Sometimes We Suffer For Our Craft: The Performance Course and Generating Resilience

"You know you could have gotten through Pilots Course, right?"

"Maybe." I replied

"I do. I know you could have." - FLTLT Ray Werndly

"I do. I know you could have." The answer to that question I never directly asked myself, and no one else answered for me, or could answer for me. For Ray to say so confidently that, of course, I could have been awarded those coveted Air Force Wings, and that I had the innate potential to, was a strange, uplifting feeling. A re-gluing of the chip back on my shoulder.

I know the reasons I didn't get through. I am grateful for the pilot training I received at BFTS and 2FTS, for the strong airmanship and knowledge foundation that they granted me. I'm happy for the friendships that I made on course, and in the RAAF, ADF, and USAF. And, I'm fortunate for the lifelong passion that the Air Force stoked in me, for aviation, piloting, and aerospace.

Human Ballistics

Ray 'Werners' Werndly has a 29 year career with the Royal Australian Air Force, as an Aircraft Captain (C-130H), as a Flying Instructor (PC-9/A), and has also flown Mach 1+ in the F/A-18A/B.

Ray has spent over 17 years training Air Force pilots to fly, and has observed over 1,200 pilots train in a very high stress environment. In an Air Force where postings usually last three to four years before moving on, and where a flying career usually lasts ten to fifteen years, Ray's focus and time in training pilots is uniquely valuable.

Of those 1,200-odd students that have passed through 2FTS since Ray began instructing, roughly 400 were 'scrubbed' off course at one stage or another. I am one of those 400, and about half of my Advanced Pilots Course #211 coursemates were also scrubbed; slightly higher than the average 30-40% failure rate. I remember Ray as Standards Officer when I was on course, although I never had the pleasure of flying with him. He has an easy-going demeanour, with the sort of humility that comes with immense experience. Ten years since being in the same Squadron as Ray, I was delighted to receive an invitation to attend his Human Ballistics' The Performance Course, which he was running in Melbourne.

The Performance Course

My classmates included seasoned First Officers and Captains from a handful of Australian airlines, each averaging ten to fifteen years of professional flying experience. It was incredible to learn that these aviators all suffered from various degrees of anxiety when performing under observation; specifically, when preparing for and flying simulator check flights (every six months). This condition is colloquially diagnosed as 'Testitis,' 'Checkitis,' and 'Simitis,' and it is real, with the pre-nerves and post-worry of simulator check rides often correlated with lower performance, burn-out, stress, and unhappiness (Demerouti et al, 2018). It is telling how debilitating this syndrome and anxiety can be from a confidence perspective, given the answer to one of the questions Ray asked our course. Given the option, which scenario would we prefer to fly as First Officer:

1. A stormy, turbulent departure, with an engine failure / fire, and an incapacitated Captain; or,
2. A simulator check ride.

All pilots happily opted for the former, with the rationale being that they are confident in their abilities, their training, their proficiency, and the knowledge that they are capable of handling that situation. A sim check flight, on the other hand, is scrutinised from a human performance aspect, and carries potential negative social and peer judgement. As a result, "pilots often deliver performance below their full potential when under assessment."

"If a car just hit me ever so carefully and I break my leg just a little bit, or if I accidentally just fall and break my arm maybe then I don’t have to do my simulator check?" - @PilotMaria

The Performance Course directly addresses this common sub-optimal performance under observation phenomena. It debunks myths at a personal and emotional level, and uses a clear and effective model of the stress-performance curve to improve performance and reduce stress (Yerkes-Dodson Law, for further reading on the relationship between arousal and performance).

• To the left of optimal performance, under-performance can be improved through practice, study, rehearsals, chair-flying, visualisations, and rote learning.
• To the right of optimal performance, these same practices will not improve performance, as they will likely add to stress and pressure.

To the right of optimal performance, pressure needs to be reduced in order to improve performance. The Performance Course helps pilots identify this sort of self-generated stress, and codify personal techniques to reduce them. For some pilots, techniques include less study, and more time with family; taking a total break from study and trusting in themselves that they know the content, procedures, and performance required.

As facilitator, Ray attacked the myth from multiple angles that our self-worth and identification comes from our profession or passion as a pilot. The reason being, knowing that our life, loved ones, and present situation will remain as-is regardless of a simulator / flight outcome, is tremendously grounding and present. This deeper understanding and focus on true contentment, sources of inspiration, life priorities, and admirable qualities, which felt quite emotive and unrelated at the time, crystallised about halfway through the second day for me. It was all about reducing and removing stress by remembering and focusing what is really important to us as individuals, and it is always only health, family, friends, and loved ones. The rest is secondary. It was also about vulnerability, admitting weaknesses and flaws, and being open to criticism.

Practically, I found there to be tremendous value in reminding myself of tangible, actual moments of happiness, and writing them down. Similarly, in listing the qualities I admire in loved ones, like Luana's kindness in always putting others before herself; in Dad being the best dad I could hope for in encouraging adventure and curiosity; and in Mum wearing her heart on her sleeve, and in forever building on her education and life experiences.

