AIRMANSHIP
Autunno 1999
 

September 21, 2000
Swissair 111, TWA 800, and Electromagnetic Interference

ELAINE SCARRY
 

On the evening of July 17, 1996, TWA 800 fell into the ocean seven miles from the Long Island town of East Moriches. The plane had taken off from New York's JFK Airport and had been bound for Paris, France. All 230 people on board died. The inquiry into the crash, the most expensive and (in its attention to the plane's internal systems) the most rigorous inquiry in aviation history, has lasted for four years. A final hearing by the National Transportation Safety Board has been taking place on August 22 and 23, 2000, as this issue of The New York Review goes to press; neither the hearing nor the report that will follow it is expected (according to advance press reports) to "pinpoint" the cause of the crash. The full written report will become available to the public in several months.
1  During the first year and a half of the inquiry, investigators from the National Transportation Safety Board and from the FBI concentrated on three matters: the possibility of a mechanical cause, the possibility of a bomb, and the possibility of a missile. In November of 1997, the FBI formally announced its conclusion that neither a bomb nor a missile had caused the accident (at this point, the FBI withdrew from the case). In December of 1997, the Safety Board—which had painstrakingly reconstructed most of the plane and scrutinized all of its internal systems—held a week-long public meeting reviewing the extensive, but inconclusive, evidence it had accumulated.
Investigators had long known that the plane's central fuel tank exploded, but had at first been uncertain whether that explosion occurred early or late in the sequence of events that brought the plane down. By the time that the December 1997 public meeting took place, the Safety Board had long since concluded that the central fuel tank explosion was an early event in the catastrophe. What still remained was to find the source of the ignition, the cause of the explosion. Between December of 1997 and August of 2000, the Safety Board continued its search for the ignition source. Included in its inquiry, and emphasized in the August hearings, was the possibility of a short-circuit or some other problem in the plane's 150 miles of aging wiring. Also included in the inquiry was the possibility of an external ignition source, electromagnetic interference from one, or more than one, of the many military and civilian ships and planes that had been in the vicinity of TWA 800 and that, along with powerful civilian and military transmitters on land, might have produced an adverse electromagnetic environment. This second line of inquiry—electromagnetic interference from a source external to the plane's own wiring (internal and external sources of ignition are not mutually exclusive:damaged wiring inside a plane can increase its vulnerability to external transmissions)—is the subject of the article that follows.

1.


In the past two years, the National Transportation Safety Board has taken steps to assess the severity of the electromagnetic environment that surrounded TWA 800 on the evening it fell. In July of 1998, the Safety Board promised to enlist the technical expertise of the Joint Spectrum Center, the agency inside the Department of Defense whose laboratories are designed to sort out problems in the electromagnetic spectrum, particularly as those problems affect military craft. The NTSB also promised to call upon the services of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA), some of whose scientists work directly on problems of electromagnetic interference affecting civilian planes, as well as space shuttles and other craft.
2  By August of 1998, the Joint Spectrum Center had begun its work and in January of 1999 it delivered to the NTSB its completed study of the ground, sea, and air transmitters that, according to the NTSB, were known to have been in the TWA 800 environment.3 The $45,000 study designates the signal frequency of each fixed and mobile transmitter and computes the electric field strength each signal would have had at the accident site itself. The Joint Spectrum Center's report was then forwarded by the Safety Board to NASA so that its scientists could determine whether the electrical field strength at the accident site (as calculated by the Joint Spectrum Center) was strong enough to have provided an ignition source for the explosion suffered by TWA 800. NASA's assessment was expected to be completed by December 1999, but the complex study required fifteen months rather than the hoped-for twelve.4 In March of 2000 NASA forwarded to the NTSB a report concluding that the signal stengths specified in the Joint Spectrum Center study were not strong enough to have caused the central fuel tank explosion.5



Two aspects of the work so far accomplished need to be looked at: first, the impressive technical strengths of the Joint Spectrum Center and NASAstudies; second, the incompleteness of the studies, the result of the omission from the analysis of certain ships and planes in the area. The Joint Spectrum Center, though headed by officers from the Navy, Air Force, and Army, does not itself have the legal authority to conduct an inquiry into the military craft in the area of the accident. The National Transportation Safety Board does have that legal authority, and the Joint Spectrum Center must rely on the Safety Board to carry out a full reconstruction of the possible external sources of electromagnetic interference and to provide it with a complete list of those sources. The Joint Spectrum Center openly states that its report is only as accurate and as comprehensive as the Safety Board's list of military craft in the area is accurate and comprehensive. Since NASA's research, in turn, is based on the figures arrived at by the Joint Spectrum Center, NASA's conclusions also depend for their validity on the accuracy of the list the NTSB originally provided to the Joint Spectrum Center.
While major steps have been taken to ascertain the role that electromagnetic interference might have played in the fall of TWA 800 (steps whose strengths and weaknesses will be looked at in detail in a later part of this article), it is important to recall that during the time the Joint Spectrum Center and NASA studies were being made, two other drastic events took place in the same geographical region: the fall of Swissair 111 on September 2, 1998, and the fall of EgyptAir 990 on October 31, 1999. When each of the three accidents is looked at in isolation, each has features that suggest that electromagnetic interference is a possible cause—a possible cause that, like all other possible causes, should be carefully scrutinized.
The three accidents viewed together, however, greatly increase the need to assess with precision the possible role of electromagnetic interference: the occurrence of three accidents in a single area increases the chance that something in the external environment is acting as a contributing factor. Studies by the Joint Spectrum Center and by NASA need to be undertaken not only in the case of TWA 800 (where ships and other equipment that could have caused electromagnetnic interference were unfortunately omitted from the study and should now be added) but also in the cases of Swissair 111 and EgyptAir 990. Carrying out such studies will require that the National Transportation Safety Board first undertake a full reconstruction of the military and civilian craft in the area surrounding each plane. Without a comprehensive picture of all transmitters in the vicinity, no precise analysis of the radio and radar environments can be made. This essay is a request to the NTSB that such inquiries be started as soon as possible.

2.


Like TWA 800, Swissair 111 is believed to have suffered an electrical catastrophe.
6 In the case of Swissair 111 as in the case of TWA 800, the originating event remains mysterious: TWA 800's catastrophe involved the wiring in the central fuel tank and Swissair 111's catastrophe involved the wiring in the entertainment system located near the cockpit, but in neither case do investigators believe they have yet found the originating cause.7 
A third feature shared by the two accidents is location, and a fourth is timing. Each year in the United States planes take off more than 8.25 million times; in two years and two months (the time period that separates the TWA and Swissair accidents) the figure is close to 18 million.
8 Two of those 18 million departures led to a mysterious electrical catastrophe. The two flights that suffered the catastrophe could have originated from two different airports anywhere in the country,9 or, for that matter, anywhere in the world. But as it happens, both planes took off from a single airport, New York's JFK. The two flights could have taken off on any two days of the week and at any two minutes of the day.10 But as it happens, both took off on a Wednesday at 8:19 PM.11 
The literature on electromagnetic interference is full of stories about unwanted electrical upsets that recur in the same space at the same time: one company, for example, found that its computers crashed every Friday at 3:00 PM; the cause turned out to be a piece of mowing equipment that was turned on at 3:00 PM each Friday during the summer.
12 Electromagnetic interference often does, of course, happen only a single time; but a one-time-only event often remains an unsolved mystery. Frequently unsolved, too, are problems caused by electromagnetic interference that recur irregularly (one day at 3:00 PM, seventeen days later at 9:00 AM, four hundred days later at 7:15 AM) in widely separate locations. When, in contrast, the event recurs at an exact time and place, it may become clear that—as in the case of the computer and the mowing machine—the problem is arising not from some problem inside the affected piece of equipment but from something outside—something on a regular enough schedule that its responsibility can eventually be tracked down.


Both planes started out on a route that took them east along the southern coast of Long Island. TWA 800 began to fall at 8:31 PM, twelve minutes into the flight. Swissair 111 flew for an hour longer than did TWA 800; it crashed off the coast of Nova Scotia at 9:31 PM Eastern Daylight Time.
(See map.)



If both planes crossed paths with some fatal electromagnetic event in their environment that was operating
13 on an almost identical schedule on the two evenings, it would seem that Swissair 111 should have begun to have trouble twelve minutes into the flight (the point when TWA 800's data recorder, transponder, and data box ceased operating). In fact, something close to this seems to have taken place. Reports about Swissair 111 have left the public with the incorrect impression that the plane managed to make its way, uneventfully, east along Long Island and north along the New England coast before suddenly beginning to encounter trouble when it was sixty miles from Halifax. The record of the difficulty, as widely reported in the press, begins at 9:14 PM, when Swissair 111's pilot requests permission to make an unscheduled landing at Boston; the air controller in Moncton, Canada, reminds him that he is much closer to the Halifax airport than to Boston, and asks him if he would prefer to land at Halifax. At the moment of the 9:14 call, the cockpit has smoke in it and—as the data recorder would later reveal to Canadian investigators—ten minutes later the computers on board suddenly begin receiving false information. Over the next ninety seconds, the autopilot disconnects; the data grow more and more anomalous; soon the plane's electrical systems fail altogether.14

Swissair 111 was an MD-11, a type of plane made by McDonnell-Douglas and derived from the DC-10. When the MD-11 first appeared in the 1990s, its "design philosophy" was widely celebrated: 1,500 software engineers (working in consultation with pilots from thirty-seven airlines) had created a plane that could fly smoothly while carrying out tremendous feats of self-repair. Even if the plane were to suffer "multiple electrical faults," its computers would quickly "reconfigure" the electrical systems, instantly redistributing tasks among the plane's three electrical systems. What was envisioned was not just that the plane would, under duress, buy time for its pilots and passengers; it would diagnose and eliminate even a severe problem, purring along as though nothing had happened.
15 It may well be that Swissair 111's problems began at 9:14 and that the plane's systems, far from correcting themselves or buying time, simply surrendered to the ever-accelerating decline. But it is also possible that Swissair 111's electrical problems began much earlier and that for a time the plane did carry out acts of self-repair.  What can be said with certainty is this: It is not the case that Swissair 111 flew uneventfully up the New England coast. In fact, it suffered a serious problem, and the problem first surfaced in the very zone where TWA 800 fell.


In the early stage of the flight, while Swissair 111 was still traveling east along the southern coast of Long Island, it lost radio contact with the eastern seaboard air controllers for thirteen minutes. TWA 800 had begun its fatal fall (and had lost the use of its radio, transponder, cockpit recorder, and data box recorder) at a clock time of 8:31 PM, less than a minute after a normal radio exchange with the Boston air controllers. Swissair 111 had its last normal exchange with the Boston air controllers at 8:33 PM, after which it lost radio contact with every air controller on the northeast coast for the next thirteen minutes.  Under normal conditions, exchanges between air controllers and pilots occur in pairs: a call initiated by the air controller will be answered by the pilot, who restates what the air controller has just said; or the call may instead be initiated by the pilot, who asks a question (such as permission to climb to an altitude that has less wind turbulence), which the air controller answers, after which the pilot repeats the information to verify that the words have been heard and understood. This pattern of call and recall is not a casual practice; it is a required procedure. While the sentences of pilots and air controllers normally occur in tight pairs, there can be many factors that for a few seconds interrupt the rhythm of the call-and-recall pattern, and necessitate a repetition of the call. But the failure to answer is never taken lightly and if it continues, it may become a matter of grave concern.  For a thirteen-minute period from 8:33 PM until 8:47 PM, no completed act of radio contact took place between Swissair 111 and the Boston area air controllers, whose radars are positioned at Sardi on Long Island, Hampton on Long Island, Cape Cod, Nantucket, and Augusta, Maine.
16 As the plane progresses, it is passed along from one controller to the next. In Swissair 111's last successful exchange at 8:33, the Hampton controller had told the pilot the radio frequency he should now use as he begins to enter the Cape Cod airspace and the pilot had accurately repeated back to him that new frequency:
Hampton Controller: Swissair 111. Boston17
one two eight point seven five.
Swissair 111: One two eight seven five. One Eleven, right.
Hampton Controller: Good bye.18
From this point forward, Swissair 111 should be in communication with the Cape sector. But the Cape controller cannot reach the plane; and so at 8:34 PM, he asks the Hampton controller to try to reach him on the old frequency: "Try him again, thanks."
Hampton Controller: Swissair 111. Center.19
Swissair 111: [no response]20
The radio21 a commercial pilot uses for communication with air traffic control has a double screen: the frequency used for one sector (in this case, Hampton) is kept in place on the first screen when the new frequency (in this case, Cape) is dialed in on the second screen. That way the pilot can quickly get back to the first frequency, should he discover that he has misheard or misdialed the new frequency. But Swissair 111 can now be reached on neither frequency (though it remains visible on radar22 ). Unable to reach Swissair 111, the Hampton controller goes on to normal exchanges with other planes in the area—he instructs a plane addressed as Echo Charley to descend and maintain a specified altitude (and Echo Charley repeats back the altitude); he instructs a Delta flight to proceed to its destination (and the Delta flight repeats back the instruction).

