Flying is one of those things where it pays to be a pessimist. Despite the very good reliability of aircraft engines, every student pilot is taught how to deal with engine failures before they're allowed to solo. As my first instructor pointed out, any engine can fail at any time. It's better to be prepared. That means planning your flight to avoid overflying places that would be impossible to land in should you have an emergency*. It also means reviewing and practicing the emergency checklists regularily.

In addition to the engine, a pilot has to be pessimistic about other things. Weather forecasters have been known to be wrong on a fairly regular basis. Avionics and electrical systems can fail (I've had both happen to me), so blindly following one into clouds can ruin your whole day. There's one particular type of cloud that is unpleasant - the dreaded cumolo-granite. Inaccurate navigation in reduced visibility can get noisy. That's why I cross check my navigation with up to 3 GPS receivers, including 2 battery powered ones independent of the electrical system.

In engineering, it's wonderful that people have new ideas. That's how technology advances. Still, I want these technologies tested before betting my life on them. I don't care how optimistic or lucky the engineer thinks he is, I want to see the structure stress tested. Ronald Reagan used to say about the Soviets, "Trust but verify." For me, I'll trust AFTER verification, thank you.

Many years ago, I heard a sentiment attributed to Ben Franklin. I don't know if he ever said this, but I like it. "Some people go through life as optimists. They hope for the best and are frequently disappointed. Me, I'm something of a pessimist. I expect the worst and, if it happens, I'm prepared. If it doesn't happen, I'm pleasantly surprised."

And yes, I generally feel lucky. Life is very good. I'd like it to stay that way.

* I very rarely fly at night for this reason. The accident rate is substancially higher at night (although engine failures at night aren't very common), and an engine failure in a single engine plane can be deadly. There's a morbid old joke about an engine failure at night that goes, "In the event your engine quits, perform your emergency checklist, establish best glide speed, and set up for landing. Before you reach the ground, turn on your landing light. If you don't like what you see, turn it back off. There isn't anything you can do about it anyway, so there's no need to see it coming."