Target Fixation

In 1971, I was a lieutenant with a new set of pilot wings and learning how to fly airplanes in a ground-attack mode. In other words, I was learning how to bomb and strafe things.

One day on the gunnery range, my scores were poor. So, I decided to concentrate more on hitting the target. On one particular run, I was focused entirely on the target. What I failed to notice was how big the target was getting in the windscreen and how rapidly it was approaching: Target Fixation.

Fortunately, I had enough airspeed to pull the 7 G’s necessary to avoid contact with the ground. My wingman reported seeing the dust and debris swept off the desert floor as my tail nearly scraped across it.

I went on to learn that if I flew the aircraft at the designated airspeed and on the specified dive angle and at the correct altitude with the proper aim at the time of release, the bomb would impact the target as a consequence.

It may seem like there is a big difference between life in the cockpit and life in general, but both work very much on the same principles.

How many times do people pursue success or happiness or any specific result: to make it the objective or target of their lives only to crash in the process?

Perhaps we need to take a lesson from Zen: the analogy of the archer. In western thought, the purpose of archery is to hit the target. Any means will do. Results matter.

In alternative thought, the purpose of archery is to hold the perfect bow perfectly, fit the perfect arrow to the string perfectly, draw the bow perfectly, hold one’s breath perfectly, aim perfectly and then release perfectly.

This is the equivalent of flying the aircraft with precision.

Once the arrow is in flight, or the bomb is released, you no longer have control over it. It will hit the target as a consequence of the means.

Pilots are not the only ones who can suffer from target fixation.

?

?

?

?

?

?