The clock moves forward to 8:36 and the Cape controller renews his efforts to reach Swissair 111:
Cape Controller: Swissair 111. Climb and maintain flight level three one zero [31,000].
Swissair 111: [no response]23
Cape Controller: Swissair 111. Boston.
Swissair 111: [no response]24
The Cape controller now contacts the associated25 controller at Hampton to enlist his help once more:
Hampton Associated Controller: Hampton.
Cape Controller: Try Swissair 111 again, please.
Hampton Associated Controller: We tried him, he's not here. We'll try him again.
Cape Controller: O.K.26
At 8:38, the four-step cycle begins one last time. Step one: the Cape controller tries and fails to reach the plane:
Cape Controller: Swissair 111. Cleared direct [to] Bradd.27
Swissair 111: [no response]
Cape Controller: Swissair 111. Swissair 111. Hear Boston Center. Contact Boston one two eight point seven five, one two eight point seven five. If you hear Boston, ident.
Swissair 111: [no response]
Step two: the Cape associated controller contacts the Hampton associated controller to ask for help:
Hampton Associated Controller: Hampton.
Cape Associated Controller: Yes. This is Cape. Could you try Swissair 111 again off of Kennedy.28
Hampton Associated Controller (speaking to Hampton controller): Try Swissair 111 again, Gary.
Cape Associated Controller: Thanks, Bob.29
Step three: the Hampton air controller now twice tries to reach the plane, once by calling the name of the plane and announcing the radio frequency to be used for contact; then by calling the name and identifying who it is that is attempting to reach him:
Hampton Controller: Swissair 111. One twenty-eight seventy-five.
Swissair 111: [no response]
Hampton Controller: Swissair 111. Center.
Swissair 111: [no response]
Step four: having observed the failed exchange between the Hampton controller and the pilot, the Hampton associated controller now reports the unhappy result to the Cape associated controller:
Cape Associated Controller: Ya. Go ahead.
Hampton Associated Controller: Negative joy on that Swissair.30
Cape Associated Controller: O.K., then. Thanks.31
Although Swissair 111 is still in the air, it has lost radio contact.

Swissair 111—off the air for a total of thirteen minutes—eventually does get back in contact with the air controller. The pilot's voice first comes through not at the air controller station at Hampton, Cape Cod, or Nantucket but at Augusta, Maine. The Augusta air controller at first believes he is receiving a call from a different Swissair plane (flight 104), one that is flying in the Augusta region airspace; but he quickly corrects himself and swiftly relays to the Swissair 111 pilot the frequency on which he should contact Boston:
Swissair 111: Boston Center, Swissair 111 heavy.32
Augusta Air Controller: Is that Swissair 104?
Swissair 111: Negative. This is Swissair 111...[Here Swissair 111 and Swissair 104 begin to speak simultaneously.]
Augusta Air Controller: Stand by, Swissair 104. Swissair 111, Boston Center.
Swissair 111: Boston Center, Swissair 111. Go ahead.
Augusta Air Controller: Swissair 111, contact Boston Center, one three three point four five. [frequency 133.45]
Swissair 111: Three three four five. Swissair 111.33
The time is 8:47.34 A moment later, at 8:48, Swissair 111 successfully contacts Boston's Nantucket sector:
Swissair 111: Boston Center. Swissair 111 heavy.
Nantucket Air Controller: I'm sorry. Who was that last call?
Swissair 111: Boston Center, Swissair 111 heavy is calling 133.45.
Nantucket Air Controller: Swissair 111. Boston Center, roger. How do you read?
Swisssair 111: I read you loud and clear. Go ahead.
Nantucket Air Controller: Swissair 111. Climb to flight level two niner zero. Higher shortly.
Swissair 111: Level two niner zero. Swissair 111.35
Other than the spirited inquiry about legibility—"How do you read? I read you loud and clear"—the air controller and pilot do not stop to welcome one another back or to discuss the previous radio blackout. They at once turn to the business at hand, the resumption of the scheduled climb to 33,000 feet that had been interrupted at 27,000 feet when the radio transmissions were suspended. The confident tone and the reassuringly professional procedure of information given (two niner zero) and repeated (two niner zero) continue over a sequence of exchanges about altitude and radio frequency until 8:58, when the Nantucket controller passes the plane on to the Moncton controller in Canada. Radio contact has been restored; a normal flight has been regained; the events of the previous quarter-hour now seem—and may actually only be—an uneventful anomaly, a passing fluke. But before too many more minutes pass, a lethal set of events—as we now know—will begin to take place; and the possibility exists that the fatal sequence of events is linked to the earlier events, that the electrical and radio systems36 of Swissair 111 were already under strain37 and that although the relatively new plane was able for a time to withstand, or compensate for, whatever was affecting it, eventually it lost the capacity to do so.


Two questions are raised by the thirteen-minute blackout. First, is the blackout related to the final set of catastrophic events? Second, if the blackout is related to the final catastrophe, does that tell us anything about whether the problem originates from a source inside or outside the plane? It tells us that external, as well as internal, causes need to be scrutinized. The fact that Swissair 111 begins to have radio trouble at the time when, and place where, TWA 800 suffered its swift catastrophe increases our obligation to include external agents in the overall inquiry.  Almost as mysterious as the thirteen-minute silence of the pilots is the silence of the FAA and our country's Safety Board after the accident. What can account for their not having reported to the public the radio troubles suffered by Swissair 111 as it progressed along the southern shore of Long Island (where its sister plane had fallen in an earlier summer) and up the sea lanes running beside New England? Why was it important to confine the accident to Canadian airspace and Canadian waters in the public imagination?
38

Common sense presses us to consider the possibility that the thirteen-minute radio blackout may bear on what by 9:14 had become a swiftly accelerating electrical catastrophe. So, too, does certain supplementary information. First, it is highly unlikely to be the case that the pilot simply dialed the wrong frequency when his plane was handed off from the Hampton to the Cape sector: as noted earlier, the pilot reads back the correct Cape frequency when the Hampton controller gives it to him; further, pilots have multiple radio screens and leave one tuned on the old frequency.  Second, it cannot be the case that the pilot, distracted by a meal or a book or a conversation or an extraordinary cloud formation, simply "forgot" that he was in the midst of a climb or that he was passing though one of the busiest corridors in the world. The voice of this pilot, both before the blackout and once his radio returns, is professional, crisp, quick: he consistently responds to each air controller's call a split second after he receives it, and often recites back the information in the precise order in which it has been given. One Swissair official has said that of 450 pilots who fly the MD-11, this particular pilot was considered one of the top five.
39 Captain Urs Zimmermann's professional reputation and voice signature alone should persuade us that he was incapable of "neglecting" air traffic communication. But if more evidence is needed, there is the MD-11's sophisticated data recorder which registers whenever a pilot attempts to key into the communication system: it shows that during the thirteen-minute blackout, the pilots of Swissair 111 made repeated attempts to initiate radio contact.40  Third, it cannot be the case that either United States or Swiss flight procedures permit such a blackout to pass with a complacent shrug or a bemused scratch of the head. In 1990, the US House of Representatives held a hearing on Pilot/Air Traffic Controllers Communication Issues. The hearings enumerated twelve kinds of communication error and the potentially fatal consequences of even the most seemingly minor of them (such as two people attempting to speak at the same time for several seconds). The twelve kinds of problem had earlier been outlined by a 1988 aviation industry report entitled A Call to Action. Included are such problems as an air controller using an abbreviation that could stand for two different planes; a pilot's accent making it hard for the air controller to determine whether he has accurately understood the instruction; and a "blocked" line occurring when one pilot attempts to use a frequency shared with other pilots, one of whom is at that moment already speaking. At several points the report specifies with alarm the duration of a given problem, and it is never close to Swissair 111's thirteen-minute blackout: frequency blockage "for several minutes" is cited as though a self-evidently alarming situation; a "stuck mike"41 that lasted for "five minutes" is a second example; radio contact lost for twenty miles (two or three minutes in a commercial plane) is a third example. If several minutes or two minutes or five minutes of lost communication requires an industry "call to action" and hearings before the House of Representatives, how can a thirteen-minute gap be considered a problem too minor even to mention in the press in the United States? How can it be too minor to mention when it—unlike the shorter communication blackouts cited in the congressional hearings—was prelude to a fatal plane crash?

3.


TWA 800 and Swissair 111, then, share at least five features: (1) a grave electrical accident, (2) a so far indecipherable cause, (3) a takeoff from the same airport and a route across the same geography, (4) a takeoff on the same minute of the day and day of the week, and (5) the malfunctioning of its radios beginning at almost the same time (somewhere in the three-minute interval between 8:31 and 8:34).
42  Should these five features be seen as extraneous, a set of interesting but ultimately insignificant coincidences? Or are they instead features that together expose the cause of the accidents? Either answer could be correct. The only way to learn which is accurate is to investigate the second possibility with the greatest possible rigor and speed. Has the United States investigative team (the American researchers who are assisting the primarily Canadian investigation) under-taken to reconstruct the external environment through which Swissair 111 flew? There is, to date, no public sign of any such reconstruction. If United States investigators wait until every possible internal cause has been explored before they begin to look at the external possibilities, will it be possible to construct an accurate and complete record of that external environment? The memories of air control-lers, pilots in the area, and seamen are clearer today than they will be in two years: their assistance in reconstructing the external environment should therefore be sought today, not two years from today. External explanations need to be pursued for exactly the same reasons that internal explanations are already being urgently pursued: because there is an absolute need to know the cause of these two isolated catastrophes and because there is an absolute need to prevent other planes from crashing. From what we know about the external environment, a sixth feature shared by TWA 800 and Swissair 111 begins to come into view. The two planes attempted to make their flights on an evening when military craft were in the air or sea below. The route from JFK International Airport east along the southern coast of Long Island and north past the New England shoreline requires any plane on its way to northern Europe to thread its way through a ribbon of air that is skirted on one side or the other by military warning zones. The boundaries of each zone are marked on aviation maps and labeled with the letter "W" followed by a number.43 Where the map has room, a printed sentence appears inside the zone: "Warning: National Defense Operations Area, Operations hazardous to the flight of aircraft conducted within this area."44  Such military warning zones are, of course, often unused by the military, and during such unused periods can be entered by civilian flights. But the record of scheduled military exercises shows plans for air and sea activities in the week during which Swissair 111 attempted its flight, just as the equivalent record from two years earlier shows planned exercises during the week of TWA 800's flight.45 This may be why Swissair 111, like TWA 800 earlier, had been directed onto the Bette route in traveling east out of New York, for this route is assigned when the military exercise zones south and southeast of Long Island, called W-105 and W-106, are in use by the military.46


The list of ships and planes in the external environment (along with the already-known location of all ground transmitters) needs to be reconstructed swiftly and accurately by those who have both the authority and obligation to carry out this task, the United States' National Transportation Safety Board, and not by isolated citizens working through Freedom of Information inquiries. The Freedom of Information procedure is an inspired United States invention, but it allows only a piecemeal picture to come into place, and that only over many slow months. At present, however, Freedom of Information inquiries appear to be the only path of reconstruction available to us; so let us look at what they let us know about the September 2-September 3, 1998, period.  In or near the warning areas skirting the Swissair 111 flight were three submarines: USS Connecticut (SSN-22), USS Dallas (SSN-700), and USS Billfish (SSN-676). The commander of Submarine Group Two from the Naval Submarine Base in New London, whose office provided the names of the submarines, states that these craft were each acting in isolation and not in exercises with other craft and therefore "will not assist you in your stated goal of discovering 'which exercises took place.'"
47 But at issue here is not armed exercises; at issue instead are electromagnetic transmissions (or any related phenomena such as radar decoys, or chaff): all communications between the submarines and both fixed and mobile transmitters need to be scrutinized, including, for example, the two-million-watt submarine transmitter at Corbett, Maine. Whether any submarine transmitters were close to the plane, and, if so, whether their signals were strong enough to adversely affect the plane are among the many questions that need to be answered.

