Common Sense: Why Older Airplanes Are Safer Than New Ones (But They Are All Incredibly Safe)

Let me start by saying that flying in ANY commercial airplane is incredibly safe. In fact, the inside of a flying commercial airplane is literally and statistically the SAFEST place you can be. No place can be 100% safe. But no place is safer than inside of a plane in flight.

All airplanes are safe compared with, say, your house, in which you are far more likely to die than you are in a plane. You might think a newer plane, with newer technology, might be safer than an older plane. And you might be right, I don't really know. But there is a case to be made that an older model of a given type of aircraft might be a little bit safer, mathematically speaking.

Older planes, logically, have been in flight for a longer time with nothing going horribly wrong. To the extent that they are being properly maintained, the reliability of older planes is literally time tested. Newer planes have not been in the air as long, so they don't yet have a long reliability record. It's not that they aren't effectively as safe as older planes, but rather they are statistically less safe. Up to a point.

There's a term in engineering for the improbability of something going wrong in a piece of technology the longer it's in use. I don't remember what the term is, but if anyone reading this is an engineer or lay person who knows, please leave it in the comments.

Silver Linings

To maintain optimal optimism, I always try to build redundancy and back-up planning into everything I do. I'll explain this by way of example.

Today, I was supposed to have a rehearsal with my 5-piece instrumental surf rock band, BANANA HAMMOCK.* Due to weather, a couple of the musicians involved didn't want to make the trip on sh!tty roads to our rehearsal space, and since I don't like to rehearse without at least an 80% quorum, I made the hard executive decision to cancel practice. For most people, this situation would be a serious bummer, allowing an unacceptable level of pessimism to creep into one's thinking. Because surf rock is an incredible mood booster.

But not me, man! I had not one but two backup plans ready to go, and a partial third waiting in the wings. As many of my readers know, February is February Album Writing Month (FAWM), of which I am a passive participant. With the 2+ hour block of time now granted to me by the absence of surf rocking, I am going to dabble in some songwriting. That's option one. Option two is that I am going to go to the gym. I had been planning to do that before rehearsal anyway, but it was contingent on how efficient I was in prepping the set of surf rock songs at home this afternoon, ahead of practice. My efficiency would determine if my gym workout was long or short, or somewhere in between. Now that I don't have to prep tunes, it can be long. And I can continue to employ and enjoy my new, awesome running shoes.

Every Sunday night, there is an open jam at a place called Funk's Pub in town. I don't always or even often go. I had considered going tonight if my rock juices were not too drained from the high energy surf rocking. Now that my vital fluids will be completely untapped, I know that I can go to Funk's and firehose them all over the patrons of that dainty little sports bar. That's my partial option three.