While having an army of SLF's and otherwise inexperienced intervenors using "1-800-How's My Flying" is an unacceptable set of circumstances and can lead to all manner of untoward outcomes for the innocent, I am not convinced that the question, "where will all this lead?" is answerable in terms of a, "witch-hunt for crews everywhere". As has been observed by other posters, nuisance reports would be winnowed quickly by regulatory authorities and airlines alike. Of course there is the danger that politics and individual agendas can be triggered by non-eye/earwitness accounts but the truth of such reports can then be determined quickly by those within the industry. In all walks of life there are dangers of malfeasance in such reporting of others but in this case I wonder if examination and curiosity is to be preferred over judgement - for the moment at least?
The question to which this thread has generally addressed itself was answered in Canada at least, in the Moshansky Commission's Report on the Air Ontario Dryden accident of 1989.
Although only obliquely related to "John Marsh's" intervention, the Moshansky Commission Report does speak to the present issue. (To be clear, the difference between an SLF eye/earwitness report (esp with photos), an experienced observer's report and an SLF's report gleaned via an internet website where the population is almost exclusively anonymous, is comprehended).
The following Aviation Safety Letter 1/2004, (a regular series produced by Transport Canada) discusses, in part, the notions and issues raised by the thread, thus:
Scrutinizing Aviation Culture: Professional Courtesy, Transport Canada Aviation Safety Newsletter, 1/2004
Moments before takeoff, the F28 was taxiing out for the final takeoff with significant amounts of snow visible on the wings, and while a flight attendant and two airline captains traveling as passengers noticed, this was never communicated to the pilots. The flight attendant, who was the only crew member to survive, testified later that she had concerns over the snow, but because she had been rebuffed by company pilots over a similar situation in the past, it influenced her decision no to go to the cockpit. This cultural barrier between cockpit and cabin crew should never happen today, given how we train and conduct proper Crew Resource Management.
While the silence of the flight attendant was disturbing for the Commission of Inquiry, the Air Disasters synopsis spells out the thoughts on the two airline pilots:
In the case of the two airline captains traveling as passengers, their lack of affirmative action was unfortunate — to say the least. As professional pilots, they had a clear understanding of the danger, and their indication of concern would at least have been considered by the usually meticulous Captain Morwood.
The reason why they did not raise their concerns differ, but there are two points on which they agree — both assumed the crew was aware of the condition of the wings, and both believed the aircraft was going to be de-iced.
While taxiing away from the terminal and backtracking on the runway, the DC-9 captain thought they were proceeding to the more remote de-icing area on the airport. This was a reasonable assumption as Air Canada often de-iced its DC-9 aircraft at locations remote from the gate. There was no doubt in his mind, he recalled, that the aircraft had to be de-iced before takeoff.
The Dash 8 captain knew the de-icing equipment at Dryden was on the apron near the terminal, and expected they were going to return there. If the aircraft was not de-iced, he believed the takeoff would be aborted should the snow not come off the wings during the take-off run [a highly dangerous practice in itself]. He also indicated that “professional courtesy” precluded an off-duty airline pilot from drawing the attention of the flightcrew to a safety concern.
The inference was that “professional courtesy” among pilots was more important than safety, suggesting an unwritten code that militated against such communications, even when a potentially life-threatening concern was involved.
Other factors could influence an off-duty airline pilot not to make known his concerns: faith in the professionalism of the duty crew; fear of offending and possible rebuke for unsolicited advice; fear of embarrassment if the concern proved groundless; and a reluctance to interfere in the busy flight deck workload.
Whatever the reason, the evidence before the Inquiry pointed to a general reluctance on the part of the cabin crew and off-duty pilots to intervene in the operation of an aircraft, even in the face of apprehended danger.
The Commission believed air carriers should counsel their pilots that not only was it acceptable, but indeed expected, that off-duty airline pilots on board should draw any perceived concerns to the attention of the captain. Considering the complexity — and size — of jet aircraft today, a flight crew could only benefit from the eyes and ears of all on board, especially from those possessing pertinent skills. — MacArthur Job, Air Disasters, Vol 3, page 62
I’ll be the first to admit that it takes a lot of nerve for an off-duty pilot to step out of the passenger mentality and speak out in the manner described above. Fortunately, operational mindset changes in today’s aviation industry have, in large part, taken care of this cultural pickle. Crew members now understand such advice as totally acceptable and expected. This is the right way to do business. In fact, those extra eyes and ears in the background have turned “professional courtesy” into a potential lifesaver, as opposed to a missed opportunity to avoid a tragedy.
The above is offered for consideration and is not by way of "defence or prosecution" of the views expressed, some substantially, on the "John Marsh" entry. Suspending judgement in favour of curiosity may yield further information.
PJ2