Potentially important to the inquiry is the record of flights by the Navy P3 planes, which are stationed at Brunswick, Maine. On the earlier night when TWA 800 fell, a P3 had crossed the plane's path fifteen seconds before TWA 800 lost its transponder, voice recorder, and data recorder. (The P3 itself, though it had a safe flight, reported on its return that it lost the use of various pieces of electrical equipment during the flight.) The record for the evening on which Swissair 111 flew has some similarity. According to written documents provided by the Commander Naval Air Forces, Atlantic Fleet, three P3s were in flight during the hour and fifteen minutes when Swissair 111 made its way east along Long Island and north along the New England coast.
48 Two of the three were from Patrol Squadron 26, a squadron called the Tridents (named after the three-pronged spear used by the sea god Neptune). The Navy P3 that flew within one mile of TWA 800 was also from Patrol Squadron 26.49  The third P3 in the air on the night of Swissair 111's passage was a P3 from Patrol Squadron 10, the Red Lancers, whose insignia is a pair of lightning bolts.50 This type of P3 carries more high-powered transmitters than the Squadron 26 planes, and may be closer to an EP-3 or electronic warfare plane.51 (Its surveillance capacities were widely described during the Kosovo conflict: each time we heard that our planes could identify a plane sitting on the ground from an altitude of 27,000 feet, identify a bicycle leaning against a wall from 20,000 feet, and differentiate species of grass from 10,000 feet, it was Red Lancer P-3s from Squadron 10 in Brunswick, Maine, that were being described.52 )


The relation between the P3s from Squadron 26 and the P3s from Squadron 10 is perhaps illuminated by an incident that occurred on the afternoon of the day Swissair 111 attempted its evening flight. A regular P3 from Squadron 26 flying in military exercise zone W-104 (off the coast of Massachusetts) reports in its mission statement that it had to leave the exercise area one half hour earlier than planned because of the presence of a P3 from Squadron 10 (the warning zone covers hundreds of square miles so it is unclear why it could not accommodate two P3s). The pilot's mission statement does not explain why the presence of the Red Lancer plane necessitated his own departure, but he does report that his plane "lost" its UHF and VHF radios, as well as an instrument that informs the crew when they are positioned over a particular sonobuoy. How it lost its two radios and its On Top Position Indicator (OTPI), and whether that loss is connected to its having operated near the P3 from Squadron 10, are matters that need to be clarified. It is, of course, the three P3s that were flying at the same time as Swissair 111, rather than these flights that took place a few hours earlier, that are of primary importance.  The possibility of electronic warfare practice is suggested by several items in the Navy record. A document called the "Fleet Area Control and Surveillance Facility,"
53 which summarizes the military exercises on the eastern seaboard in the first week of September 1998, explicitly announces Electric Counter Measures and Electric Counter-Counter Measures operations during the week and includes among "Weekly Notes" a memo on the need to "submit a small scale E[lectric]C[ounter]M[easure] Notification" in accordance with Navy rules. One such electronic warfare exercise, for example, is specified for the night of September 2, the night Swissair 111 flew, in military exercise zone W-72 off the coast of Virginia from 10:00 PM to 12:00 AM.54  All three P3s were on several-hour-long missions, and therefore could have been very far from, or, instead, near to, the path of Swissair 111.55 Where they were is one of many questions that need to be answered with precision and care.

I hope the National Transportation Safety Board is already at work to reconstruct the external environment of planes, ships, and ground transmitters
56 along the route of Swissair 111; or if it is not already, will undertake such a reconstruction soon; and that it will enlist the assistance of the Joint Spectrum Center and NASA in determining the power levels both at the moment the flight first lost radio contact and at later moments along the route. Relevant, too, will be the record of other flights that have lost radio contact in this same geographical region. In addition to reconstructing the electromagnetic environment of each plane that suffers a fatal fall, a related form of scrutinizing the environment has been suggested by D.V. Giri, who specializes in applied electromagnetics, including EMP (electromagnetic pulse), HPM (high-powered microwave), UWB (ultrawide band systems), and lightning.57 Mr. Giri suggests that the NTSB could enlist NASA's modified F-106B to assess the environment.58 Elaborately equipped to measure lightning strikes and coronas, the airborne laboratory could make a series of test flights from JFK along the Bette route, experimenting with various takeoff times and speeds. The test plane (if suitably modified for sensitivity to radio transmissions rather than lightning) could conceivably discover a single transmitter, or a complex ar-ray of transmitters, that may be producing the adverse electromagnetic environment.


This essay has shown eight features shared by TWA 800 and Swissair 111: (1) they took off from the same airport; (2) they took off on a Wednesday at 8:19; (3) they traveled along the Bette route; (4) they both had their first signs of trouble in the same region of airspace between twelve and fourteen minutes into the flight; (5) they both appear to have suffered an electrical catastrophe; (6) they both suffered a catastrophe whose cause remains mysterious, even after years of rigorous inquiry; (7) they both flew during a week when extensive military exercises were being conducted; (8) they both flew when certain specific transmitters (submarines, the Navy P3s) appear to have been in the region. These overlaps may implicate the external environment. If two planes suffered a mysterious electrical catastrophe but had taken off from different cities, traveled along different routes at different times, and had their first trouble one after twelve minutes and the other after one hundred minutes, it would still be crucial to reconstruct the electromagnetic environment and include it among the pos-sible causes to be investigated. (Electromagnetic interference, as stated at the outset, can just as easily happen at irregular as at regular times and places, though the irregularity of the external environment makes it harder to discern that the external environment is playing a part). But to have two electrical accidents and also to have them share many key features of time and place should surely accelerate the inquiry into the external environment. Rusty Yeiser, a retired naval aviator and former commander of the Joint Spectrum Center who oversaw the Center's analysis of TWA 800's electromagnetic environment, believes that other accidents would benefit from similar analyses. He recently said:
Aircraft electronic systems (often referred to today as "avionics") continue to grow more and more complex, and are increasingly relied upon for safety of flight functions (including flight control, navigation and communicating, and data storage and retrieval). Given this, it would seem reasonable that a comprehensive examination of the external electromagnetic environment should become a routine component of commercial aircraft accident investigations conducted by the NTSBor other similar national organizations abroad. The Joint Spectrum Center's core capability for analysis of electromagnetic interference lends itself directly to this type of task.59
Physical events, as has often been observed, tend to outpace our ability to describe them. While the present essay on TWA 800 and Swissair 111 was being written, a third large passenger plane entered the Atlantic Ocean south of Long Island, a third large passenger plane that—as in the other two cases—fell without any discernible mechanical cause. There are factors which differentiate EgyptAir 990 from the two earlier flights (it did not take off on a Wednesday at 8:19) but also key factors that link them.

The second part of this article will look at EgyptAir 990, as well as at the important, but incomplete, work that has so far been carried out on TWA 800.
          
 
1 Matthew L. Wald, "Flight 800 Report Not Expected to Pinpoint Crash's Exact Cause," The New York Times, August 15, 2000, p. A23; Pete Donohue, "Flt. 800 Report Won't Cite Cause," New York Daily News, August 18, 2000; Laurence Zuckerman, "US Reviews Draft Report on T.W.A. Crash," The New York Times, August 23, 2000, p. A19.

2 NTSB Chairman Jim Hall outlined these steps in a July 8, 1998, letter, printed in The New York Review, August 13, 1998. The article I wrote on the subject in The New York Review and the correspondence that followed were published in the issues of April 9, July 16, and August 13, 1998. These were forwarded by the Safety Board to the Joint Spectrum Center when the Safety Board engaged the Center's assistance (conversations with Commander John Mahoney of Joint Spectrum Center, September 1998, November 1998, January 1999). NASA's formal report opens by briefly describing the New York Review articles and correspondence (J. Ely, T. Nguyen, K. Dudley, S. Scearce, F. Beck, M. Desphande, C. Cockrell, "Investigation of Electromagnetic Field Threat to Fuel Tank Wiring of a Transport Aircraft," NASA/TP-2000-209867, March 2000, p. 1).

3 Joint Spectrum Center, Department of Defense, "TWA Flight 800 Electromagnetic Environment," (Project Engineer, Richard DeSalvo; Consulting Engineers, Martin Macrae, Douglas Hughes), January 1999. In the NTSB's accident inquiry documents, the report is Docket No. SA-516, Exhibit No. 9A. Addendum 2, "Concerning Electromagnetic Environment."

4 During this time, NASA studied not only the external transmitters that could have affected the plane, but passenger-carried devices such as cell phones and computers. As their study points out, such devices are often operating several inches away from wires running through the passenger cabin wall.

5 NASA scientists studied one possible path of interference-induced ignition: they looked at the way external signals could affect a particular wire (the fuel quantity indicator wire) that runs into the central fuel tank. As will be elaborated at a later point, NASA concluded that the external emitters listed by the Joint Spectrum Center could have at most introduced 0.1 millijoule of energy into this wire, and that a minimum of 0.2 millijoules is required to produce ignition. (J. Ely, et al., "Investigation of Electromagnetic Field Threat to Fuel Tank Wiring of a Transport Aircraft," p. 39.) NASA, however, provided a second, supplementary paper to accompany the first that calls into question the accuracy, and even the applicability, of the 0.2 millijoule standard "when considering radio frequency (RF) sources." The report outlines four categories of work that needs to be done to develop an accurate standard for RF sources. (Franklin A. Fisher, "Some Notes on Sparks and Ignition of Fuels," NASA/TM-2000-210077, pp. 1, 34)

6 According to Vic Gerden, lead investigator of the Swissair 111 accident for the Transportation Safety Board of Canada, investigators have to date found twenty wires running into the cockpit—some from the entertainment system and some from flight-related systems—that suffered "arcing" (telephone conversation, June 29, 2000). Arcing is a hot and persistent form of electrical sparking across a gap between two conductors; it can damage both the wire in which it occurs as well as the electrical devices to which it is connected. The Canadian Safety Board is trying to determine whether the arcing took place at an early or a late moment in the sequence of events. It is known that some of Swissair 111's electrical systems ceased functioning six minutes before the plane crashed into the ocean, but whether all five of the plane's systems (three main electrical systems and two auxiliary systems) failed has not yet been determined (Gerden, June 29, 2000). Both Vic Gerden and Boeing's safety spokesman have consistently stated that the accident, though so far indecipherable in origin, appears to be electrical in nature. (For accounts of the electrical nature of the Swissair 111 accident, see also Paul Koring's 1998 articles in Toronto's The Globe and Mail, September 8, 10, 11, 16; October 5; and November 21, 1998.)
The simultaneous cessation of apparently independent systems also occurred in the TWA 800 accident. The NTSB "Systems Group Chairman's Factual Report of Investigation" states: "The electrically driven altimeters of the Captain and First Officer were found to display 13,820 and 13,800 feet, respectively," even though "wiring schematics showed the two altimeters to be powered by separ-ate sources on different wings"; the transponder stopped at the same moment as the altimeters; the cockpit voice recorder and flight data recorder also stopped within a quarter-second of one another (Robert L. Swaim, Docket No. SA-516, Exhibit No. 9A, p. 6).

7 The two locations—TWA 800's fuel tank and Swissair 111's entertainment system—have both been given much attention in the press. But they have been given different importance by the United States and the Canadian safety boards. The United States National Transportation Safety Board believes, with a high degree of certainty, that the central fuel tank is the site of TWA 800's trouble; the officials of the Transportation Safety Board of Canada have repeatedly stated that damaged wiring connected to the entertainment system is not, in their view, a special suspect in determining the cause of the crash of Swissair 111. The system's wiring is not ruled out as a cause, but neither is the wiring from any other source.

8 This number is based on figures provided in the Department of Commerce's Statistical Abstract of the United States: National Data Book (1998, 118th edition), chart 1070, "US Scheduled Airline Industry-Summary: 1985 to 1996," p. 655. The last year for which the number of departures is specified is 1996 when the figure is 8,227,900 departures.

9 According to the Statistical Abstract of the United States there are 18,292 airports in operation in the United States; 5,129 of them are public (Chart No. 1080, "Civil Flying: Summary 1970 to 1996," p. 659).

10 Counting only the minutes between 6:00 AM and 9:00 PM, when most plane departures occur, there were 6,300 different minutes at which the two planes might have taken off in a given week.

