Anyone paying attention to the news the past couple of weeks has probably concluded that there’s “something going on” with aviation right now. This year has already seen two high-profile wrecks in Philadelphia and Washington, D.C., and a miraculously non-fatal accident in Toronto. The same people who’ve caught a whiff of “something going on” have seen a series of potential culprits crop up: Boeing, diversity, equity, and inclusion policies, the Department of Government Efficiency, and the Federal Aviation Administration, to name a few. Simply put, however, these are bad-faith scapegoats: something is not going on.
What no one seems to observe is that strapping into an oversized metal straw and hurtling through the stratosphere doesn’t require malicious conspiracy or criminal negligence to be dangerous. One need only look at American pop culture to see the havoc aviation accidents have wreaked over the decades: Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, Jim Croce, Aaliyah, Roberto Clemente, Kobe Bryant, Roy Halladay, and John F. Kennedy Jr. all died in aviation wrecks. Flying is dangerous for a species that can’t fly.
There are certainly problems in American aviation, and they should be fixed. The FAA must function more efficiently. Boeing must impose rigorous quality control. DEI initiatives shouldn’t apply to pilot selection. None of these, however, can make flying safe. Much like cars, planes will continue to crash so long as we use them. It’s a risk passengers knowingly take.
The real “something going on” has less to do with aviation and more to do with the American willingness to play an increasingly tone-deaf blame game. It blew this whole plane crash problem out of proportion in hours. Before the bodies from the Washington, D.C., collision were out of the Potomac River and identified, high-profile social media accounts on the left (Dreamleaf) and right (DC Draino) began debating whether it was President Donald Trump who was to blame for the ordeal or DEI policies.
The too-common reaction of self-flagellatory public grandstanding has also got to go. There were 67 victims of the Washington, D.C., collision, and none among them were white pilots DEI-ed out of a job, or recently-fired FAA airport safety personnel. Members of the chronically online commentariat class perpetually insinuate otherwise during their performative sackcloth-and-ashes routines about Elon Musk or women in the military. It’s an insult to those who perished when spectators immediately begin jockeying for the position atop their graves to deliver an emotionally-charged policy debate.
According to the National Transportation Safety Board database, the United States sees more than 1,000 aviation accidents every year, and with 99 in two months, we’ve actually had fewer than expected at this point in the year, albeit with increased fatalities. To be precise, the degree of “something going on” is fewer planes crashing — in fact, the fewest ever fatal crashes on record — but with higher than average total deaths due to the 67 fatalities from the DC passenger airliner. While these are tragedies, the fact that planes crash and that plane crashes can kill varying amounts of people is not shocking. It is a particularly ugly reminder that a mildly dangerous activity is, in fact, mildly dangerous, but it shouldn’t be enough to whip the socialverse into a panic about flying. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what this ordeal is: panic. So long as it leverages tragedies to shame people who have nothing to do with the wreck, it’s not a particularly moral panic, either.
Don’t fall for this panic. Support FAA reforms, better quality control, and cuts to counter-productive programs. Have policy debates at the proper time in the proper place. But recognize that nothing you can do will ever make flying safe. On our end, the real answer is to step away from the blame game and grandstanding. Instead, opt for sorrow and mourn the lives lost and families broken. If we can’t give the victims that, we’ve got a bigger tragedy on our hands.
Lewis Thune is a junior studying politics.
