Your article (Co-pilot ‘hid illness from airline and colleagues’, 28 March) frustrated and saddened me in its treatment of the investigations into the pilot of flight 4U9525. The portrait this article sketches of Andreas Lubitz is of a devious, “disturbed” madman who somehow concealed his “secret backstory” of struggles with mental illness, and it questions how he had been permitted to fly in a presumably suicidal state.
But depressive episodes, 18-month periods of treatment and “emotional problems” with a partner are not as rare as the Guardian seems to think, and vast numbers of people struggle through such experiences without causing others to lose their lives. I wonder if the Guardian thinks these individuals manage to care for children, administer medicine, drive cars and run countries by “skilfully” convincing the world that they are “well-structured”, all the while just waiting for a “window of opportunity” to do harm.
Indeed, psychological distress often does go unnoticed by those around us – the “he didn’t seem depressed” of an acquaintance of Lubitz tells an all-too-familiar story. And the representation of hidden mental illness as a fully formed explanation of this tragedy, remaining questions concerning only how it was so slyly concealed, feeds into the stigma already surrounding these problems and, paradoxically, makes it harder for sufferers to speak up and ask for help.
Ask why Andreas Lubitz did what he did. Ask if he had unidentified issues and why the help he was given was inadequate. But please do not ask, in such demonising language, why a stressful and important job was entrusted to somebody who had an illness six years ago that was apparently successfully treated.
Emma Van Oss
London
• The safety response to pilot Andreas Lubitz’s actions is focused on ensuring the constant presence of two crew in the cockpit. Whatever the details of this case, it should also remind us that at least as important is the need for proper attention to the mental wellbeing of those entrusted with the care of others.
To cut costs, for example, some airlines rotate crew members across available shifts. The consequence is unfamiliarity among colleagues, even a sense of anomie. In contrast, a close team is more likely to notice if a member is disturbed.
Consideration of such human issues in dealing with staff is associated with better care of the people they serve. Ignoring these matters in favour of logistics can result in severe distress for all, even in tragedy.
Agnes Kocsis
Consultant clinical psychologist, St Mary’s Hospital, London
• Last week’s tragic air crash was, I believe, an extreme event, unlikely to be repeated any time soon. However, the issue of the mental health of pilots has to be tackled imaginatively and sensitively. There are huge disincentives for pilots to seek help for poor mental health. To do so is in many cases career-ending. If a pilot seeks help for even mild depression he or she is immediately grounded until “cured”. That means free of all symptoms and off medication for several months. Stability while on medication will not suffice.
Is it any wonder that they suffer in silence? And I fear that the case of Lubitz will lead to even “tougher” regulation and more disincentives. The fact is that hundreds of thousands of people perform their jobs well, and safely, while undergoing treatment for mental health problems. Depression obviously does not lead inevitably to suicide. Give pilots a break.
Colin Hoskins
Matlock, Derbyshire
• As a former airline pilot, I am saddened but not surprised at the tragic events involving Germanwings in the Alps. Indeed, I am surprised that there have not been more such safety-related incidents in recent years.
The carriers for whom I worked before early retirement paid scant regard to the emotional health of their aircrew and flight-deck crew. They also paid scant regard to the physical health of their pilots and aircrew, flying them to the maximum legal hours allowed by law.
Many of my fellow pilots with whom I flew were frequently fatigued, even exhausted, with a punishing roster of flights, often with minimum rest. The combination of tiredness, continual pressure to achieve safe and on-time performance, often against factors which the pilots couldn’t control, such as weather and serviceability, had a constant effect on individuals. I believe that many of my colleagues were frequently clinically depressed.
None of the carriers for whom I worked ever gave me any psychological tests in the recruitment process. Nor were there any ongoing checks for psychological health or emotional fitness thereafter. The only formal health screening was a six-monthly physical medical check. This was quite stressful in itself, as careers depended upon passing it. Interestingly, there was no coordination with pilots’ GPs, so any issues of depression, alcoholism or other emotional problems were not picked up.
In recent years, airlines have subscribed to teaching and embracing crew resource management, where the principle involves decision-making using the whole aircrew, and human factors, where physical factors are recognised in relation to performance and safety. However, the principles of these worthy theories are often ignored in practice, “behind locked doors” where no one is watching.
Pilots are subject to the same life stresses as any passenger – emotional, financial, marital and so on – which clearly affect performance. Pilots, perhaps more than many other professionals in the postwar era, have seen their professional status and earnings eroded. The growth of low-cost operators has exacerbated this. The airlines know, however, that there will always be a supply of bright-eyed potential pilots seeking this unique vocation.
The travelling public should be aware of the dynamics that currently enable cheap air flights – but also what the likely risks might be.
Gordon Stevenson
London