11 The 8:19 PM departure time for Swissair 111 was announced by Terry Benczik, spokesperson for the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, and was widely cited (The New York Times, September 3, 1998, p. A1; National Public Radio Morning Edition, September 3, 1998). TWA 800 is usually also described as taking off at 8:19. But media reports of both Swissair 111's departure time and of TWA 800's departure time vary back and forth between 8:18 and 8:19. They do so in part because the official documents themselves vary: for example, the fall of TWA 800 into the sea at 8:31 is alternately described in NTSB documents as taking place twelve minutes and thirteen minutes "into the flight," which would place takeoff at 8:19 in the first instance and 8:18 in the second. (See, for example, "Flight Data Recorder [FDR] Group Chairman's Factual Report: Revision 1" [February 15, 2000], Docket No. 5A-516, Exhibit 10A, p. 2.) Such variation occurs in part because "takeoff" can be understood to take place at four distinct temporal moments: (1) the moment the plane is cleared for takeoff; (2) the moment the plane begins rolling down the runway; (3) the moment the plane lifts off the ground; (4) the moment the airborne plane passes through the departure gate at JFK airport. TWA 800, according to data recorders, was rolling down the runway at 8:18 PM, and lifting off the ground at 8:19 PM. Since the Swissair 111 accident happened much more recently than the TWA 800 accident, its data recorders are not yet in the public record (four years after the TWA 800 crash, its fully revised record became available). But the transcript of spoken conversation between the pilots and various ground and departure gate controllers suggests that as the two planes proceeded through the four stages of takeoff listed above, they were usually within sixty to ninety seconds of one another. (Because neither pilot verbally comments on the moment of liftoff, it is omitted in the sequence that follows.) Swissair 111 is rolling down the runway at 8:17:08 PM and TWA 800 at 8:18:20 PM; Swissair 111 is passing through the JFK departure gate a few seconds before 8:19 and TWA 800 passes through the gate at 8:20:20 PM; Swissair 111 is "handed off" or transferred from the JFK departure gate controller to the Boston controller at 8:22:24 PM and TWA 800 passes this same point at 8:23:20 PM (FAA Transcript of Swissair 111 Pilot Conversation with Ground, Local, and De-parture Gate Controllers, obtained through the author's Freedom of Information request; and Transcript and Analysis of TWA 800 Cockpit Voice Recorder in NTSB Accident Inquiry Documents, James Cash, "Factual Report of Investigation Cockpit Voice Recorder," p. 4).

12 Conversation with Ron Brewer, expert on EMC (electromagnetic compatibility) systems design, October 1998.

13 It is also, of course, possible that they encountered fatal signals from the same mobile or fixed transmitter but at different times, TWA 800 somewhere between 8:19 and 8:31, when it lost all electrical power; and Swissair 111 somewhere between 8:19 and 9:14, when it announced smoke in the cockpit.

14 Each of these events is compatible with electromagnetic interference, as well as with other possible causes. (Once the fire was underway, it could itself have been the cause of the generation of anomalous data; at issue is the cause of the fire.) Because the events have features that appear to suggest a powerful electrical event, the Canadian Safety Board (which is investigating many possible causes) has looked closely at the question of a lightning strike, as did investigators in the TWA 800 case, who discovered there had been no lightning strike within a 300-mile radius of the plane (Docket No. SA-516, Exhibit No. 5-A, p. 5). Articles that describe the generation of false data by Swissair 111's onboard computers include Don Phillips, The Washington Post, September 12, 1998, and Anthony de Palma, "Frantic Swissair Pilots Got Faulty Data," The New York Times, September 13, 1998, p. 52. It is important to stress that, according to Vic Gerden of the Canadian Safety Board, the generation of false data lasted for only ninety seconds prior to the moment when the plane's electrical systems (including its data recorder) shut down.

15 For accounts of the MD-11's capacity for self-diagnosis and self-repair, see Aviation Week & Space Technology, October 22, 1990, p. 45; The Washington Post, June 18, 1989, p. A3; and Bulletin of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, June 30, 1989, p. 1532.

16 The following reconstruction draws together eight separate but overlapping FAA tapes from five different radar sectors in the first forty-five minutes of Swissair 111's September 2, 1998, flight. The tapes were obtained (May 19, 1999) through a Freedom of Information request originally filed November 1998 and re-requested (after denial) on April 21, 1999. The citation of radio transcripts is not meant to suggest that air controllers ought to have known that grave trouble lay ahead; it is instead meant to suggest that once a catastrophe has occurred, it is important to look back at the transcript to learn the precise location in which a problem first surfaces.

17 "Boston" followed by a series of numbers means, "Contact the next Boston controller on the following frequency."

18 Minute 8:33 on FAA Tape for Hampton Radar Sector for September 2, 1998, 8:23 to 8:45 Eastern Daylight Time. "Swissair 111 Aircraft incident, 9/3/98 at 0131 UTC ZBW, Sec 31R, A/G, Ch 03, 0023-0045 UTC [12:23 to 12:45 Universal Time Coordinated], 'Cert Rerec' [contains the name of an FAA official certifying that the tape is an accurate re-recording], Tp 503, FOIA 1999-001839NE [identification number of Freedom of Information request that prompted the sending of the tape]. The eight FAA tapes all use this form of titling, but will be given below in abbreviated form. Universal Coordinated Time is used by the FAA as well as by the military and is sometimes called "Zulu time": it is the time at the Greenwich meridian and is four hours ahead of the time on the east coast of the United States and three hours ahead of the time in Nova Scotia. In this tape, therefore, the time of the recording starts at twenty-three minutes after midnight on September 3 (and the accident itself takes place at 1:31 AM on September 3). This essay consistently uses Eastern Daylight Time even when referring to events that took place in Canada, where the clock time was one hour later

19 "Center" is a terse form of self-identification: "This is Boston Center calling you."

20 Minute 8:34 on FAA Tape for Hampton Radar Sector.

21 Commercial planes carry multiple radios, only one of which is used for communication with controllers.

22 There is nothing on the air controller tapes to suggest that at any point Swissair 111 disappears from radar. Had that happened, the disappearance would have been registered in the controllers' verbal statements to one another and recorded on the voice tapes. At one point, the visibility of the plane on radar is explicitly acknowledged by a Nantucket associated controller (see note 35 below). One other spoken confirmation of Swissair 111's visibility is more ambiguous. The Atlantic controller (who assists planes over the ocean that have not yet reached the coastline) is bringing American Flight 1829 into Bradley International Airport in Hartford, Connecticut, and is, on the basis of consultation with the Boston controllers, having him fly at 27,000 feet. The Atlantic controller calls the Boston controller at Hampton associate position and says, "You wanted him [American 1829] down to twenty-seven. I see someone else out there at twenty-seven," after which the two controllers agree to change American 1829's altitude to 26,000 feet. The unnamed "someone else out there at twenty-seven" may well be Swissair 111 which is indeed flying at 27,000 feet (because his scheduled climb to 33,000 feet was interrupted by the radio blackout) (Minute 8:40 on FAA Tape for Hampton Associate Controller).

23 Which of the eight FAA tapes is being quoted will usually be clear from the context (here, for example, the FAA tape for the Cape radar sector). But because some of the exchanges occur on two different tapes, citations will continue to be given in the notes.

24 Minute 8:36 on FAA Tape for Cape Controller (covering the 8:31 to 8:44 period).

25 At each radar sector there is both an air controller and an associated air controller. The associated air controller monitors the exchanges taking place between the controller and the area pilots; sometimes he or she contacts the controller to give advice based either on observation or on information coming in from other radar sectors. For each FAA tape from a radar sector such as Hampton, Cape, or Nantucket, there is a second taped voice record of the associated controller. These tapes overlap, but are not identical, with the controller's tape since they contain not only pilot-controller exchanges but conversations between controllers and associated controllers, as well as voices coming in from other radar sectors.

26 This exchange at 8:36 is recorded on two tapes, the tape for the Hampton associated air controller (covering the interval 8:31-8:45) and the tape for the Cape controller.

27 Bradd is a map point along the ocean flight path.

28 The phrase "Swissair 111...off of Kennedy" means "the Swissair plane that a short time ago took off from JFK International Airport."

29 This exchange occurs at 8:39 PM on two FAA tapes, that for the Hampton associated controller and that for the Cape associated controller (covering the 8:31 to 8:44 PM interval).

30 The phrase "negative joy" often means "no success." In this case, what is "negated" appears to be both the substantive outcome of the undertaking (Swissair 111 was not reached) and the state of pleasure that would have come with reporting a positive outcome. It seems to have a meaning close to the following: "Of the two possible outcomes of my inquiry, the result is not the one hoped for."

31 A moment later one hears the voice of the [Cape] associated controller saying to a colleague: "...filing that? Looks like they're filing that." The fact that this statement comes almost immediately after the report of the failure to reach Swissair 111 suggests that one of the supervisors may be filing a formal record of the failure; but the exchange is much too abbreviated to be clear, and could have a different meaning altogether. In a letter replying to the author's inquiry, FAA regional administrator Robert Bartanowicz states that there is no formal filing in the Boston office (July 29, 1999).

32 It is hard to be certain from the tape whether the pilot uses here the word "heavy," a term that indicates a large passenger or cargo plane, or the word "heading."

33 FAA Tape for Augusta, Maine, Radar Sector (covering the interval 8:41 to 8:53 PM). It is conventional practice for pilots to drop the digit "one" when repeating back the frequency to the air controller, as the Swissair 111 pilot does here in the final line quoted.

34 Swissair 111 actually first appears on the FAA tape of the Augusta Controller Center one minute earlier at 8:46; but the transmission is not completely clear and perhaps because the plane is not yet in the Augusta region, the air controller—who at that moment is in conversation with another plane—does not hear the call. The Augusta controller's conversation with that other plane appears to contain a question about intentional interference directed at that plane: "South Cat 4 what is your heading right now?" After South Cat 4 answers, the Augusta air controller asks, "Are their [or there] aircraft planning on sending you a block?" The pilot does not respond.

35 FAA Tape for Nantucket (covering the 8:42 to 9:04 PM Eastern Daylight Time interval). As mentioned earlier, Swissair 111 has throughout its flight been steadily visible on the air controllers' radar screens; and the plane can now be seen by the Nantucket controller. This conclusion is an inference based on the absence of the severe alarm that would have been audible on the tapes had Swissair 111 ever lost not only its radio but its secondary radar. But explicit confirmation occurs at 8:54 and 8:55 when the Nantucket associated controller and another controller go over a checklist of the planes visible on radar. Each time one controller says the name of a plane and its altitude, the other controller confirms its visibility by saying the word "Radar." Swissair 111 is among the planes announced during this roll call (FAA Tape for Nantucket Associate Position, covering the period 8:48 to 9:01 PM Eastern Daylight Time).

36 Since a plane has so many backup radios, the loss of all radios for even three or four minutes is, according to Joe Como, a spokesman for the Airlines Pilots Association, highly unusual, and almost never happens without other things also being wrong (conversation with Joe Como, June 1999, describing radio blackouts in general, not Swissair 111 in particular).

37 The plane's systems would be strained (to take one of many possible examples) if some, or all, of the arcing found by the Canadian Transportation Safety Board in twenty wires took place at the moment radio contact was first lost (8:33 PM). It is also possible that the arcing occurred not at the initial moment of loss of radio contact but soon afterward, as attempts were made—either by the pilots or by the automated repair systems within the plane itself—to reactivate the radios (between 8:34 and 8:46). The arcing may also, of course, have taken place late in the flight, around the time the cockpit began to fill with smoke (9:14), or ten minutes later, when anomalies first appeared on the data recorder (9:24), or ninety seconds later when the radio, transponder, and many electrical systems all simultaneously failed (9:26), six minutes before the plane entered the sea (9:31 PM).
Sometimes arcing events are self-announcing: they set off circuit breakers and shut down electrical systems. But other times their work is quieter. Testifying about wiring problems before the Transportation Committee in the House of Representatives, Captain Paul McCarthy, the Executive Air Safety Chairman of the Airline Pilots Association, described a phenomenon known as the "ticking fault." The arcing event takes place in milliseconds, releasing high amounts of heat, but acting so quickly that the protective circuit breakers have no time to work (Prepared Testimony of Captain Paul McCarthy before the Transportation and Infrastructure Committee, Subcommittee on Oversight, Investigations and Emergency Management, House of Representatives, September 15, 1999).

38 "There's nothing significant on those tapes. This [the fall of Swissair 111] is a Canadian problem," said one FAA official to the author.

39 Captain Christian Stuessi, Swissair's chief of pilots, quoted in the San Diego Union Tribune, December 18, 1998.

40 Canadian Transportation Safety Board head Vic Gerden, telephone conversation, June 29, 2000.

41 The term means that the pilot's mike accidentally becomes stuck in an "on" position that lets that pilot speak but prevents any other pilot or air controller from using the frequency. (This clearly does not describe what happened in the case of Swissair 111, since other pilots were able to continue communicating and the Swissair 111 pilot was not able to do so.)

42 The two planes would have been in approximately the same location at the first moment of failed radio contact—in the narrow corridor south of Long Island and north of military exercise area W-105 and W-
106. Both planes were starting into a climb but were at different altitudes.

43 When the military warning zone occurs inside US territory—either on land or on ocean waters directly touching the coastline—the letter "R" for "Restricted" is used, for example, to denote a circle of airspace around Camp David.

44 The sentence is printed, for example, inside warning areas W-103, W-104, W-105, and W-506 on the "World Aeronautical Chart" for the New York-New England area (Section map CF-19), (Department of Commerce: Washington, D.C., 1997).

45 "Fleet Area Control and Surveillance Facility, Virginia Capes (FACSFAC VACAPES) Message, 26 August 1998" (giving day-by-day outline of planned exercises along the Atlantic seaboard for week of August 31- September 5, 1998); and "Fleet Area Control and Surveillance Facility, Virginia Capes (FACSFAC VACAPES) Message, July 15-20, 1996" (again giving day-by-day outline of planned exercises).

