Autopilot

 

The rumble of the turbo props was joined by an echo that sounded like a Harley-Davidson convention. The windowless fuselage twitched and creaked.

 

I’d spent the past week covering a Defence Force exercise and was one of only two passengers on an Air Force transport between the Northern Territory and Kununurra in the East Kimberley. One of the benefits of media accreditation was the ability to hitch rides in this way. In this case the imperative to get to my destination was such that I was happy to be an “enemy” for the time it took. The aircraft bore a large orange circle on its tail, indicating that it was “Camarian”, or enemy for the purposes of the exercise, and the changing sounds and sensations of the journey were an indication that these Camarians were taking their role seriously.

 

The crewman in charge in the load area was no longer dozing, and as our eyes met he motioned to me to come forward.

 

“Do you want to have a look up front?” he yelled over the noise. I nodded and he led me up into the cockpit where the young pilot looked like she was playing an arcade game. Either side of the substantial wingspan were the red rock walls of a river gorge. The pilot was in full concentration as she finessed the craft this way and that, along the meandering path of the river.

 

“Tactical Flying”, the crewman yelled with a broad smile. “Under the radar”, he added, using his hands to illustrate the point.

 

As a photojournalist I had many occasions to experience aviation with a twist. Whether it was landing on aircraft carriers, taking air-to-air pictures of other craft, or a multitude of other scenarios, there was one thing in common. It was apparent that the pilots were fully engaged in doing something that they loved, and the flying did not involve the use of autopilot.

 

I recall a conversation with a former airline pilot who had retired early in order to run his own helicopter charter business. His main reason for the shift was to get back into what he described as “real flying”. Despite the large income that went with his former career as a long-haul pilot, he found that the hours spent sitting in the cockpit of a plane which “flew itself” had become intolerably boring, and he delighted in the decision he had made to start afresh.

 

Although we may never take to the skies, I believe we can find ourselves controlled by autopilot. Don’t get me wrong - it may serve us well. In our ability to navigate our days without even noticing the decisions that we are making or the choices that we are preferring, I am sure that we make efficient use of our energy. Our brains allow us to automatically respond to all sorts of situations, which is as it should be. Imagine having to ponder each event of our lives as if for the first time, without reference to our repertoire of already learned responses. We would find it impossible to get anything done!

 

 Occasionally we might find ourselves in a new environment or doing a new job, where we have to stop and think, but in the routine of our lives, our inbuilt autopilot allows us to avoid stopping, thinking and deliberating over the choices. Many of us are trained to respond without needing to think. This may be useful for those whose job it is to respond to emergencies, to over-ride distress and not be distracted by the circumstances.

 

However, I find that autopilot has the potential to let us down, especially when it becomes our master rather than our servant.

 

There is a saying that comes from the philosopher Aristotle, which transcribes as, “If you go on doing as you have done, you will keep on getting what you have got”.

 

If we want something different to happen in our lives, the onus is on us to do something different in our lives, and chances are that doing something different will entail switching off the autopilot.

 

In coaching I often find that people are like passengers in their own lives with the controls switched to autopilot.

 

They may have difficulty knowing how or why they make choices they make, or be unaware that they have choice at all. As a coach I help people to notice their lives, to make decisions mindfully rather than by unconscious automatic response. It may feel somewhat “clunky” at first, but I have never known somebody to regret the decision to take control.

 

I believe that autopilot should be our servant, not our master. If it does not serve us well, we have the right to turn it off!