Personal, subjective approaches to affect safety emphasize addressing self-preservation, professional pride and concern for public and other workers’ well-being. Another approach could be instilling a respect for aviation objects or equipment used by worker groups; namely adopting a Zen Buddhist reverence for aircraft.

"Round the Bend," a 1951 novel by Nevil Shute (1899-1960), pays homage to a mystical aircraft ground engineer (mechanic). The story is about a struggling English pilot/owner, Tom Cutter, and his small airline operating from Bahrain and the relationships with his first-rate, ascetic Eurasian chief mechanic, Connie. Connie has a special intuitive understanding of the aircraft he works on — all to the increased reliability and safety of the airline’s operations. Others in the polyglot company eventually grow in self-development from Connie’s caring, reverent, positive example. The book title refers to the phrase, now out of vogue, of someone gone too far, losing their origins, in this case gone native to be exact.

Years back, I acquired an interest in Nevil Shute whose aviation background (airship & aircraft designer) led him to write a few fictional and non-fictional aviation works, "Slide Rule" and "No Highway." His other books, include "A Town Called Alice" and "Requiem for a Wren."

My aviation career began as an aircraft mechanic and I’ve never lost that foundation and pride, although I’ve acquired other experiences/qualifications in flight operations, training, regulations, security, engineering design, human factors (HF), accident investigation, and safety. I’ve never come across an aviation novel that focuses more on an aircraft mechanic’s plight or gives personal insights to maintenance than "Round the Bend."

In my being ever-open to unusual or unorthodox ways to gain workers’ attention and appeal to one’s sensibilities to further aviation safety, the notion recently struck about "respect or reverence" as a construct applied to aircraft themselves. If pilots, mechanics, air traffic controllers, etc., developed more genuine respect for their flying machines, animating or personifying them so to speak, giving them some degree of human/spiritual consideration, then that respect would result in more care given in the operation, maintenance, control and handling of aircraft.

Since before the infamous Aloha Airlines B-737 upper fuselage peel-back accident, I have to studied and championed efforts to apply HF maintenance/inspection training and awareness to prevent or reduce maintenance personnel or management error. On recent charter operator safety/security auditing trips to India and Africa, I found myself giving unplanned, spontaneous "Dutch uncle" type talks to small groups of pilots/mechanics, trying to motivate them to think and act safety. But it never dawned on me to emphasize the internalizing or feeling aspect of safety — that is, exploiting an emotional or spiritual base for safety. Granted, it won’t apply or take root with everyone’s character/values, but surely there are many who’d be affected and who’d accept and adopt this approach to some degree.

I’ve now decided to include this Zen Buddhism approach, i.e., inculcating a respectful/spiritual base to aviation safety in my future HF and safety training sessions. A typical application could be to hold two one-hour sessions wherein the basic principles of Zen Buddhism are introduced, and then explain the potential resulting benefits. Namely, increased work area safety awareness; more concern for fellow workers’ well-being; reduction of self and workplace stress; and new or increased respect/reverence for aircraft, tools and equipment, etc. This is no attempt to proselytize or induce cross-over believers, it is just a new way to raise the awareness to increase overall aviation safety.

Admittedly, not many owners/management will pioneer and embrace this different approach to improve their safety programs. And like many training efforts, it would be difficult to justify or show post-training benefits or improvements in concrete terms. Just the phrase "Zen Buddhism" could be enough to send many in management running in the opposite direction.

I’ll leave answering the sarcastic last sentence to the main character of "Round the Bend," Tom Cutter: "People are saying I’ve been out East too long and I’ve gone round the bend. Maybe I have, but then I think that being round the bend is the best place to be...."

One of Zen Buddhism’s tenets is to piously ponder a question (koan) that has no right, wrong or definitive answer. Now, besides considering the Zen way to improve aviation worker safety, one has two other things to ponder about: possibly being round the bend themselves, and then contemplating that idea.