46 Confirmation that Swissair 111 traveled on the Bette route is present in four documents: the Flight Progress Slip, the transcript of conversation between the pilot and "clearance delivery" controller at the airport prior to takeoff, the transcript of conversation between the air controller in the Kennedy tower and the New York air controller in Sector 57, and the transcript of conversation between the pilot and the Kennedy tower departure controller as the plane lifted into the air (Documents and letter responding to author's Freedom of Information request from Franklin D. Hatfield, Manager, Air Traffic Division, Eastern Region Air Traffic Division, FAA, JFK Airport, June 4, 1999).

47 Letter to author from W.A. Peters, Captain, United States Navy, Chief of Staff for Commander Submarine Group Two, April 21, 1999.

48 Letter and accompanying documents from Mark E. Newcomb, Commander, JAGC, US Navy, Force Judge Advocate, by direction of the Commander Naval Air Force, United States Atlantic Fleet, Norfolk, Virginia, February 8, 1999.

49 Patrol Squadron 26, "Patron Twenty-Six Flight Schedule, Wednesday 02 September 1998," Event 4 (taking off at 4:50 and landing at 9:55), and Event 5 (taking off at 6:30 and landing at 9:55).

50 Patrol Squadron Ten, "Patron Ten Flight Schedule, Wednesday 02 September 1998," Event 8 (taking off from Brunswick, Maine, at 7:20 PM and landing back at Brunswick at 11:30 PM).

51 The electronic warfare EP-3s for the US East Coast and Europe have their home base in Rota, Spain, but sometimes operate out of Brunswick, Maine. According to a knowledgeable military expert, the surveillance equipment on Squadron 10 P3s may be "passive"and may not actively transmit signals that could be harmful to other planes; this is the kind of question that should be explored.

52 On the Red Lancer P3s' "multi-sensor surveillance payload" in Operation "Eagle Eye" in Kosovo see Jane's Navy International, Sept. 1, 1999; and International Defense Review, November 1, 1999; and on the reception of the Patrol Squadron 10s as returning war heroes, see Portland Press Herald, June 26, 1999, p. 2B, and August 10, 1999, p. 1B.

53 Virginia Capes (FACSFAC VACAPES) Messages 162000Z August 98, Item E.

54 The memo specifies the use of "two Lear [jets] with pods." On the day TWA 800 flew (July 17, 1996), an exercise was also scheduled in "W-72" involving "two Lears."

55 The package of documents sent by Commander Newcomb includes a schedule of flights that occurred during the hours Swissair 111 was in the air but not the mission statements from those flights (which often contain brief narratives of what occurred). He did, however, include a mission statement from a flight earlier in the day. If the three P3 flights that took place during Swissair 111's flight carried out missions like those that took place earlier that day, then zones W-104, W-105 and W-107 (as well as the civilian corridor running beside W-107) are the most likely locations. As the map on page 94 indicates, W-104 and W-105 are close to Swissair 111's flight path. Although W-107 is off the coast of southern New Jersey and therefore farther south, a plane traveling between the Brunswick, Maine, air base and W-107 might cross paths with a civilian flight coming out of JFK (as occurred in the case of TWA 800).

56 It is primarily the air- and seaborne craft that the NTSB needs to identify by further research, since the Joint Spectrum Center already has on file all the fixed ground transmitters along the American and Canadian seaboards. But because the Air Force and Navy sometimes carry out highly unusual experiments at these antenna sites involving transmitters that are not permanently installed (and therefore are not part of the fixed record), the NTSB should make specific inquiries about events taking place at these fixed sites as well.

57 At the October 1, 1999, sessions of the Technical Interchange Meeting held at the Nuclear ElectroMagneticPulse Laboratory of the Swiss Defense Procurement Agency in Spiez, Switzerland, Mr. Giri and his colleagues discussed the question of whether the Swissair 111 accident could have been caused by electromagnetic interference of unknown origin. Giri concentrated on the radio blackout and the overlaps in the timing of the Swissair 111 and TWA 800 flights. The consensus of the group was that this was a realistic possibility deserving further investigation.

58 D.V. Giri, conversations with author, September 1999, March 24, 2000. Although the F-106B is primarily used to test the effects of lightning, it has also been tested for high-altitude EMP (nuclear-electromagnetic pulse) effects. A particular sensor on the nose boom of the F-106B was designed by Mr. Giri (who has also designed microwave antennas and has helped to build EMP simulators in many different countries).

The modified F-106B has been described by pilots and scientists as a "flying laboratory" containing many measuring instruments in its weapons bay. It also has "sensors for measuring the current, the rate of change of current, and the rate of change of electric and magnetic fields" in the "nose, the vertical tail, under the forward and aft portions of the fuselage, at the base of the vertical tail, and under each wing." Though the plane is highly shielded, it has "a few internal wires" that can pick up induced voltages. (Felix Pitts, Bruce D. Fisher, Vladislav Mazur, Rodney Perala, "Aircraft Jolts from Lightning Bolts: A Milestone NASA Study Based on Actual Airplane Data Spurs the FAA to Set New Standards for Protecting Airborne Electronic Systems," IEEE Spectrum, July 1988, p. 36).

59 Conversation, August 20, 2000
 
 
 
 
October 5, 2000

THE FALL OF EGYPTAIR 990

ELAINE SCARRY
 


1.


On July 17, 1996, TWA 800 took off from JFK International Airport; twelve and a half minutes later, it fell into the ocean south of Long Island. On September 2, 1998, Swissair 111 took off from JFK Airport; fourteen minutes later it lost radio contact with air controllers; it continued flying north, eventually regained radio power, reported smoke in the cockpit as it neared Nova Scotia, then fell into the Atlantic Ocean. On October 31, 1999, EgyptAir 990 took off from JFK Airport; it flew east for thirty-one minutes, then suddenly dove into the ocean east of Long Island, south of Nantucket. The 676 people on board the three planes perished. No other large passenger plane taking off in the United States crashed during this three years and three months period.

The uniformity of the region in which the accidents occurred suggests that the region itself—the environment external to the plane—should in each case be included among the causes to be investigated. Substantial studies by the Joint Spectrum Center and by the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) have gone a long way toward reconstructing the electromagnetic environment of the first accident; but the work on behalf of TWA 800 is still incomplete, and in the cases of Swissair 111 and EgyptAir 990 it has barely begun.

The need for an external reconstruction is suggested not only by the uniformity of the region in which the accidents have occurred, but by the absence of any definitive internal cause: TWA 800 is believed to have fallen as a result of a central fuel tank explosion, but the ignition source of that explosion has not been found. (At its hearing on the accident this August, the National Transportation Safety Board divided potential ignition sources into "likely" and "unlikely" and designated an electrical "short circuit" as the least unlikely; but investigators repeatedly acknowledged that they have not found definitive evidence of that short circuit or even a probable location.)

Swissair 111's fall is believed by both the Transportation Safety Board of Canada and Boeing to be electrical in origin, but no one system on the plane, or section of wiring, or even segment of the flight has as yet been ruled out as a cause. EgyptAir 990, according to the United States National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB), suffered no mechanical malfunction that can account for its sudden dive toward the ocean: the absence of a mechanical cause has been repeatedly cited by the Safety Board and by the press as evidence that one of the pilots must have intentionally chosen to kill himself and all his fellow travelers (a point that I will return to).


The first part of the present article
1 looked at the features shared by TWA 800 and Swissair 111. Each appears to have suffered an electrical catastrophe, but the cause of each crash has so far proven elusive. Each took off from JFK; each traveled east along Long Island on the "Bette" route (which lets planes avoid a region of ocean space, called W-105 and W-106, when it is reserved for military exercises); each took off on a Wednesday at 8:19 PM; each experienced its first difficulty twelve to fourteen minutes into the flight (a fatal difficulty for TWA 800, a radio difficulty of not-yet-understood gravity in the case of Swissair 1112 ); each flew during a week in which military exercises were scheduled; each flew on a night when submarines and Navy P3s were operating off the coast.

EgyptAir 990, like TWA 800 and Swissair 111, took off from JFK and crashed during the opening segment of its transatlantic journey. Like them, it suffered from a series of events that—as we will soon see—are compatible with an electrical accident.
3 But it should be stated from the outset that EgyptAir 990 does not share all the external features that overlap in the accidents of the other two planes. It took off in the middle of the night, at 1:19 AM on a Sunday, not on a Wednesday at 8:19 PM. It did not travel, as the other two did, on the Bette route, which hugs the Long Island coast in order to skirt the northern edge of military exercise zones W-105 and W-106. (These are zones that are identified on flight maps as follows: "Warning: National Defense Operating Areas, Operations hazardous to the flight of aircraft conducted within these areas.")

Map

EgyptAir 990, as the map shows, instead flew directly into and through military exercise zone W-106, and then crossed into exercise zone W-105, where it flew approximately 120 miles before diving irrevocably toward the sea. Its crash site lies deep within military exercise zone W-105.

When EgyptAir 990 left JFK Airport, it was initially assigned a route that would have taken it down and around the military exercise zone W-105, a route described by the air controller as "Shipp Linnd Lacks Dovey."
4 The four names indicate a sequence of ocean intersection points; and as the map shows, had EgyptAir 990 flown to Shipp, then Linnd, then Lacks, then Dovey, it would never have entered military zone W-105.5 But it is normal practice, once a plane is in flight, for air controllers along its path to give it a more direct route, if the shorter route is clear of traffic or, in the case of warning zones, if the zone has been released by the military to the FAA. By 1:35 AM EgyptAir 990 had passed through two New York radar sectors, Kennedy and Manta, and had arrived at the third, Atlantic, which monitors the opening section of a transatlantic flight. A few seconds before 1:36 AM the Atlantic controller cleared EgyptAir 990 to fly directly to ocean point Dovey, without first passing Linnd and Lacks:
Atlantic Controller: EgyptAir 990, climb and maintain flight level three three zero [33,000]. Cleared direct Dovey.
EgyptAir 990: Three three zero, direct Dovey, EgyptAir 990.
On the map, this is the moment where the plane, heading south toward Linnd, now abruptly turns east and begins to fly across the W-105 zone.


To many people—certainly to this writer—it seems common sense that when a civilian plane crashes, the number and nature of all electromagnetic transmitters in the area at the time of the crash should be quickly identified. It seems common sense that this should be an automatic practice, just as many other forms of evidence-gathering at once go into effect when a plane falls. (In the first installment of this article, the former director of the Defense Department's Joint Spectrum Center recommended that this be done.) When a civilian plane crashes in or near a military exercise zone, there is evidently all the more reason to ensure that such a comprehensive identification of transmitters be made.

No special trace of a maintenance problem, or a fuel problem, or a baggage compartment problem is needed to spur the NTSB to gather maintenance records, fuel samples, and the cargo manifest; the gathering of this material automatically begins the very day a large passenger plane falls. It should similarly not require special evidence or argument to ascertain the location of transmitters in the external environment.

The fact that EgyptAir 990 was permitted to fly through W-106 and W-105 should mean that no military exercises were occurring in those areas; and the NTSB has made available to the public the FAA daily logs which confirm that the military exercise zones were open to civilian flights during the hour (or what in the case of W-105 turned out to be a quarter of an hour) that EgyptAir 990 flew there. The NTSB has also made available to the public the record from Fleet Area Control and Surveillance Facility in Virginia Capes (this facility is often abbreviated FACFACS VaCapes, but it refers to itself throughout its own internal documents and its communications with the FAA as "GIANT KILLER").

The records of this facility show only one exercise scheduled in W-105 on October 31, much later in the day than the 1:19 AM flight. But the absence of scheduled military exercises does not guarantee that no military craft were in the corridors around the warning zones or inside the warning zones.
6 Military planes flying inside W-105 will not show up on FAA air controller tapes because at the point of entering the region they "go operational,"meaning they cease to be in communication with controllers. The possible dangers within the warning zones and corridors would arise not from munitions but from high-powered radar or other electromagnetic signals from fixed ground transmitters or from transmitters on craft passing through the area.

We already know (from news reports during the week immediately following the accident) that powerful Air Force radar antennas were tracking EgyptAir 990. Because these transmitters are designed to spot cruise missiles, they have capacities not shared by any civilian radars. A civilian radar can read the altitude of a plane only if that plane has a functioning transponder, the device that identifies the location of a plane. The Air Force antennas, in contrast, are designed to identify the altitude of a flying object, even when the flying object itself has no transponder, either because it wants to disguise its altitude (as in the case of a cruise missile or again in the case of a Navy or Air Force plane carrying out an exercise) or because it has lost the use of its transponder (as occurred in the case of EgyptAir 990, as well as TWA 800 and Swissair 111, before they crashed).

