Sunday, April 24, 2016

A NextGen Thought Experiment




The FAA planned, designed, and implemented NextGen (their "Next Generation" air traffic control system) with very little public input or scrutiny. Since the rollout, there has been a huge outcry from people on the ground that have been impacted by the new flight paths. Until recently, the FAA seemed intent on ignoring all complaints and feedback.

As readers of this blog may know, I am fond of thought experiments. They help me get my brain around an issue. The other day I got to wondering about what would have happened if the impacts of NextGen were not the discomfort, annoyance, and potential loss of property values that are currently being reported. What if NextGen were fatal?

What if, for every day that NextGen were in place, some number of people living under the new flight paths died. Random people. Not young or old, or with impaired immune systems. Not people of any particular race, ethnicity or socio-economic status. For no apparent reason, every day, when a plane went over, some number of people would die.

Lets think about what would happen if in every region where NextGen was rolled out, one thousand people per day living under the new flight paths died. I would hope that NextGen would be rolled back instantly. They wouldn’t just stop the rollout. They wouldn’t form committees to study the problem. They would immediately roll back the implementation of the plan. There would be mass migrations of people away from the affected areas – even after the rollback. There would be congressional hearings, firings of engineers and scientists, lawsuits, and massive reparations. Right?

OK. That’s an extreme thought experiment. One thousand people per day is a lot of deaths. What if it were one hundred, or ten, or just one? There are millions of people in the bay area. What if NextGen measurably improved airplane safety and efficiency, but, as a direct result of the changed flight plans, one person on the ground died every day that wouldn’t have died under the prior air traffic system? I imagine that the effect would be the same as with one thousand people killed per day.

Let’s continue. What if it were one person per month? Or one person per year? What if the implementation of NextGen would cause the random death of one person per century? What if there were a one in a million chance that in any given year a person would die? It could be this year, or, it could be a million years from now. At what point would we say that was acceptable “collateral damage” for a new level of aerospace safety and efficiency? After all, even if the one death happened this year, it still probably wouldn’t be you. Right? What number would you choose? Or, is there any number of deaths that would be deemed acceptable? If we knew for certain that the chances were one in a million, or one in a billion, or one in a trillion, would people be willing to live under flight paths? I live quite close to the Hayward fault. We are overdue for a major earthquake. When that happens, some number of people are likely to die. But housing prices in my area have never been higher.

What about the other end of the spectrum? What if airplanes were silent and invisible? What if they were undetectable without radar or other special equipment? Now imagine that some people living under NextGen flight paths complained that they were scared by the idea that there were airplanes above them. What if some people said that they were terrified by the possibility of an engine falling off of a plane, or an invisible airplane suddenly crashing into their house? What if they said that they couldn’t sleep, their health was failing, and they could no long work, just from the thought of airplanes above them?

Would we expect the FAA to accommodate one person complaining that their life was being ruined by the fear of airplanes, even though there was no tangible impact on them? What if ten people were so effected? What if 10% of people under the flight paths were having their lives significantly affected by the knowledge that airplanes were flying over their neighborhood, even though there was no evidence of their passage? Would the FAA, Congress, and the nation declare that these people were just nuts? Would they say that progress should not be impeded by delusions? What if it were 20%? Or 50%? What if 100% of people living under NextGen flight paths indicated that they were being negatively impacted simply because there were airplanes up there somewhere? Is there any number of people complaining of "irrational" fears that would cause a change in NextGen?

To me the most important question is, who gets to make these decisions? The benefits are some amount of predicted increase in safety and efficiency*. The impacts lie somewhere on a scale from millions of deaths to the unfounded fears of one person. But who gets to decide the trade-off?

As it currently stands, Congress empowered the FAA to make the rules, and then directed them to develop a Next Generation air traffic control system with little or no further input. It was the FAA that decided how many decibels is “loud”, and how much of a change in decibels is an “impact.” The FAA themselves then concluded that the NextGen changes did not create an impact. There have been lawsuits against the FAA over NextGen, but they are failing, since there aren't grounds to sue. If you sue the FAA claiming that the noise is impacting you, and the FAA says that the numbers show no impact, then your suit is baseless. Is the fox guarding the hen-house, or does the FAA just not appreciate the true impacts of these changes in certain areas? How much do we trust the FAA to make the right choices, and who gets to decide?

I don’t have answers to these questions, but, I find them inherently interesting. They help me to think about the actual impacts of NextGen and the FAA’s lack of response. I would love to hear your thoughts.

* Note: According to the FAA's Environmental Assessment for Northern California Optimization of Airspace and Procedures in the Metroplex, section 5.7.1, "The Proposed Action would result in a relatively small increase in aircraft fuel burned: 0.40 percent in 2014 and 0.36 percent increase in 2019." This implies that NextGen is less efficient. However, it is not clear from the wording of the section if this refers to total energy use, fuel used by airplanes in while flying within the metroplex, or an increase in fuel purchased in the region for refueling of aircraft.

Sunday, April 17, 2016

The FAA has taken my peace and quiet


Airplanes crash into my quiet life

My peace and serenity have been taken from me. Nine years ago I bought a home in a quiet neighborhood of Oakland, California. I then spent over two and half years designing and building my “dream house.” I am very proud of what I created, and I love being here. But, recently, the FAA took the quiet life from me and my neighborhood.

