A Little Knowledge....

In learning to fly, a notebook and pen are essential tools.

Once upon a time I worked with a colleague whose professional flying career, culminating as a senior pilot in a prestigious air carrier, had ended upon his reaching retirement age just a couple of years earlier. Not to be plucked from the sky by the rigid dictates of the calendar, this gentleman - I'll call him John - (because that was his name) had built himself a high-performing sport airplane which was the envy of the local general aviation community. A sound but sometimes taciturn fellow who took some getting to know, to be invited to fly with him in the sleek machine was a potential treat desired by many. I dropped judicious hints as frequently as I dared, but months went by with no response. Finally one sunny day, a terse text message came – was I free that afternoon? Perhaps his friend of first choice had cancelled at the last minute, I speculated to myself. But that didn't matter. This was going to be exciting.

As I buckled on the five-point harness a few hours later, my expectation of just relaxing as a joy-riding passenger was somewhat shaken when John handed me a notebook and pen. “You'll be recording data”, he instructed gruffly, “I want to check some figures”. Having installed a couple of new, improved engine and flight instruments, he wanted to study in detail just how his bird was performing after these recent modifications.

While he taxied us towards the runway - I was permitted to touch the controls only later when we were straight and level - I leafed through earlier sections of the notebook. Page after page was filled with impressive detail about previous flights. Pressures, temperatures, weather conditions, weight and balance data, rates of climb and descent achieved, engine performance, fuel figures, notes about passengers, airfields, terrain, and more, all recorded and dated in neat handwriting. A meticulous record of observing and reflecting upon the business of flying. I asked how long he had been paying such close written attention to things aeronautical. “Oh, since my very first flight”, he replied “I have a locker full of those notebooks, all filled up”. He fixed me with a brief gaze and a final, brusque comment: “Always a student pilot!” With that, he returned to his checks, and soon we were airborne for an exhilarating excursion in the sky.

It struck me that John didn't just find flying interesting. He made it interesting. After tens of thousands of hours, over many decades, in all manner of aircraft from fighter jets, to heavy airliners, to the slippery little sport machine, he still took to the air every time with a sense of wonder and fascination, as evidenced by and recorded in those little notebooks.

I haven't seen him in years, but I think about John occasionally when first meeting a new group of students in the classroom who are commencing their “theoretical knowledge” studies towards license or rating issue. There are the usual formalities and pleasantries to be made, of course, administrative tasks and introductions. But as we finally settle down to the business of teaching and learning - always a two-way process, in my experience - I can never help dividing the class in my mind into two different groups: those who have produced notebooks and pens, or their digital equivalent, and those who haven't. I usually address the latter group, sparing their blushes by not naming names, to inform them that before the class has even started they are already behind their colleagues on the learning curve! As often as not, the next day I see notebooks in front of everyone, pens poised. Always a satisfying moment.

The fact is, note-taking is a crucial part of the classroom learning process. Instructors can find some interesting studies on this topic after just few minutes dabbling with a search engine of their choice. Note-taking turns out to be quite a complex and yet under-researched activity. It has been plainly shown that note-taking significantly increases, not just the ability to regurgitate information at examinations, but more important, long-term retention and deeper comprehension of the subject matter at hand. By making the student into an active participant rather than a passive receptor of information, it improves results considerably. Interestingly, this applies even if the student never consults her notes again after the class. Various studies have shown that if you take away a student's notes and tear them up at the end of a class so they can't refer to them again, they will still retain more and better knowledge than their classmates who didn't take any notes. (This has been shown in controlled experiments, by the way: for self-preservation I wouldn't try it with anxious ATPL students close to the exam date). There are many more fascinating results from studies of note-taking. For instance, it is not just important that students take notes, but also how they take notes can have a significant effect on the quality of long-term comprehension. Using a matrix format rather than a linear transcription of the instructor's words, for example, facilitates better and more enduring results.

Instructors should further stay alert not just to how, to also to when students are prompted to take notes. A lecturer speaks at a rate of around 2 to 3 words per second. The average writing speed of a student is barely a sixth of that. So there is a degree of selection to be made by the student as to what to commit to paper or screen. Teachers need to be self-aware of the various prompts they transmit that “this bit is important”, and ensure that those are given at the appropriate point. To encourage students to rework notes later, to highlight, seek further references, are also very profitable assignments for instructors to give. There are many more techniques suggested by scholarly research, and training organizations might usefully include some note-taking tuition as part of their initial course preparation, if not already doing so.

Looking to the other end of the business, it has been argued by some that the advent of multiple-choice answer formats at examinations has reduced the requirement for students to study their material deeply. I'm not of that opinion – in my mind well-constructed multiple-choice tests are at least as valid, and certainly more objective, as the old essay-type examinations in determining the level of a candidate's knowledge. Having said that, every instructor soon distinguishes between those students who are relying solely on endless practice of answering sample questions to ensure a good test result, and others who regard that as a useful enough tool, but who are prepared to work for a deeper fundamental understanding of their chosen craft, pastime, or profession. A key task for instructors is to try to bring as many as they can from the first group into the second. The latter are almost universally active note-takers.

When it comes to the subject matter itself, I sometimes groan internally when confronted with the expression “theoretical knowledge” the official description of the academic component of pilot training. With all due respect to the varied linguistic backgrounds of our masters in EASA, in everyday English the expression “theoretical” can have something of a negative connotation. (“Well, that's all very well in theory...”). Personally I would prefer it to be called “aeronautical knowledge”, which perhaps links the classroom material more intimately with the actual business of flying.

This is where the flying instructor in the cockpit of the actual aircraft (or simulator) plays a key role in integrating the “theoretical”, if we must call it that, with the real world requirements of aviation knowledge. Some excellent instructors I have observed over the years seem to have an effortless ability to relate practical flying skills to the underlying classroom material. In teaching basic manoeuvres, for instance, they might connect the fundamental aerodynamic questions at stake to subtle, almost unobservable movements and responses to control inputs. In doing a routine FREDA check, they might quiz the student on the limitations or peculiarities of the fuel system. They are constantly looking, at safe and appropriate times during flight, for new ways to join in the student's mind the “book-learning” aspect of the activity with its real-world application. The creative possibilities are endless. If the student pilot in turn is taking notes of these details on her or his kneeboard then all the better.

Like my old friend John, they are not content merely to find flying interesting. By a ceaseless linking of “Theory” with “Practice”, instructors on the ground and in the air can actively make it a more profound and fascinating business for their students, and enrich their own job satisfaction at the same time. In turn, students who open themselves up to this approach will find their progress is accelerated, their test results improved, and, if continuing on to an aviation career, their professional prospects enhanced. Solid note-taking skills are just a part (but an important one!) of this lifelong quest to master the arts of the air.

-oOo-

A version of this article was first published in Flight Training News (U.K.)