and severity. We also have strictly defined limits to what constitutes a “stable approach” and will go around if things even begin to go bad.
In all the time I’ve been flying I’ve had the plane actually do something I consider extreme perhaps twice. And even then it was momentary and not a big deal. Turbulence and such may seem alarming (and I grant you it’s uncomfortable and a nuisance), but very rarely a true safety issue.
Which is really the point. The only way that is makes sense to compare flying to driving is if one has an option between driving and flying between the same two points. Adding the Space Shuttle in the mix is like comparing apples to elephants.
Someone else made these two points already. They are wrong, and I explained why already.
How can this be relevant? I want to know the relative risks of two options for covering the same distance. Nobody chooses between 4 hours in a car vs. 4 hours in a plane.
You’re never going to get this study published in a peer-reviewed journal.
Not just “most of the time” - more like “virtually all of the time.” Turbulence can throw unbelted passengers around the cabin, and the plane itself is absolutely fine. Scary as hell no doubt, but as long as you’re wearing your seat belt your risk is low.
This speaks to my annoyance, which is related to abrupt control inputs by the pilots. The best ones make gradual control inputs, as if they were a chauffeur doing their professional best to give you a smooth ride while you spread Grey Poupon on your sandwich. OTOH, the worst ones are wanna-be fighter pilots, and they make you wonder if you’re dodging traffic with their snap rolls and violent pitch changes. Particularly unsettling is when we’re decelerating after touchdown, and suddenly they stomp much harder on the brakes, making me wonder if there’s a runway incursion up ahead.
Your lack of control may make it feel unsafe, but that doesn’t mean you are unsafe. On a terrible awful no good very bad day, yes, you get something like AF447, where a weird confluence of a relatively minor hardware malfunction, confusingly-designed controls, and a poorly-communicating flight crew results in the deaths of everyone on board. But the stats you purport to believe in show that this sort of incident is extremely rare. Most of the time there’s no problem whatsoever. And on those extremely rare occasions when something does go wrong, the outcome is almost always much better than AF447. As Cracked points out, about 90% of people involved in plane crashes survive them:
This should tell you something about the margin of safety built into commercial aviation. Think of an aviation disaster as being like winning the world’s shittiest lottery: you pick all six numbers correctly, you die. Got sloppy maintenance? That locks in one number, but you still need to pick five other numbers correctly to die. Sloppy piloting? That locks in one more number, but you still need to pick four other numbers correctly to die. Thunderstorms in the area when you’re on final approach? That locks in a third number, but you’ll still need to pick three other numbers correctly to die. Yes, crappy maintenance on Allegiant Air must have increased the risk of a major disaster. How much did it increase it? Probably just a bit.
Allegiant has 100 aircraft. Suppose each aircraft flies once per day (some will fly more often, and some will be grounded, but let’s just go with one flight per day per plane). The period described above is about 660 days; 100 flights per day means that Allegiant flew 66,000 flights.
With no crashes.
You do not get through 66,000 flights without crashing if there’s actually a “serious danger” somewhere in your fleet. Yes, Allegiant’s passengers were arguably at greater risk than the passengers on some other airline. But that’s like arguing that I’m more likely to win the lottery if I only have to choose five numbers instead of six: it’s still crazy-low odds.