Lies the Odds Tell
Day one of pilot training (Undergraduate Pilot Training or UPT as we called it in the Air Force) held many formative, memorable, and entertaining moments for me. I looked around at engineers, airline pilots, and former fighter navigators and realized for the first time I was not the only one ‘born for this’. Pictures of the planes we’ve dreamt of flying for most of our lives teased us on the dreary walls of the flight room. On that day we also received our first of many questions from our instructor cadre: who wants to be a fighter pilot?
My classmates—29 stellar people—and I looked at each other, wondering who’d put their vulnerability on the line first. At that time, we all knew only about 5%, or 1-2 of the 30 incredible people in this room, might be fortunate enough to have the opportunity to fly a fighter aircraft; and the only thing that stood between each of us and that success was each other. We also knew that to get into one of those cockpits, we needed to be truly collaborative and humble in accepting that if it didn’t happen, then it wasn’t meant to happen. But in that moment, the instructor pilots or IPs asked us to physically put our dreams against the reality of the odds. And in that moment, nearly all of us raised our hands. So, there we had it; a best 2 out of 28 chance to fly fighters. Terrible odds by any stretch of the imagination.
However, a peculiar thing happened as time went on and we began flying. Though the instructors never again asked us to ‘show our hand’ as it were, through conversation I discovered that people slowly withdrew themselves out of the running to fly fighter aircraft. Some, after flying aerobatic missions, discovered they hated aerobatics. Others decided their passion was flying airplanes that would give them a greater opportunity to travel and see the world. And still others found pulling Gs (high gravity maneuvers) painful; I fell into this category. We each took stock of the cons, compared them to the pros, and decided whether they were worth the dream. I stuck with fighters, while others found better for themselves in different airframes. The numbers dwindled quickly from the original 28, down to six of us who still wanted to fly fighters after the initial phase of training. Those same six pilot trainees went on to the fighter training track, and all of us eventually flew fighter aircraft.
Having witnessed this process, I often think back to all the words of caution I got before UPT. People said, “…careful pursuing fighters, only ‘x’ number get them,” advice that made me look at my peers and think I had 28 competitors instead of 28 friends. To be frank, we were all reacting to previous pressures, influences, and advice, instead of training exclusively to be the best pilots we could be.
All these variables played a role in sorting individuals where they ultimately needed or wanted to be, rather than acting as a screen of talent; by virtue of training with the greatest air force in the world, we were all skilled aviators. So, in reality, I was never competing against 28 other students. At MOST, I was competing against five other students; and in reality…none of us were competing at all. The odds, then, of flying fighters was never one of 28. It was always one of one; me competing against me.
All that anxiety. All the pressure. All the prestige weighed me down under the force of chance. This precluded me from enjoying my training as much as I could have. I wasn’t flying to enjoy flying, or even to be a safe and effective pilot. I was flying to beat the odds. It was purely a competition.
Since this lesson dawned on me, I’ve preached non-stop to my mentees that they should disregard the odds; after all, they lie. Do not dare refuse to do a thing because of the odds. Do the thing you’ve desired and prepared to do. If you desire a thing, you will likely apply the necessary passion and effort to properly prepare. If you prepare properly, you have satisfied the only variable that matters.
The other variables may be beyond your control but ultimately work in your favor. A number of people you think you’re competing against may show up without real devotion or passion and then shy away from the work. Some will find out they chose the wrong pursuit, and others may simply lack the drive to put in the full effort. You will then find yourself competing only against other passionate and prepared people—people you shouldn’t compete with at all. Those are the individuals you should lean on who share a mutual enjoyment of a common desire. Bond in that commonality and find fun in the challenge you are all undertaking.
The collaborative nature of those relationships will yield a better version of yourself, one who will likely have a more enjoyable time, and will probably beat the odds.