Individual Differences and Interpersonal Relationships — Page 242, Lesson 388

I want to walk you through a real-world incident that illustrates a concept called risky shift — a psychological phenomenon that has contributed to many aviation incidents. Let's start with the definition: risky shift is the tendency for a group to make more extreme or riskier decisions than any individual member would have made alone. In a cockpit, that means the crew collectively can drift toward a decision that no single pilot would have accepted on their own. Now, here's the example. A large military transport aircraft was conducting an approach to a Canadian airfield in winter. The weather conditions were strictly below the legal minimums — meaning the visibility and cloud base were worse than what the approach procedure allowed. The alternative to landing was a night stop at this airfield, or a diversion to another airfield about 40 minutes flying time away. That diversion airfield had much worse night-stopping facilities and allowances — so the crew had a strong motivation to get in. On the first approach, the captain saw no runway lights at decision height — that's the altitude at which the pilot must decide whether to continue or go around. So the captain correctly executed a missed approach, an overshoot. During that overshoot, the flight engineer reported that he had seen the runway lights as they passed over the threshold — meaning they were already past the runway when the lights became visible. In the discussion that followed, the captain briefed for what's called a split approach. In a split approach, the co-pilot flies the aircraft on instruments only, while the captain handles the visual segment and takes over for the landing. But here's where the risky shift becomes clear: as part of the briefing, the captain told the other pilot not to start the missed approach at decision height. Instead, the co-pilot was to level out at decision height and wait until told to climb. This decision was, in the captain's own words, strictly illegal — it violated the standard operating procedures for a missed approach. The navigator supported this illegal plan by telling the rest of the crew that the ground was level at this stage with no obstructions — providing a false sense of safety. So with the captain, engineer, and navigator all looking out visually, the co-pilot flew the approach down to decision height. At that point, one crew member called 'lights', and a few seconds later the captain saw the runway lights below him. He took control, executed a rapid descent, and made a firm landing. The aircraft only stopped before the end of the runway by using full reverse thrust. While taxiing back, the crew could see from the tyre marks in the snow that they had touched down halfway along the runway — meaning they had far less landing distance available than the aircraft required. They were extremely lucky. This is a textbook example of risky shift in action. No single crew member would have accepted that level of risk alone, but in the group — with the captain leading, the navigator rationalising, and the engineer supporting — the collective decision became far more dangerous than any individual would have chosen. The pressure to avoid an inconvenient diversion, combined with group dynamics, overrode the legal minimums and sound judgment.