CHIRP Report 8, which is about divided attention — Page 319, Lesson 513

I want to walk you through three real-world CHIRP reports that illustrate how human performance limitations can affect flight crew in the cockpit. These are confidential reports submitted by pilots, and each one highlights a different psychological trap we need to understand and guard against. Let's start with CHIRP Report 8, which is about divided attention. The pilot describes a nice day with no weather problems and a fully serviceable aircraft. On the previous sector, during rotation, they noticed an amber leading edge flap warning light flash on for a second. The pilot explains that this is normally caused by a slightly misaligned proximity switch — so it's a known, minor fault, not a critical failure. On the next take-off, with the First Officer flying, the pilot says they watched the flap warning light carefully for a recurrence of the fault. That's the key: their attention was fixated on that one light. After rotation, the First Officer called for "gear up," and the pilot reached for the Flap Lever instead of the gear lever. The First Officer called out, the pilot realised what they were doing, and slipped the Flap Lever back into the detent — the notch that holds the lever in position. They thanked the First Officer and their lucky stars, and vowed never again to allow minor fault diagnosis to distract them from the task in hand. So what's the lesson here? Divided attention means your brain can only focus on one demanding task at a time. When the pilot concentrated on watching for that amber light, they lost awareness of the primary flight task — selecting gear up after take-off. They almost selected flaps up instead, which could have caused a loss of lift and a stall. The report shows how a minor distraction, even one you think you're managing, can pull your attention away from critical actions. Now let's move to CHIRP Report 9, which is about expectation. The pilot says they were right on departure time, so they glanced at the fuel gauges, "saw" what they expected to see, and signed the Tech Log and Ships Papers. Notice the quotation marks around "saw" — that's deliberate. The pilot didn't actually see the correct reading; they saw what their brain expected to see. At the top of the climb, a fuel check revealed a large discrepancy. A check of the Tech Log showed that the pilot had signed for 6000 kg, although the Ships Papers showed 8000 kg as requested. So there was a 2000 kg difference — a significant fuel shortfall. The pilot reduced to economy cruise speed, and a detailed fuel check showed they could still reach destination 'A' with fuel to divert to 'B' plus reserve. The weather at both airports was improving, and ATC reported no delays into 'A', so the pilot decided to continue. They arrived on stand at 'A' with diversion and reserve fuel plus about 130 kg — so they made it, but with very little margin. The trap here is expectation bias. When you're under time pressure — right on departure time — your brain takes shortcuts. You glance at the fuel gauges, your mind expects to see the figure you requested, and you literally "see" that figure even if the gauge shows something different. You then sign documents confirming that incorrect figure. This is why we have cross-check procedures: you must verify what you actually see, not what you expect to see. The pilot was lucky that the fuel discrepancy was caught early and that conditions allowed a safe continuation, but the margin was razor-thin. These two reports together show how our own minds can betray us — through divided attention and through expectation. Both are normal human tendencies, but in the cockpit, they can be deadly if we don't recognise and manage them.