EgyptAir 990's dive into the sea took place in three phases: a plunge from 33,000 feet down to 16,000 feet, a sudden rise back up to 24,000 feet, then a final plunge to the bottom of the sea. EgyptAir 990 lost its transponder toward the bottom of its first dive. It is only because the aircraft was an object of scrutiny on the part of the Air Force antennas at Riverhead, Long Island, and Truro, Cape Cod, that we know about the last two segments of flight—the sudden rise and the final fall.
7 What other transmitters were observing EgyptAir 990, and what other transmitters were communicating with one another in the vicinity of EgyptAir 990, are questions that need to be answered.8

In recent years the military has increasingly attended to "littoral," or coastline, warfare, as opposed to warfare taking place on the open seas, the focus of military practice in an earlier period. One of the constant tasks of powerful military radars—those carried on Aegis cruisers, for example
9 —is perfecting their ability to track a small flying object and, crucially, to hold the image of that flying object distinct from "the clutter" of civilian coastline life. Inevitably, then, civilian planes are being monitored by such transmitters and antennas: they are part of the coastline clutter from which real targets must be differentiated. Under what circumstances, and during which periods, civilian flights become a special target of observation is a subject not widely discussed in the United States, and one that ought to be.10


It is not hard to think of reasons why EgyptAir 990 might have become an ordinary—or even an extra-ordinary—target of intense observation. EgyptAir 990 was, first of all, a foreign carrier from a country that is not always regarded as a close United States ally. Second, it was carrying, in addition to its civilian passengers, thirty-three Egyptian military officers, including one brigadier general.
11 During their visit to the United States, the thirty-three officers were, according to the Defense Department spokesman, Kenneth Bacon, subdivided into six distinct groups: the members of one group were here to study communications; a second group was testing recently purchased helicopters; the third group was here to receive "training on high frequency" equipment; the fourth group was learning about telecommunications; the fifth group was studying the repair of Chaparral missiles; the members of the sixth group were carrying out individual projects.12 Whatever their separate missions, they had all convened to take this particular flight for their return to Cairo.

A third possibility is that EgyptAir 990's passage through W-105 might have come as a surprise to the military and might therefore have provoked special attention. Any one of the three possibilities could have operated in isolation,
13 or in combination14 with one another. (And, of course, none of the three may have taken place: the plane may have been tracked by the Air Force radars simply because all civilian planes are at all times being similarly tracked.)

But what of the third possibility Ihave mentioned: What reason is there to think that EgyptAir 990 could have surprised military observers in the region (and therefore become a closely scrutinized object)? Just this: the flight surprised at least one civilian air controller that night. The automatic computer reports that would ordinarily have made EgyptAir 990's passage from one sector to the next wholly unsurprising for civilian controllers were not functioning flawlessly; perhaps the communications between civilian and military controllers were also flawed.

At the point where the plane was being handed off from the New York controller at Kennedy to the New York controller at Manta, the Manta controller expresses dismay and impatience that the flight has not been entered into the computer:
Kennedy Controller: Manta, Kennedy manual handoff, EgyptAir 990.
Manta Controller: Doesn't anybody know over at the tower that they've got to put these flight plans back in?15
The NTSB provides among its documents a description of the fact that, as part of a normal procedure, the computers had been shut down for a routine repair. It is true that the controllers don't seem to find their situ-ation abnormal ("Let me see if there's anything in here. Of course not. And I don't have all his routing either. Oh, that's wonderful"). But neither do they find it acceptable ("It's just disgusting"). There is no question that the handoff from the Kennedy to the Manta sector is safely executed: the Manta controller does not have the route in the computer, but the Kennedy controller recites it orally ("Shipp Linnd Lacks Dovey"); the Manta controller does not have the pilot's requested altitude, but the Kennedy controller provides it (Manta: "Do you know what he wants as a final?" Kennedy: "I've got thirty-three thousand").


This first phase of the air controller's complaint lasts slightly less than one minute and should probably be seen against the backdrop of complaints in every other line of work. But the point is not whether anything wrong happens here; the point is that if the flight isn't in the Manta controller's computer, will it—at the point ten minutes later where the flight is directed by the Atlantic controller to veer east into W-105—be in GIANT KILLER's computer? A July 15, 1999, agreement between the East Coast FAA air controllers ("hereinafter designated Center") and the facility ("hereinafter designated GIANT KILLER") specifies that even when the warning zones are released to the FAA, the civilian planes "penetrating" the air space have to be announced to the military by explicit procedures, such as computer notification.

The conversation between the Manta and Kennedy controllers comes to a halt because the Manta controller has to exchange information with two planes, first EgyptAir 990, then Costa Rica Airlines 661, called a "Lacsa." But five minutes later the Manta controller is still upset and returns to the subject, asking the Kennedy controller: "You got any more surprises after this Lacsa coming off, or is he the last one?" An important clarification now follows. What has upset the Manta controller is not that all the flight reports have failed to be put in the computer. The problem is that they have been entered there inconsistently:
Manta Controller: ...Nobody typed in the EgyptAir but they did type in the Lacsa.
The Kennedy controller tells the Manta controller that he has no "tickets" (advance information) about planes that he will be forwarding to the Manta sector, but he then goes on to note that the lack of a ticket doesn't mean there won't be any more planes: "Just because you don't have a ticket on anybody doesn't mean there's nobody else."
Manta Controller: ...So, we're both gonna be in the dark.
Kennedy Controller: Well, there ya go.
The element of surprise audible in the Manta controller's statements to the Kennedy controller ("You got any more surprises...?"; "Nobody typed in the EgyptAir but they did type in the Lacsa"; "We're both gonna be in the dark") is registered in at least one other radar sector as well.16

Small tremors of unease about the plane's route occur at various places in the air traffic control record. While the plane is still on the ground back at JFK, the Kennedy Tower ground controller expresses concern. The plane is two hours late taking off; does the filed flight plan still hold?
17 He consults the controller in charge of flight data ("Is that flight plan still good?") and is assured that it is ("Yeah. That's still good"). Should the plane be given a new transponder code? He is assured: "The code that he has is good." The time is 12:56. Twenty-three minutes later (at 1:19 AM), when the Kennedy Tower local ground controller transfers control to the New York traffic controller, he recalls his original worry: "I've got an EgyptAir 990 going over Shipp.... It's on an older strip; Center says it's still good."18

Later, when the plane is being placed in the Manta controller's hands, the Manta controller expresses lack of confidence about using the computer to pick a flight path: "OK. Let me start a track...pick. This new equipment—I don't even know how to do this stuff. Enter. There he is. OK. Interim two three oh [altitude 23,000 feet]."
19 Again, these passages are cited not to suggest any transgression or lapse of attention on the part of the air traffic controllers, who seem alert and concerned, but to suggest their shared unease about sending EgyptAir out into a night on which everyone seems to be somewhat "in the dark."


Was EgyptAir 990 the only civilian plane flying through the W-105 region, as appears to be the case in the two-hour
20 period covered by the air controller transcripts? (The question is worth asking because a solo plane entering W-105 might startle military onlookers in a way that a steady stream of civilian planes would not.) If EgyptAir 990 was indeed the only civilian plane in the warning zone, there seems to exist a simple and straightforward explanation: it is late at night; few planes are flying; and most of those that are flying are not embarking on a transatlantic flight. Costa Rica Airlines 661, heading for home, flies straight down the coastline; Lufthansa 8202, a cargo plane which had stopped at JFK in its travel from Frankfurt to Atlanta, now flies south-west over Robbinsville, New Jersey, and continues south. There is, however, one other flight setting out on a transatlantic journey, the cargo plane El Al 2812. It prepares for takeoff almost simultaneously with EgyptAir 990. The controller begins to instruct El Al 2812, traveling to Tel Aviv by way of Frankfurt, to exit from JFK Airport by the Kennedy seven departure lane (the same gateway EgyptAir 990 flies out of). But the controller then instructs the pilot to follow a different path:
Kennedy Tower Controller: El Al 2812, good morning, you're cleared to Frankfurt via the Kennedy departure seven—Actual[ly], it's a Bette two departure and Nantucket transition....
El Al 2812: Roger, El Al cleared to Frankfurt via Bette two Nantucket transition gateway....
The air route from JFK to the Bette intersection, and from Bette to Nantucket, is the path taken by transatlantic flights when W-106 and W-105 are in use by the military. (It is the path both TWA 800 and Swissair 111 traveled.) The fact that this route is used when military exercises are underway does not mean that the path cannot be used when the W-106 and W-105 regions are open to civilian planes. But the fact that the cargo plane's flight route was along the Bette path and EgyptAir 990's was not (like the fact that Costa Rica Airlines' flight was typed into the computer and EgyptAir 990's was not) calls attention to the isolation of EgyptAir 990 on its middle-of-the-night voyage home.21

Given the higher level of danger that exists in a military warning zone than in open seas, prudence and ordinary investigative precision would seem to mandate a reconstruction of that environment. Details from the route have been given here not because they show something wrong,
22 but because they are a reminder that the world external to the plane is at least as complicated as the one inside the plane that has already for many months now undergone intense review.

2.


The EgyptAir 990 crash, according to repeated NTSB announcements, involved no mechanical mishap, or at least no mechanical mishap that has so far been recognized on its sophisticated data recorder.
23 Electromagnetic interference should be scrutinized as a possible cause, even in plane crashes where a mechanical explanation seems to exist, since the mechanical event itself may have been triggered by a prior electrical event24 ; but the absence of any mechanical explanation (as so far appears true of EgyptAir 990) should increase the rigor with which data concerning radio and radar transmitters in the area is gathered and studied.

It is striking that the tiny handful of stark facts known about the fall of Egypt Air 990 are themselves consistent with electromagnetic interference. Here are the four facts we know. One: the plane's autopilot disconnected. Two: the plane went into a sudden steep dive. Three: the elevators on the plane's tail, the movable surfaces on the horizontal portion of the tail that control the pitch of the plane (by determining whether the plane's nose points up, down, or level), acted anomalously, moving independently rather than in coordination with each other. Four: the two engines turned off (shortly before the transponder, and presumably all other electrical systems, lost power).

These four features of the EgyptAir 990 catastrophe are all prominent in the most important literature on electromagnetic interference—the 1988 Air Force study of military craft and the 1994 NASA study of civilian craft by Martin Shooman.
25 I will consider them in turn, beginning with the disconnecting of the autopilot.

The 1994 NASA study contains an appendix in which individual pilots summarize incidents caused by electromagnetic interference. Here are excerpts:
Autopilot malfunctions commuter airliner...
Manual A/P [Autopilot] disconnect...
Unmotivated A/P [Autopilot] disconnect, business transport.... In stable cruise, sudden A/P [Autopilot] disconnect resulting in -5 pitch down...
Helicopter reported interference to Auto Pilot and rotor controls in vicinity of Navy Ship with high power. Problem associated with cable pick up of RF [Radio Frequency]. Same problem identified several times.26
How does an autopilot disconnect in situations of electromagnetic interference? There are two ways. The auto-pilot (as in some of the examples above and, again, as in the late phase of the Swissair 111 accident) may automatically disconnect, either because it receives a stray electrical command which shuts it off or because it becomes baffled by the random information it is receiving and so shuts down. A second possibility is that the human pilot sees that an order he or she did not authorize is starting to be carried out on one of the plane's control surfaces (such as its rudder, elevators, ailerons, or wing flaps). When this happens, it is appropriate—indeed necessary—for the pilot at once to disconnect the autopilot. (The second passage above describes pilot intervention.) It is perfectly plausible that the EgyptAir 990 autopilot may have disconnected on its own27 ; it is equally plausible that the pilot, seeing something amiss, quickly and appropriately disconnected the autopilot.

The NASA researcher Martin Shooman points out that the disconnecting of the autopilot, whether executed by the autopilot itself or by the live pilot, becomes necessary to the plane's survival (since the autopilot is starting to put the plane on a disastrous course). But, at the same time, that act of disconnecting is itself an especially hazardous event. Up to that moment, the autopilot has been receiving false instructions (such as an adjustment to the elevators, or a deflection of the rudder); but if the errant instruction is incompatible with safe flying, the autopilot will simultaneously start compensating for the false command with balancing counteractions. When suddenly the autopilot is turned off, the human pilots are abruptly confronted with a set of events that may be confusing, and there may not be time either to put in place or to undo the compensatory settings on other control surfaces.
28


Eight seconds after EgyptAir 990's autopilot disconnected, the plane entered a sudden steep dive. Especially telling on this matter is the previous work carried out by the Air Force on electromagnetic transmissions. Although the 1988 Air Force study, and the three-year-long Pentagon study it prompted, have still not been released to the public, the study's major findings were summarized by Colonel Charles Quisenberry, one of the study's authors: he stated that electromagnetic interference can send a plane or helicopter into an uncommanded roll or dive.
29 Electromagnetic interference can take scores of different forms. But Colonel Quisenberry did not list scores of outcomes. Because he was giving a summary, he listed only the three most important, one of which was a sudden, uncommanded dive. Sudden dives are also registered in the 1994 NASA study of civilian craft: one commercial airliner dropped 30,000 feet; a second commercial airliner dropped 20,000 feet.30

The prominence of inexplicable dives in accidents involving electromagnetic interference makes it seem odd that the NTSB has so far not named it among possible causes in need of investigation in the case of EgyptAir 990, especially given the fact that this same geographical region had been implicated in two earlier plane fatalities, thereby increasing the possibility that the cause of all three involved the external environment.