For the past couple of years the FAA has been rolling out “NextGen”, the “Next Generation” air traffic control system. I won’t bother going into the details of NextGen – it is a very complicated set of changes, and is well documented elsewhere. Suffice it to say that NextGen has had noise impacts in every city where there is a major air traffic hub. The City of Phoenix, Arizona, was the first to sue the FAA over NextGen noise. Other citizens and cities have sued or threatened lawsuits. Congress-people are introducing bills to stop the changes and require the FAA to respond to complaints. Groups are organizing all over the country. The reason is that NextGen has changed flight patterns around airports, causing new routing of airplanes, and concentrating air traffic in narrow bands of high noise. Two of those bands go over my home.


The relationship between airports and communities

Since the start of commercial aviation, airports and communities have been involved in a conversation. Depending on where and when an airport was built, it may have been sited well away from the city (e.g. the new Denver International Airport), or, it may have been placed close in to facilitate easy access - the airport in Phoenix is downtown.Many airports are built on the edges of metropolitan areas.

But cities grow and change, and airports grow and change as well. Airports that were once on the edges of town may find themselves engulfed by the cities they serve, surrounded by commercial or residential areas that weren’t there when the planners first chose the site.

During the 90 years since its founding, Oakland airport and the community have been having a conversation about noise and air traffic impacts. Sometimes it has been explicit: When neighborhoods were excessively impacted, the airport met with the communities and attempted to accommodate their needs. The airport has worked to be a good citizen, serving the needs of Oakland and the region.


The invisible conversation

At the same time there has been an invisible “conversation” going on. Businesses that serve or rely on aviation, and other forms of transportation, have located near the airport. Real estate prices in these loud areas are generally low, so operations such as warehouses and storage units, that depend on low real estate costs, find the area around the airport to be attractive.

Some people want to live near the airport. They may work for airlines, aviation support companies, or the airport itself. They choose to accept noise in exchange for proximity. Frequent travelers may also make this choice, and there are hotels that cater to travelers by being as close to the airport as possible. Some people might live near the airport because they don’t mind the noise and choose lower real-estate costs over quiet. Finally, of course, there are far too many people who are forced to live in uncomfortable and unpleasant places due to financial hardship.

Others choose to live away from transit, airports, city centers, and other sources of disturbance. Such choices may mean long, difficult commutes; poor access to restaurants, shopping and entertainment.; they may face high real estate costs and property taxes. Some people are willing to go deeply into debt to purchase homes where there is peace and quiet.

This is not limited to the area around the airport. Any place in the metropolitan area that airplane noise can be heard will experience this kind of natural, organic separation. Residents self-sort by the priority they place on silence vs. other needs. Over years, people vote with their dollars and their feet to be closer to, or farther from, noisy locations. They also vote in elections for representatives that support their needs and desires. City planners establish zoning laws that enforce the decades old patterns created by peoples' choices of buying and selling, building and demolishing. These zoning regulations create the framework of stability that give residents and businesses the confidence to invest in the community.

This is not novel to Oakland. It happens everywhere in America. Through generations of explicit and implicit negotiation, a city falls into a certain shape.


The FAA upsets the apple cart

Then, suddenly, without any notice or conversation, the FAA upended the apple cart - showing no consideration for the delicate balance of quiet and noise worked out over the years. Formerly airplanes flight paths were spread out over a broad area. The NextGen system is now concentrating air traffic in narrow bands. Many of these fly above areas that used to be quiet - the very places where the most noise-sensitive individuals have settled.

As for myself, I have sacrificed proximity to transit, recreation, and city services. I have sacrificed time, effort, and energy. And I have sacrificed money. All because I place a high priority on peace and quiet. I would love to live downtown, with all it has to offer. But I can’t stand the noise! So, I live in Montclair where it is quiet – where it was quiet.


The FAA's mistaken mission

How could this possibly happen? Our communities have had an ongoing relationship with our airports. How can the FAA ignore that? I believe the answer is in their mission statement, which reads:
Our continuing mission is to provide the safest, most efficient aerospace system in the world.
Period. Therein lies the root of the problem. NextGen achieves this mission. NextGen makes the aerospace system safer and more efficient. Mission accomplished. The problem is that while the FAA has succeeded in their mission, it was the wrong mission.

I propose that the first step in stopping the noise problems created by NextGen is to change the mission statement of the FAA. I believe that the FAA’s mission statement should proudly proclaim:
Our continuing mission is to create and maintain an aerospace system that best serves the people of the United States.
If this had been the mission of the FAA, NextGen would have been designed very differently. The needs, comfort, and safety of people on the ground would have been every bit as important as the safety and efficiency of the system in the air.

The FAA is no doubt reluctant to meet with us, and take our needs into consideration, because NextGen is fulfilling their mission. Changing their mission to reflect the needs of the people will change the whole conversation.

The mission statement that I propose will not be alien to the FAA. Their “Vision Statement” says,
We strive to reach the next level of safety, efficiency, environmental responsibility and global leadership. We are accountable to the American public and our stakeholders.
Somehow that vision of accountability to the American public has been overlooked. The mission overran the vision.


How do we move forward?

We need to remind the FAA that we are their ultimate customers, and we are the arbiters of their success or failure. They should be reminded every day by putting this into their mission statement. The Federal Aviation Administration exists for the benefit of the American people, not for the benefit of abstract notions of safety and efficiency. Change the mission statement and NextGen will naturally change to serve the new mission – one that enhances the lives of all Americans, in the air and on the ground.


Monday, April 4, 2016

Dukkha





Life is dukkha.
The hummingbird does not know this.
Oh to be a hummingbird.