Some of the lighter and memorable moments on The Performance Course lay in tapping into Ray's immense experience and deep perspective given the time he has spent in training. Ray isn't a psychologist or academic professor, but a professional pilot. And that helps immensely in connecting with and building rapport and trust from an audience asked to put weakness and vulnerability on the table. From reflecting on the innate differences between females and males on course, with females generally being better at self-reflection and improvement on the performance curve; to explaining the original intent of Morning Quiz as a simulated environmental stress and recall exercise, which has since been bastardised into a social judgement stress; and the power of wearing an Air Force flying suit to a conflict-prone parent-teacher interview, and the lesson in that.

There was one poignant story that Ray told, about a student pilot in the front seat with Ray instructing in the back. After several?failed attempts to flare to land (flaring high and floating), despite having successfully demonstrated the procedure many times in previous flights, Ray asked the student, "Can you land the way I demonstrated to you?"

He replied "I am trying."

Ray responded "We're done 'trying', can you do it, or can you not?"

He replied, "I can."

Ray replied, "OK... I think you can too."

Ray then remained completely silent, and by his own admission had no more instructional tools to offer. But, Ray suspected a breakthrough was likely and imminent. Ray then witnessed the student's focus intensify as he approached the next landing (the student's shoulders tightened). This was a result of him?both approaching his normal flare height, and his desire to walk his talk by flaring lower. That is to say, a play-off occurred between his?startle response (which prompted him to flare high), and his fear of not being good to his word. His desire to walk his talk won out and he delayed the flare to an appropriate moment. A quintessential element of this exchange was that he was unable to project the tension he felt onto Ray or his instruction, as Ray had removed himself from the equation. It was just him against him... and he won. Accordingly, both Ray and the student won.

The lesson here is that the instructor / testing officer / check captain is incidental. The pilot-in-command achieves the task; and we are each in command, every flight. Throughout the two-day course, this self-belief and actualisation was visited many times, from different angles, as a founding principle of performance.

"It is all you." - The Performance Course

Worth It

I attended The Performance Course a week after completing my Flight Review, so I could not apply the gouge directly to that flight. But, my objectives in attending were twofold:

1. Improving performance and reducing anxiety under observation, for future flight reviews and tests.
2. Improving performance and reducing anxiety under observation, for public speaking: an anxiety I developed on pilots course, under the awful Quizzo regime ("Remain Standing...").

In the weeks that followed since attending, I found myself generally more relaxed, confident, and grounded. I put this down to The Performance Course, and in having an experienced facilitator help remind me and reset what is important. It is as applicable to piloting as it is to parenting, which Ray humorously touched on a few times. The longer time that has elapsed since course, the harder I have found it to recall those mantras that relaxed me.

For my recent solo flight, I deliberately stopped studying the night before my flight earlier than I usually would, after completing as much flight planning as was practicable. I didn't over-study, which felt a little uncomfortable, but I reminded myself that I knew what I needed to do, and that I knew the content and knowledge required. And, I flew well.

But it is a learned behaviour, and it requires practice. I more recently presented to some senior Air Force personnel in a squadron briefing room, and within minutes of standing up sweat was running down my forehead and neck, and my thinking tunnelled. I put this down to PQSD, or Post-Quiz Stress Disorder: ever since being called up for morning quiz during flying training and having to stand and recite a bold face item or answer an important training question. Answer wrong, and the Quizzo would sternly instruct 'remain standing,' in front of peers and instructors. In front of this Air Force audience a decade later, the sweats returned to my embarassment! I knew my content back to front, but I let self-imposed pressure get the better of me, rather than taking a breath and reinforcing my self-belief. In hindsight (and for the future), pausing and making a little joke about my physiological response to standing in the squadron briefing room not having changed in a decade, would probably have relieved my tension and helped my audience relate and support me.

Completing the Performance Course with vastly more experienced aviators affirmed the value that Ray and the course offer. I highly recommend, particularly to aircrew at any level of experience, who may suffer or experience some level of degraded performance or anxiety when under observation. To the 30-40% who aren't awarded Wings, The Performance Course may help you dust yourself off and fly again. It took me a long time to fly again after being scrubbed, but I think if I had reflected in the manner that Ray guided us, I would have gotten back into the cockpit sooner. Two days of course for a new life skill: a primer in self-generating resilience.

Epilogue

Ultimately, I was not awarded RAAF Wings. Had I more effectively managed my stress, self-awareness, and time, I might have passed. But what happened, happened. And, as Ray reinforced, I would not trade Wings for the amazing relationships that I have with my family and loved ones. "This wonderful bounty was waiting for me ten years after my stumble at 2FTS," as was my rediscovered love of flying, and my greater passion and respect for the art & science of piloting. After six years in uniform over a decade ago, never have I felt more connected to the Air Force motto than I do now:

Per Ardua ad Astra - Through Adversity to the Stars