The Hard Truth About Malaysia 370

Anxiety over the flight’s mysterious fate must not lead to potentially risky new safety rules

Modern aviation has become perhaps the safest complex system ever devised. Each day, 100,000 flights take off and land with prosaic regularity. Accidents are so rare that, almost by definition, they mean something unprecedented has happened.

The unexplained disappearance of Malaysia Airlines Flight 370 two years ago—with all 239 people aboard presumed dead—is by any definition unprecedented. As such, it makes a poor basis for dramatic changes in public policy. Modern planes are so safe that adding yet more rules in response to a yet-unexplained tragedy could make things worse.

Consider proposals to mandate tamper-proof transponders. That sounds prudent: Someone aboard Flight 370 evidently switched off the plane’s communications systems, taking it off the grid. But pilots may have perfectly valid reasons for turning a transponder off, such as recovering from a malfunction or preventing overheating. The risks of tamper-proofing cockpit equipment outweigh the benefits.

Likewise, the United Nations wants to track aircraft more frequently and in greater detail. Again, this sounds like a no-brainer. Yet planes are already thoroughly tracked. And a group studying the idea for the UN found that the additional requirements could in some cases create new risks and impose an “unrealistic operational burden.” Not to mention the expense.

In the age of the drone, some suggest, why not eliminate human pilots altogether? Even overlooking the cost and complexity of that, the alarming rate at which military drones— to say nothing of civilian counterparts—crash in much less demanding environments should give pause. Pilots have solved many more problems in-flight than they’ve caused.

Some new technology may in fact be helpful in preventing disasters. Aerospace companies are working on gear that could wrest control from a pilot in times of distress. The U.S. military is working on robot co-pilots. These are promising endeavors, worthy of more study and investment. Yet they, too, risk unintended consequences, including malicious hacking, conflicting lines of authority, and well-intentioned mistakes.

Following the Sept. 11 attacks, a consensus emerged that cockpit doors should be reinforced and fitted with elaborate locks. This was an eminently sensible idea. Then last year, a pilot named Andreas Lubitz boarded Germanwings Flight 9525. When his captain left the cockpit, Lubitz locked the door, took the controls, and guided the plane into the French Alps, killing himself and 149 others. On the voice recorder, his panicked colleagues could be heard in the background smashing against the reinforced door, again and again, in a futile attempt to stop him.

It may be that the safest thing to do in response to Malaysia Flight 370 is something that almost defies human intuition: nothing at all.