I noticed a comment to my earlier post about the forthcoming dope testing and particularly the alcohol limit imposed by the FAI’s banned list. The comment was left by Peter Saundby who is the President of the FAI Medical Commission (CIMP). In the comment he ‘assures me the CIMP has done their best to preserve [my] wishes to have a few drinks after flying and not be in breach of the regulations the next day’. On a technical note he states that UK Aviation Law has a limit of 2g per litre of blood and not 8g as per road law.
Now, this seemed a polite reply to what was, essentially, a long article taking the mickey out of the various people who decide the rules on our behalf but I thought he’d missed the point on two counts.
Firstly, whilst he points out that aviation law in the UK stipulates a 2g per litre blood alcohol limit he says nothing about why the FAI has then chosen 1g per litre. So I ask again – if the pilot who flew me here on a 100 million dollar Airbus with 300 passengers’ safety riding on his decisions could have 2g per litre of blood alcohol, why will I only be allowed 1g in competition? I don’t follow the logic (if there is any and it’s not all done for political reasons – to set a good example – as I suspect).
Secondly, I truly believe that the people that sit on these committees just don’t understand the mentality of the pilots they are representing. Why is this?
To put it bluntly, top competition pilots in general and particularly competition paraglider pilots are just not normal. Does anybody think that leaping from a hill into angry conditions with your safety assured by 7 kilos of marginally stable sail cloth which at any moment could decide to stop flying, is normal? Let’s face it, most Olympic Athletes or indeed most competitive sports people do not run a very significant risk of death or serious injury each time they participate in their chosen sport. The only things that spring to mind are some forms of motor sport and a few ‘extreme’ sports. In spite of recent advances in equipment and organisation I rarely do a competition where somebody doesn’t ‘smack in’, often with quite serious consequences. The fact that we, as pilots, accept this means we are not in any way a ‘normal’ cross section of the population at large. In fact we are pretty weird as far as I can see.
Now, people who accept extreme risk for the extreme rewards it gives to their sense of well being and sanity are often prone to other sorts of risk-taking behaviour. They often drink too much, take drugs, are loud and outspoken (now you know where I got it from) and in many cases not particularly likeable characters in every day social situations.
So the point I’m making is that the very top guys in a sport where the risk of death or disablement are so high are unlikely to conform to social norms. If they’ve survived the day they’re likely to drink, smoke or engage in other frowned upon behaviours. If they were unable to control these behaviours and were flying whilst unfit then Darwinian Forces would have removed them from the gene pool long before they’d amassed the thousands of hours flying necessary to be chosen for a National Team and compete in the World Championships.
So why the need for somebody running around with dope testing equipment? If it’s about ability to fly, nature would have already killed or disabled any pilot who was unable to function properly after drinking long before they ever got good enough to be here, and if it’s about setting a good example then we directly discriminate against the very type of character who is likely to be able to withstand the very high mental stresses involved in constantly cheating death from day to day.
None the less in the spirit of the rules I did give up drinking three weeks ago. We’ll see how long this lasts when I get my first asymmetric and cravat which I manage to stall out metres above the treetops. In fact just thinking about it makes me want to down a massive glug of brandy. Should I be so inclined (I’m not as I don’t like it) a nice large reefer might be the thing to calm my nerves. Only for a privileged few will yoga or transcendental meditation work. It is really hard to describe to people who haven’t experienced it how paragliding, particularly competition paragliding, can be so utterly terrifying and hugely rewarding all at the same time. But believe me, it can be really, really bloody scary. Drugs, whether they be in the form of alcohol or other less acceptable ones, help many to get their heads sorted after a big scare. Those who can’t get their heads around it just give up flying. It’s as simple as that.
This is where the resentment comes from when ‘dope testing’ or other forms of external policing are imposed upon people who have dedicated their lives to managing their mental processes in such an extreme and unforgiving environment. In short, as a group, we don’t like being told what to do because we feel we already know. Should any of the FAI Medical Commission beat me head to head on a task or even have the bottle to fly my glider I’d be much more inclined to listen to their advice.
So, do we want the best pilots in the World, along with all the emotional and mental baggage that comes with living on the edge? Or do we want those that best fit the clean-cut, blue blazer wearing profile the authorities would probably like to see?
I think this is an important question that we should all think about, not only in paragliding but also in the wider World.
Mark H
PS – Thanks for taking the time to reply, Peter. This blog is not in any way aimed personally at you, but at the general concept of what these rules represent.
