After this disaster, pilots can’t have secrets

THE story of the Airbus A320 co-pilot Andreas Lubitz, who deliberately flew himself, his crew and 144 passengers into the ground at 430mph — ‘ vaporising’ most of them, say crash experts — is a stark reminder, as if we needed it, of our vulnerability as passengers.

There have been other reports of suicidal pilots crashing planes but none as detailed and graphic as this. Nor have we heard before about a co-pilot locking a pilot-in-command out of the cockpit, ignoring his frantic banging on the door as the airliner sped down to its destruction.

Only one feature of this chilling event is normal. The grumbling of special interest groups who seek to influence our view about what part Lubitz’s mental problems played.

‘Don’t stigmatise depression over Alps crash’ a ‘top doctor’ tells the Observer. A headline adds: ‘Bizarre act is no basis for policy shift.’

We are told: ‘Britain’s most senior psychiatrist ( Professor Simon Wessely) has warned airline authorities to avoid a kneejerk reaction to the crash . . . insisting depression should not lead to a lifetime ban for commercial airline pilots.’

European Union rules say pilots can fly if they are free of depression symptoms and on approved antidepressants, or four weeks after the condition has been resolved.

America’s Federal Aviation Authority says depression sufferers can fly if their condition has been stable for a year under anti-depressants, namely Prozac, Zoloft, Celexa or Lexapro.

Lubitz was known to have taken a six-month rest from his flight training due to depression. This didn’t prevent him eventually qualifying as a pilot. Initially, he was employed as a cabin steward, not a pilot. Might that have been a source of grievance?

When he did get to fly, it was not with Lufthansa but for its cut-price budget offshoot, Germanwings.

FrIENDS said his dream was to fly long-haul for Lufthansa, but this didn’t appear likely. His mental health appeared delicate, but did anyone at Lufthansa know, or care to know? Police who entered his apartment found anti- depressive medication and a note from his neuropsychologist excusing him from work for a period that included the day of the crash, reports The Wall Street Journal. He ignored the advice and reported to work.

The Observer’s ‘top doctor’ Simon Wessely says: ‘Piers Morgan said that it was a disgrace that a man with acute depression was allowed to fly. Well, they are not allowed to fly. There may have been some fault in the procedure that let this happen, but they are not allowed to fly.’

Lubitz did fly. What ‘fault in the procedure’ allowed this to happen? Apparently he was able to conceal his condition from his employers because of laws guaranteeing the confidentiality of medical records.

Mental problems are easier to conceal than physical ailments. Physical screening is more rigorous than mental checks.

The dangers arising from cockpit heart attacks, or strokes, are simpler to assess than the consequences of a pilot’s mind malfunctioning.

People suffering from depression are not by definition potential mass murderers. It’s estimated that only eight cases in the past 40 years have involved suicidal pilots crashing planes containing passengers.

But known, monitored depression isn’t the same as a malady of that kind treated secretly, which seems to have been the case with Lubitz.

The secrecy provided by well-intentioned laws governing medical records is surely a bigger worry than the stigmatisation of depressive suffers.