Situational awareness aids = complacency aids?
Something happened to me today that got me thinking... the whistles and bells that fill the panel with the intention of making me more aware of my situation have a dangerous side effect... they remove little bits of the pilot from the equation one by one.
Day in and day out, for hundreds of legs, as I climb or descend to some altitude, a helpful "boop" and a flashing light remind me that there's a thousand feet to go, and out of reflex, even mid-sentence sometimes, say "seven for six" or whatever the case may be. It's a simple device that I never had in the training aircraft I flew, and in those aircraft, I never busted an altitude. So why did I bust an altitude in the most advanced airplane I've flown yet?
Because a sneaky circuit breaker popped and the APA wasn't working. This has no alarms or bells to go along with it, just a little bitty flag on the APA itself that only covers up the last 2 zeros that we never really look at anyway, even if we were setting the APA when it was up. The CA and I were in some conversation about something or other and I glanced across my altimeter to notice that I was through 10,800 and climbing. No big deal, except that our assigned altitude was 10. I clicked the autopilot off, eased the nose down, and the captain explained our situation to ATC. No harm, no foul.
The thing is, I had probably looked at the altimeter a dozen times when it was over 10. "Yup, still climbing" is probably all I really thought. But because I let my guard down and trusted the APA to go "boop" and flash when it was time to pay attention, I'm not sure I ever really stopped and thought about what it should have been saying. I stopped actually flying the airplane.
Obviously this isn't a conscious decision that I made, I never once in the climb thought "I'm going to ignore my altitude." But that's what happened. I felt about 3 inches tall after it happened, and was just thankful that a little embarassment on both of our parts is all that came from this incident.
My dad always told me I'd learn something every day I got in an airplane. I guess some days you learn more than others.