Mental health and Flying

The recent tragedy of the crash of the Germanwings Airbus A320 in the Alps raises some interesting questions about air safety and how we can protect ourselves. Some of the answers may be diametrical opposite to what we believe to be Canadian values.

In Canada, in the past few years, there has been an increased public dialogue about at least some of issues related to mental illness. Anyone who can read, use social media or who watches any of the Canadian commercial television broadcasts knows that one out of five Canadians will live with some form of a mental illness during their life time. This means that most of us will at the very least know someone well who lives with a mental illness. In fact we will in all likelihood know numerous people. This knowledge should mean that that (1) we will be more likely supportive when a close friend or family member is experiencing difficulties, (2) that we will be less ashamed to get hep when we need it and (3) that people living with a mental illness will be far less discriminated against than in the past.

On the other hand using the example of the recent crash it would appear that there might be jobs in which people who are struggling with mental health should not be allowed to do, and that some may suggest that we need to do more intrusive monitoring of those who work in those fields. I suspect there is an argument to be made that those who have, as part of their job description, a responsibility to ensure other people's safety need to be held to a higher level of mental health than someone who does not come into contact with the general public. That group might include not only pilots but perhaps as well train engineers, bus drivers and the police. Of course the problem with that argument is that the list quickly becomes too long. Civil rights advocates would, with justification, argue that regular, mandatory mental health examination of sufficient intensity to "catch" those who are hiding problems would a gross violation of human rights.

I don't think there is an easy answer. In hindsight, I suspect that most would agree that that pilot should have been prevented from flying that day, and that whatever measures required, no matter how intrusive,  should have been in place to know that he should not have flown. I think most of us would agree unless of course we were the ones who perhaps once a week had to sit down in front of a stranger and discuss intimate details of our lives before we were allowed to do our jobs. Most of us would agree - but I suspect we would disagree who should pay for such sessions.

As Canadian society continues to develop its awareness of the complexities of both living with a mental illness and supporting those who do, we will need to also develop better mechanisms to deal with the multifaceted legal, social and moral issues that will arise.  Finding the line between protecting the public good and defending individual rights may be one of the harder ones to resolve.

On a side note, the Harper government's response to this tragedy was to immediately establish a new policy stating that there must be two people in the cockpit at all times. This means that when the pilot leaves to get a coffee or to go to the bathroom, another airline employee needs to stay with the other pilot until the first returns.  Which sort of makes sense except that the only people available are the attendants/stewards/or whatever they are called. I am also not too sure how qualified they are to deal with an emergency that might require some flying skills. As well, as their union has suggested, those individuals are already stretched to their limits and if there was an emergency - there would not be enough help for the passengers. It is an interesting band-aid solution that does nothing to resolve the real issue.