I felt safer piloting planes after 9/11. But now terror can lock itself inside the cockpit

Take yourself back to 9/11. The twin towers of the World Trade Centre are collapsing and yet, despite that apocalyptic scene, the world’s attention suddenly shifts to a hitherto harmless field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, where United 93 has crashed after a violent struggle in the cockpit between desperate passengers and a terrorist. Tragically, the terrorist prevailed and the world was never the same.

Neither was aviation.

We’ve all experienced the strict security routines that resulted from that despicable day. Every time we fly, the legacy of September 11 lingers in some way. Be it the slower security queue or the drink bottle you have to forfeit. But most of all, it’s the locked, bullet-proof cockpit door. Even if the captain wants a coffee, or to relieve him or herself after one, the flight attendants have to stand in what might be harm’s way for that door to open momentarily.

Now drag yourselves forward 25 years, almost to the day, and think about what appears to have happened in the cockpit of flydubai FZ1073, where it seems no one had to bash down a cockpit door because the apparent villain was already inside. Yes, security has become so water-tight that the weakest link now appears to be the pilots themselves.

In this astonishing case, the locked cockpit door was more a hindrance than a help, until somehow the severely injured captain, suffering stab wounds by all reports, had the physical capacity and the presence of mind to open the door and allow passengers to save themselves from a pilot rather than vice versa.

What an unbelievable turn of events.

But it’s not the first time the passengers have needed saving from a crew member, the worst example being the Germanwings crash in 2015, when one pilot locked the other out of the flight deck and steered the plane into a mountain, killing all 150 people onboard.

Back when I commanded the mighty 747 and then the A380, out of the hundreds of passengers aboard, it often crossed my mind that they could become a resource if, heaven forbid, any rogue activity endangered my flight. We assess the physical prowess and brief passengers in exit rows on how to help in the event of an evacuation. But when it comes to the cockpit, it’s off limits. It’s the only safe way. Unless the terrorist is already inside.

It appears the flydubai 737 MAX plummeted more than 18,000ft in just two minutes. That rate of descent is itself extraordinary and far exceeds the design limits of any commercial aircraft I have flown. The VSI (vertical speed indicator) of modern airliners reaches only 6000ft per minute. (That’s an instrument that measures the rate of climb or descent in feet per minute.) So 18,000ft in just two minutes would mean the VSI would have hit “the stops”. The aircraft would have exceeded the speed of sound on its terrifying descent, and indeed pieces of the rudder were missing when the plane was eventually landed by two other pilots who were miraculously onboard, which was no mean feat in itself.

It’s testament to the structural strength of the B737, as is the case for all modern airliners, to survive those extreme aerodynamic loads and then be in a position to land safely. The 737 MAX has had a chequered history, with its manufacturer Boeing coming under a lot of criticism, and being fined heavily, for design flaws that tragically resulted in loss of life, loss of airframe and loss of reputation. But seeing that battered and bruised 737 on the ground with its tail in tatters was a nod to those who built it.

But the biggest nod must go to the hero pilot who it seems not only fought off his colleague-attacker but who also managed to open the cockpit door to allow more heroes onto the flightdeck. It’s a terribly twisted turn of events when the “one-way street” for flight deck access becomes a major threat to aircraft safety.

It may well be time to reassess the actuation of the cockpit door to allow immediate entry from the cabin when things go as wrong as they appear to have gone on flight FZ1073.

David Evans was a Qantas pilot for 37 years.