The Philosophy of Luck

By Stephen Coonts
(From “Approach” Magazine, July- August 1995)

My father, a naval officer in World War II, used to tell me. “You make your own luck.” I think, in one sense, he was right. That is the kernel of truth Lt. Col. Haldane states in “The Intruders”: “The thing we call luck is merely professionalism and attention to detail; it’s your awareness of everything that is going on around you; it’s how well you know and understand your airplane and your own limitations. Luck is the sum total of your abilities as an aviator. If you think your luck is running low, you’d better get busy and make some more. Work harder. Pay more attention. Study your NATOPS (Air Force-1, the flight manual) more. Do better preflights.”

That’s partly true. You’ll certainly minimize your problems, but there’s a limit to how much luck you can make. In “The Intruders”, Jake wrestles with the whole concept of luck. People tell him he is lucky to have so narrowly escaped disaster, yet he feels unlucky that he got so close to the edge. Luck is a banana peel, a slippery proposition. Are we unlucky because we had an accident, or lucky that it wasn’t worse? Clearly, the perspective from which we view an event has a huge effect on its psychological import to us. This is the point that one of the characters in “The Intruders” makes to Jake referring to investments: “There’s no such thing as bad news. Whether an event is good or bad depends on where you’ve got your money.”

For example, statisticians might tell us there is a probability that the fleet will experience one cold cat shot (cold cat shot – an unsuccessful attempt at launching an aircraft from an aircraft carrier) this year. We all breathe a sigh of relief – only one. Yet the pilot it happens to will come face-to-face with absolute catastrophe, a disaster of the first order of magnitude. One cold cat shot a year in the fleet is a statistic, but one cold cat shot happening to you is a major event in your life – perhaps the major event – a crisis you may not survive.

I never thought much of the old saw, “I’d rather be lucky than good.” I think the good are lucky. Not the morally good, but the professionally good. There is just no substitute for sound, thorough preparation to avoid or cope with foreseeable misfortune. People who drive straddling the center line can get around a few curves, but sooner or later, they’re going to meet a Kenworth coming the other way. That’s not predictable, it’s inevitable.

Luck, Fate and the Almighty

A recent discussion on an aviation message board brought up the subject of an aircraft accident where the two pilots on board were killed on impact. The message board is composed primarily of General Aviation pilots who fly for pleasure so deaths in the GA community come hard for those who haven't been around flying for very long.

The subject of learning from one's own mistakes (experience) and the mistakes of others (wisdom) as applied to aviation came up. This was followed by talk about luck and fate. I mentioned both the greatest aviation book ever written, "Fate is the Hunter" by Ernest K. Gann, and the famous Stephen Coonts article for the Naval Aviation's "Approach" magazine titled "The Philosophy of Luck".

A member responded with this:

This is a subject that has kept my attention all my life and my 'lessons' have taught me to believe what we're calling "luck" is a Higher Power acting in our behalf.

Where skill ends and luck/God/fate begin I have yet to understand despite it being my life study. Assume God is trying to test us with crisis. We can make ourselves more likely to pass the test by improving our skills, knowledge, experience, etc. and at the same time we can never overcome God's will if it's meant to be our time, whether that time is being the hero of the day (Sullenberger) or the unfortunate statistic (too many to name).

If skill and experience were the final answers we'd still be reading the exploits of Mr. Steve Fossett today. If God's will didn't matter, I wouldn't be sitting here typing but would have a marker in a cemetery somewhere long ago.

In response, I posted this: A most perplexing question and one I've pondered almost daily since my teens.

As near as I can figure it is something like this. There are many references in the Bible to a Father/Son relationship between the Almighty and mankind. A Father may give his son a hammer and hope he becomes a carpenter. He may even instruct his son, but he can't control whether the son listens or not, learns or not or chooses to become a carpenter.

While the Almighty certainly has the power to make his "son" a carpenter, the gift of free moral agency is a clear sign this will not be done. The choice remains ours.

Although we may have the deepest faith in the Lord, will the Almighty step in and save us if we choose to take a "leap of faith" off a 20-story buiding? It is certainly within the Lord's power,
but given the above, the choice to leap seems to ours. The New Testament passage Luke 4:12 should be remembered before taking that leap.

Now we come to flying. Put into religious terms, Coonts' article is saying we shouldn't put the Almighty to the test by our own negligence or foolishness. Do you think a pilot is wise, responsible or pious if they go scud-running and say "The Lord will protect me?" Wouldn't this, in fact, be disrespectful of both the Lord and the gifts given to mankind?

The Lord gave every human being a brain. My understanding of this gift is that we are each expected to use it. While I cannot possibly fathom why the Lord has done this or why the Lord does anything, what I can fathom is how best to use the gifts I am given. Stephen Coonts' article, to me, states the same reasoning. It is our choice to fly. We should choose to fly wisely.