The third key event (the position of the aircraft's elevators) is closely related to the second. Elevators are among the surfaces whose control can be interfered with by electromagnetic transmission. When Colonel Quisenberry reported that planes can enter a sudden dive, he meant that some control surfaces on the plane (elevators, rudder, wing flaps) can be altered in such a way that the plane goes out of control and begins to fall.
31

The fourth event, the sudden shutting down of the engines, is also a prominent part of the literature on electromagnetic interference. If we return to Colonel Quisenberry's stark summary of the Air Force study, we find included in his short list of key events the sudden interruption of the fuel flow to the engines.
32 This can be rephrased as "sudden turning off of the engines" since when a pilot (or a stray electrical signal) turns off the engine, what that command does is interrupt the fuel flow. Reports of the sudden turning off of engines also appear in the 1994 NASA study: a blimp suddenly had a double-engine failure at the moment when it was passing directly over a powerful Voice of America antenna in North Carolina.33 In another case, one engine of a plane ceased at the same time that the autopilot disconnected when in an area of strong transmissions.34

Because human beings and stray electrical signals can each introduce "commands" into the control surfaces of a plane, it is extremely difficult to sort them out, and at the same time crucial to do so.
35 Decoupling the two is difficult enough in the early stages of the catastrophe; it is even more difficult once the catastrophe is fully underway. Once EgyptAir 990 had entered its steep dive, it may be that all subsequent command actions were initiated by the pilots, desperately trying to regain control of the plane and making the best decisions they could: those actions may have been a highly competent effort to save the aircraft or they may have been, however admirable, less competent. It is possible that all four of the key events—automatic pilot shutdown, steep dive, split-elevator anomaly, engine shutdown—were caused by electromagnetic interference or that only some of the four were caused by electromagnetic interference, the rest by pilot intervention and attempted rescue.36

Electromagnetic interference affects different planes in different and sometimes quirky ways because it interacts with a particular plane's greatest points of electrical vulnerability: if a plane has chafed wiring (as in the case of TWA 800), it may produce a problem there; if a plane has an over-ambitious entertainment system (as has sometimes been claimed about Swissair 111, though the Canadian Safety Board has repeatedly stated that it has, for them, no more prominence in the accident than any of the plane's other electrical system), the problem could first appear there. If it was a highly digitized plane (such as EgyptAir 990's plane type, the 767), it could interact by introducing a false command into the autopilot, ignition, stabilizer, or other control surfaces.

The National Transportation Safety Board is usually scrupulous about not claiming to know a cause before having the evidence. It can sometimes be faulted for omissions, such as not reconstructing the external environment, or not bringing the same standard of inquiry to bear on military actions that it brings to bear on the actions of wire manufacturers or maintenance personnel or civilian passengers. But it would be hard to describe it as ever committing a faulty act. Its stamina in moving through four years of investigating TWA 800 without ever prematurely claiming to have found a definitive cause is remarkable.

It is therefore almost incomprehensible how this same Safety Board has come so close (at least as its statements are reflected in the media) to accusing the copilot of EgyptAir 990, Gamil al-Batouti, of willfully murdering 216 fellow travelers. The Safety Board officials acknowledged before Congress and before the public that they so far have insufficient evidence to hold Mr. Batouti responsible for the catastrophe; but to many onlookers (including this author) what they call insufficient evidence looks instead like no evidence at all.
37 It certainly does not appear to be the case that only a pilot's willed action could bring about the disastrous events (autopilot disconnect, dive, split-elevator anomaly, engine shutdown) that took place that night.

By gathering and providing to the public transcripts of the air controllers' tapes, FAA logs, communications from the Virginia Capes Surveillance Facility, and many other materials, the NTSB has already begun to carry out a reconstruction of what might have happened. It is to be hoped that this is the first step in what will eventually become a comprehensive review of the external electromagnetic environment. Such a review has still to be carried out for the three planes that have, since July 1996, crashed after leaving JFK Airport.
          —This is the second part of a two-part article.
...We have a variety of radar around the country that is used to defend our territorial integrity, to monitor air traffic. Obviously, there's a huge amount of air traffic coming in and we monitor it all the time...and special monitoring—
I suppose they do exercises and they do a variety of other things, trying to improve their capabilities.
 
 
1. Published in the September 21, 2000, issue of The New York Review. The complete text with full citations from official documents appears on the New York Review website, www.nybooks.com. The same website will soon carry an appendix to the two-part article describing the possible sources of electromagnetic interference with TWA 800 that remain to be investigated.

2. Although the Transportation Safety Board of Canada has not singled out the radio blackout as a focus more important than any other part of the flight, it is certainly among the objects of their concern. On March 9, 1999, the Safety Board sent an "Interim Air Safety Recommendations" letter to David Michael Collenette, Canada's minister of transport, urging that the duration of aircraft cockpit voice recorders be extended from their current length of one half-hour to a much longer period. The Safety Board cited as evidence of the need for an extended tape the thirteen-minute radio blackout on the Swissair 111 flight: the existence of extended voice recordings would have registered "cockpit conversations, flight deck noises, or attempted crew transmissions" that would have greatly assisted the Safety Board in assessing the blackout. Although only two sentences are devoted to the mysterious blackout, the fact that the request for extended tapes rests on this single concrete example suggests its potential gravity.

3. The TWA 800 and Swissair 111 accidents, however, appear to be "unmistakably" electrical; in the case of the EgyptAir 990 accident there is persuasive, but not unmistakable, evidence that the accident could be electrical. The possibly electrical nature of the accident has been often noted, starting soon after the crash, by observers (see, for example, Chuck Taylor, Seattle Times, November 9, 1999, and 767 pilot Dan Gellert, cited in James Wallace, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, November 11, 1999).

4. The words were used by the New York controller at the Kennedy Radar Sector when speaking to the New York controller at the Manta Sector, toward which EgyptAir 990 was flying (1:25 AM on transcript of FAA tape of New York TRACON, Kennedy Radar Sector, October 31, 1999, 1:16 AM to 1:31 AM, Addendum to Air Traffic Control Group Factual Report, NTSB, William English Chair, p. 3; and again on the transcript for the Manta Radar Sector, covering 1:19 to 1:39, p. 2). All transcripts, FAA logs, and military logs quoted in this section of the article are materials made available to the public by the NTSB on its accident website, www.ntsb.gov/events/EA990 (released on August 11, 2000).

5. Needless to say, EgyptAir 990 may have crashed even had it followed a different route. But this article is concerned to examine the possibility (a possibility that has so far not received public attention) that the specific environment the plane was in—hence its route—may have had a crucial part in the accident. Usually when the term "W-105" is used, it refers, as I do in this article, to the region made up of four sections: 105A, C, D, E (see the map). "W-105B" and "W-106" are much less often used for military exercises.

6. In fact, the single plane other than EgyptAir 990 with which the Atlantic controller is in contact during the period before the crash is a Navy plane with the call sign "Arise 57," which was flying in a corridor between warning zones. (It is at the moment that Arise 57 checks in that the control-ler, who had briefly stepped away from the radar screen, returns and realizes that EgyptAir 990 has disappeared from radar and radio.) Arise 57 appears to be flying at a great distance—approximately 150 miles—from EgyptAir 990: the transcript indicates a flight path from ocean intersection point Champ to ocean fix Sea Isle (these two points are south of the region shown on the map). When the FAA released this portion of the transcript on May 16, 2000, Air Safety Week pointed out that the FAA should identify more specifically the Navy plane Arise 57.

7. The role of Air Force transmitters in capturing the image of EgyptAir 990 was widely reported in the United States media, as was the work of the 84th Radar Evaluation Squadron at Hill Air Force Base in Utah, which put together the images captured from different Air Force radar locations. The specification of Riverhead, Long Island, and Truro, Cape Cod, was less widely reported: it appeared in Matthew L. Wald's November 4 and 5, 1999, New York Times stories ( the first of which was reprinted in newspapers in many states) as well as in November 4 reporting by CNN's Carl Rochelle and Lou Waters. On aviation maps, the area near Truro, Cape Cod, has a printed warning: "CAUTION: USAF [US Air Force] PAVE-PAWS Radar Hazardous to Aircraft within 1 N[autical] M[ile]."PAVE-PAWS stands for "Precision Acquisition Vehicle Entry-Phased Array Warning System."

8. At his November 4, 1999, press conference, Defense Department spokesman Kenneth Bacon was several times asked by a persistent reporter what activities the Air Force radars and their operators normally carry out (when not assisting in the analysis of a civilian plane crash). According to Mr. Bacon, the work of the Air Force radars includes both continuous blanket monitoring—

9. For a description of such transmitters, see my article "The Fall of TWA 800: The Possibility of Electromagnetic Interference," The New York Review, April 9, 1998.

10. Should the civilian population become involved in military exercises without their knowledge or authorization? While it would not be possible for citizens to give their authorization on a flight-by-flight basis, certainly the general issue could be discussed and debated. The only public discussion so far came in the spring of 1997, when military planes followed so closely behind civilian planes in tracking exercises that the affected commercial pilots threatened to strike if the practice continued.

11. I have specified one brigadier general, even though the number varies, depending on the news source, from one to three. According to Jane's Defence Weekly, the group of thirty-three officers included "two Egyptian Air Force brigadier generals and two army major generals" (Vol. 32, No. 19, November 10, 1999).

12. Defense Department, Pentagon News Briefing, November 4, 1999.

13 Taking the second as an example: United States military observers may have been aware of the plane and its special passengers long before the plane left the ground and all along its route. (Kenneth Bacon has stated that the presence of thirty-three officers is not unusual: one thousand Egyptian officers come to the United States each year.)

14 For example, if United States military observers were notified of the plane's approach only very shortly before it arrived, they might give it special scrutiny. Once they began to scrutinize it, they would realize it was an Egyptian carrier. They might give it even closer scrutiny while checking the background of the flight, and discovering that thirty-three military officers were on board.

15 FAA transcript of Manta Sector controller. (Here and throughout I have eliminated all "uh"s and "ah"s between words registered in the transcripts; and I have added punctuation.)

16 The Atlantic controller, for example, has no record in her computer of the Navy plane Arise 57; so the Kraft controller faxes a record to her ("one invalid field record...on its way"). (Minute 1:32, FAA transcript for Atlantic Sector.)

17. The clocks are changing from Eastern Daylight Savings on this night to Eastern Standard, and once the clock is set back, the flight delayed by two hours seems delayed by only one hour.

18. FAA transcript for New York TRACON sector, 1:16 AM to 1:31 AM.

19. Minute 1:25, FAA transcript for Manta sector.

20 The period from 12:48 AM to 2:52 AM is covered by the five transcripts. Each only covers a segment of that period, and it is possible that the two-hour record for each of the five would show other planes traveling through the W-105 and W-106 regions.

21 The Atlantic controller, as mentioned previously, enlists the help of many different civilian and military resources once she realizes the plane has disappeared from radar. Among them are Lufthansa 499 (a nonstop flight from Mexico City to Frankfurt) and Air France 439 (a nonstop flight from Mexico City to Paris), the first of which tries to contact EgyptAir 990 on the radio and the second of which is actually conscripted into digressing from its own route to fly over a patch of the ocean to see if any sign of the plane can be seen. But by the time these two planes are called on for help, EgyptAir 990 has already been under the sea for a long time (thirteen minutes in Lufthansa's case; forty-five minutes in the case of Air France). Though various searchers are looking over Dovey, northeast of Dovey, and even as far off course as W-102 (see map), by the time the controller is in contact with Air France she appears to have inferred what will eventually turn out to be the actual accident site, for she requests that he search for the plane "sixty miles south of Nantucket," the description now widely used for describing the location of the fall. (Minute 2:32, transcript of Atlantic sector.)

22. The air controller tapes from the Swissair 111 flight, in contrast, show something unequivocally wrong, even if we cannot yet judge the relation between the plane's thirteen-minute radio blackout and its eventual fall.

23. Although the initial causes of the TWA 800 and Swissair 111 accidents have not been found, there are recognizable physical problems along the way: an explosion in the central fuel tank in the case of TWA 800, "arcing"—a hot and persistent form of electrical sparking—in twenty wires located near the cockpit in the case of Swissair 111. Nothing equivalent has been found in the case of EgyptAir 990, except the four events involved in the final dive, looked at below.

