I never used to be scared of flying as a child. I absolutely relished it. I’d have lived in an airport like Tom Hanks in The Terminal if they let me. I’d have willingly circled airports for hours before landing. I loved every second of it.
But we get more scared as we get older, don’t we? You’ve got more to lose, more years behind you, more of your fleshy, human stock invested in planet earth.
Plus, adults have a greater understanding of the feeling of pain and the imminence of death. And, worst of all, we can read the news, which means we’re all very aware of the Boeing planes that keep malfunctioning.
Last week, an Air India flight from Ahmedabad Airport to London Gatwick crashed, killing 229 passengers and 12 crew members. There was only one survivor, Vishwash Kumar Ramesh, who is now able to articulate the uniquely horrifying experience of being involved in a deadly plane crash, putting everyone’s worst nightmare into words. Haunting, unforgettable words. The kind of words that ring around your head when the seatbelt sign goes on.
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Boeing have offered their “deepest condolences” to the loved ones of everyone onboard and is providing “full support” to India’s Aircraft Accident Investigation Bureau, who are working to find out what happened on the flight.
But then, on Sunday, another Boeing 787 Dreamliner from Heathrow to Chennai was forced to return to Heathrow shortly after take-off due to a “technical issue”. British Airways says it was a “technical precaution”, but that doesn’t stop it being scary. I’d be willing to bet good money the passengers were white-knuckling those armrests as the plane landed back on the tarmac at Heathrow.
Before these two incidents, the Boeing 787 Dreamliner had an “exemplary” safety record. But other Boeings have a history of issues. The Boeing 737 Max was associated with deadly crashes in Indonesia and Ethiopia in 2018 and 2019 respectively, killing hundreds of people. A software fault was detected and the model was grounded worldwide for 18 months.
In January 2024, an Alaska Airlines flight scheduled from Portland to Ontario suffered a major scare when a door plug on the Boeing 737 Max 9 blew out, causing uncontrolled decompression of the aircraft which sucked passengers’ personal items out of the hole in the plane. Some poor guy was sitting next to the hole. That’s quite the mental image.
And therein lies the problem with these plane issues. Even though thousands of other flights take place without issue every day, you can’t forget a bad plane story. For instance: There’s not been a single plane journey since 2015 where I haven’t thought about the Germanwings pilot who drove his plane into the French Alps, killing himself and everyone on board. It is incredibly unlikely to ever happen again — numerous airlines changed their rules following the tragedy to ensure two crew are always in the cockpit — but once something like that sticks in your head, good luck getting it out.
Plus, plane crashes feel basically unsurvivable. There are exceptions, of course, but if you’re on a plane that’s about to go down and go down hard, you’d be well in your right to think, “Oh s***, I’m going to die.” You probably know many people who have escaped car crashes with minor scratches. Plane crashes, despite planes being “the safest form of transport”, are simply incomparable.
The Germanwings incident happened ten years ago and I still think about it constantly. Now, bad plane stories are becoming so concerningly frequent that there’s literally no time to forget them. They’re stored in our short-term memory. They don’t require any dredging up. They’re horribly, perfectly accessible. So, for every “think of the sky like jelly” someone tries to soothe me with, I have a very real trump card: think of the Air India crash. Think of Alaska Airlines. Think of Ethiopia. And that’s just Boeing. Airbus, the other main manufacturer of commercial aircraft, has had its fair share of issues too, with numerous fatal crashes (and many non-fatal ones, as well).
My once irrational fear feels as though it has become fully rational. Every thought I previously used to calm myself is coming apart at the seams. More likely to die in a car, can fly safely with one engine, pilots are retested every six months, flights happen every day, etc. It’s all becoming useless to me.
I’ll still fly, of course. When I’m earthbound and booking tickets, I’m calm — excited, even. It’s not until I’m locked in a metal tube in the sky surrounded by strangers and microwave meals that I start to freak out. But god, am I about to become unbearable: gripping onto those armrests a little tighter, saying my prayers a little louder, watching the crew like a hawk. Fellow passengers, I’m sorry. Feel free to switch seats.
Maddy Mussen is a London Standard columnist