24. Two examples involved a Boeing 767-300, the type of plane involved in the EgyptAir 990 crash. In 1993, a 767 attempting to land at Frankfurt suffered a sudden rudder deflection of 16 degrees which sent it off the runway. The event was judged to have been instigated by electromagnetic interference ("Government Officials Investigated United 767 Rudder Incident," Aerospace Daily, September 21, 1993, Vol. 167, No. 57, p. 473).
In 1991, an Austrian-owned Lauda Air 767 suddenly went into a fatal dive near Bangkok when one of its thrust reversers was deployed. British aviation authorities, who had originally assisted Austrian investigators in their inquiry, surmised in a 1995 report that electromagnetic interference might have caused the thrust-reverser deployment. Boeing spent a year trying unsuccessfully to duplicate such an outcome experimentally, but they investigated only electromagnetic interference originating from the relatively weak signals on passenger-carried cell phones and computers, not the potentially more powerful signals that could have originated from radios and radars operating in the external environment. The 1995 British Civil Aviation Authority report is cited in Andrew Laxton, "New Theory on Lauda Crash: Passengers may have set off Lauda Air Disaster," South China Morning Post, May 7, 1995. Both the 1995 report and Boeing's year-long attempt to confirm it are described in Business Week, October 14, 1996 (Christina Del Valle, "Could a Laptop Bring Down an Airliner?"), and in South China Morning Post, April 21, 1996 (Jane Moir, "Probe Back at Square One 5 Years After Lauda Crash"). The official accident report issued by the national safety board of Thailand does not explicitly mention electromagnetic interference, but does repeatedly call attention to the possi-bility that the thrust reverser (whose activation entails a combination of hydraulic and electrical systems) may have been initiated by an "electrical wiring anomaly" such as a "hot short," possibilities they could not fully explore due to the destruction of the wiring during the crash. (See section 2.5.3, "Electrical Systems Failure Resulting in Deployment," in Aircraft Accident Investigation Committee, Ministry of Transport and Communications Thailand, Lauda Air Luftfahrt Aktiengesellschaft Boeing 767-300ER Registration OE-LAV, Dan Chang District, Suphan Buri Province, Thailand, 26 May BE 2534 (AD 1991), pp. 32, 33; and see also Appendix C, pp. 64-68, on the Electrical Control System of the thrust reverser and engine). Three months after the accident, the United States FAA issued an Airworthiness Directive that "required the deactivation of all electrically controlled B767...thrust reversers until corrective actions were identified to prevent uncommanded in-flight thrust reverser deployment" (as summarized in Thai Aircraft Accident Investigation Committee report, 2.5.4, paragraph 4). By February of 1992, Boeing had carried out design changes in the fleet of B767s reflecting their new requirement that "critical wires" be isolated and given "protective shielding." (Thai Aircraft Accident Investigation Committee report, section 2.7, item 3.)

25. For a description of the 1988 Air Force and 1994 NASA reports, see "The Fall of TWA 800," pp. 59, 60.

26. "Appendix D, Description of Events," in Martin Shooman, "A Study of Occurrence Rates of Electromagnetic Interference (EMI) to Aircraft with a Focus on HIRF (External) High Intensity Radiated Fields," April 1994, National Aeronautics and Space Administration, Langley Research Center, pp. 93-96 passim. Additional instances include the following: "When the HF [High Frequency] transmitter was keyed during EMC [Electromagnetic Compatibility] testing the autopilot would indicate a rolling dive..."; "Cabin lights and 1 engine shut down. Pilot took action to reset autopilot..."; "High frequency transmitter effects autopilot on a narrowbody"; "Effect was...loss of autopilot, multiple and rapid data fail flag oscillations/ pilot loss of confidence in primary displays while bus is blinded..."; "HF [High Frequency] transmitter interference into autopilot...potentially very dangerous."

27. The fact that no warning alarm went off at the moment the autopilot disconnected has been widely cited in the press as evidence that the autopilot must have been disconnected by the pilots; but no such conclusion can be reached on the basis of an absent alarm. The Vienna Institute of Aerospace-Medicine and Space-Biology points out that the same electrical event that knocks out the autopilot can also disable the auditory alarm ("Faulty EgyptAir Device Suspected," The Boston Globe, November 25, 1999). Similarly, Byron Acohido, a reporter for the Seattle Times, cautions that alarms are often disabled by a stray electrical signal (quoted in Jean-Paul Mari, "EgyptAir: Le Suicide Était Presque Parfait," Le Nouvel Observateur, December 15, 1999, p. 43).

28. Conversation with Martin Shooman, October 31, l997 (two years before, and hence not referring to, the EgyptAir 990 accident). See Shooman, "Occurrence Rates," p. 4, for an incident in which electromagnetic interference causes a problem with one engine; the autopilot compensates; the pilot then notices the engine problem and disconnects the autopilot; but now the compensatory actions of the autopilot have been interrupted and the plane enters a sudden dive.

29. Colonel Quisenberry, cited in "The Fall of TWA 800," p. 60, notes 7-10.

30. Shooman, "Occurrence Rates," p. 4 and p. 95 (case 40). Sudden dives, however, play a less prominent part in the NASA study than in the Air Force study because the NASA report is primarily about nonfatal electromagnetic events: it is based on accounts by living pilots, pilots who survived the incidents they are describing. As Martin Shooman points out, one reason electromagnetic interference is not adequately studied is that, in many cases, either its effects are short-lived and therefore may appear harmless, or they are fatal, in which case the pilot does not survive to inform us about it. One advantage of the Air Force study (and the three-year Pentagon study it motivated) is that it investigated accidents—such as uncommanded rolls and dives—that were fatal to the crews.

31. The Vienna Institute of Aerospace-Medicine and Space-Biology, in consultation with Austrian pilots with vast experience of the Boeing 767, has surmised that a possible cause of EgyptAir 990's catastrophe was a "stabilizer runaway" that then caused an automatic disconnect of the autopilot. A stabilizer is a horizontal rudder on the tail that, as the name implies, usually keeps the plane level, but can, in the case of a runaway, tilt the nose down. (See "Faulty EgyptAir Device Suspected," The Boston Globe, November 25, 1999.) The anomalous position of the elevators could have been part of the runaway, or could reflect the effort made by the pilots to override the stabilizer runaway by adjusting the elevators.

32. See "The Fall of TWA 800," pp. 59-60.

33. Shooman, "Occurrence Rates," p. 6. In this case both of the electronic engine controls were burned out, although in other cases engines stopped without suffering permanent physical damage.

34. Shooman, "Occurrence Rates," Appendix, p. 93 (case 14). Effects on the engine other than a straightforward shutdown are also included in the NASA report: "H[igh] F[requency] transmitter interference with ana-log engine governor controls caused engine to surge. Varied with frequency..." (Appendix, p. 96, case 56). One oil pressure sensor inside an engine was affected by high-frequency transmissions (p. 96, case 54).

35. Recovered data boxes and cockpit voice recorders can greatly help to sort out which events in a given accident were initiated by the pilots and which events had some other source. But even these sources of information are not always decisive, and sometimes they are simply wrong. The data recorder can indicate events that investigators know did not take place: one altitude parameter on the TWA800 data recorder gave invalid readings and had to be ignored by investigators (NTSB "Flight Data Recorder (FDR) Group Chairman's Factual Report," February 15, 2000, revision, p. 5). Conversely, it can fail to announce events that investigators know did take place: in the case of Swissair 111, the smoke in the cockpit at 9:14 PM and fire soon thereafter are not registered on the data recorder, according to lead investigator Vic Gerden. If we did not have the exchange between the pilot and the air controllers, we would not know these key events had taken place.

36. Of the four events, only the last—the shutting down of the engines—currently has evidence suggesting that it was an act brought about by the pilots: the data recorders and voice recorder indicate that the instruction to shut down the engine, or at least partially shut it down, originated in the cockpit. Because this particular event took place thirty seconds into a dive of terrifying speed and angle (40 degrees, during one interval), it has been proposed by a number of analysts that the turning off of the engines may have been an accidental act—that the pilot may have been reaching for a different lever altogether (see Byron Acohido, "Pilot Could Have Confused Similar Switches on 767's Control Panel as Plane Plunged," Seattle Times, November 18, 1999) or the pilot may have tried to slow the engines down, an appropriate act in an emergency descent, but may have gone too far. (See C.J. Chivers with Matthew L. Wald, "EgyptAir Data Recorder Shows Engine Shutdown," The New York Times, November 13, 1999, p. A7.)  Throughout public discussions of EgyptAir 990, the shutting down of the engines (whether by human hands or by malfunction) has been spoken about as guaranteeing the doom of all on board. Whenever the shutdown has been assigned to human hands, the action has been talked about as self-evidently sinister. But the record of those rare plane crashes where some people survive complicates the picture. Once a crash is inevitable, a pilot may decide to turn off the engines immediately prior to impact in order to decrease the hazard of fire. In 1989, United flight 232 (a DC-10) crash-landed in Sioux City, Iowa. Twenty seconds before impact the pilot instructed the crew to "Ease the power back" and then to shut down both engines ("Close the throttle...Close the throttle"). The copilot—an off-duty pilot who had been traveling as a passenger but who assisted the crew as soon as the difficulties began—declined to follow the pilot's instruction since he was steering the plane by means of unequal power in the two engines (transcript cited in St. Louis Post-Dispatch, September 20, 1989). It has never been suggested that this pilot intended to harm himself or others by his instruction to turn off the engines. On the contrary: the pilot and crew have been deservedly praised for their ingenuity, their teamwork, and their ongoing deliberations; large passenger plane crashes in which anyone survives are extremely rare, and in this case 186 of 296 passengers survived. The pilot's instruction is a reminder that nonsinister reasons can motivate the impulse to shut off the engines shortly before impact. (EgyptAir 990 was near the bottom of its first dive when its engines shut off; the pilots would have had reason to believe that the impact was seconds away, though as it happened, they then successfully repositioned the elevators and the plane began to climb.)  A second crash in which a remarkable number of people survived occurred in 1996 when an Ethiopian Air flight was hijacked, ran out of fuel, and, as a result, lost first one, then both engines. The plane then crash-landed with both engines off in the waters near Comoros: 53 of the 178 passengers survived. (The Ethiopian plane was a 767, as was EgyptAir 990; so the EgyptAir crew was likely to know the history of the Ethiopian plane.) The fact that the Ethiopian Air crash is (along with the United crash in Sioux City) almost alone among large passenger plane crashes in having survivors and that its impact occurred with its engines off is noteworthy; for it shows the error of assuming, in the case of EgyptAir 990, that the engines being off ensured the death of all on board, just as the United pilot's instruction shows the error of assuming that the decision to turn off engines could only be motivated by the desire to kill oneself and others. It may be that while a plane still has a chance of not crashing, the engines should be kept running. But once the crash of a plane is judged by its pilots to be both certain and soon, there appears to be some argument to be made for turning the engines off.

37. The NTSB's first public announcements about the recovered voice recorder (midday, Monday, November 15, 1999) described the conversations between the pilots as friendly, and reported that the crew had worked together cooperatively to try to undo the catastrophe. But by 5:00 PM on that same day, a different account began to emerge from the NTSB that dominated the press for many months and focused attention on three or four separate sentences spoken by the pilot or copilot.  The copilot, Gamil al-Batouti, according to an unnamed law official, had said, "I've made my decision." (It went almost without saying that "my decision" was the decision to kill himself and 216 people on the plane, rather than a decision about a course of action to take when first sensing trouble on the plane.)  On November 19, 1999, NTSB Chairman Jim Hall announced to the public that the voice tape actually contained no sentence even remotely resembling the sentence "I've made my decision." Once that sentence was gone, there still remained a second sentence, a "mysterious utterance" by the pilot who had "uttered a prayer" or "muttered a prayer" and done so "in Arabic" or, as some newscasts reported, "in Persian." (The designation of the language alone seemed to imply wrongdoing, even though pilots from non-English-speaking countries routinely use their own language when not speaking with the air controller; most of the Swissair 111 cockpit recording, for example, is in Swiss German.) Little thought was given to the possibility that the pilot could have observed some problem with the plane and called on God to help him; the prayer was instead widely interpreted as voicing the intention to commit suicide and mass murder. Soon, however, the "sinister" quality of the prayer began to erode, as did even its "mysteriousness" or "portentousness." The prayer turned out to be part of the texture of everyday life, a sentence spoken by many Egyptians an estimated two hundred times a day and by many Egyptian-Americans thirty times a day. Sometimes the pilot's question to Gamil al-Batouti—"Did you shut the engine?"—has been cited as though the pilot is accusing Mr. Batouti of turning off the engine. The full transcript suggests the strong possibility of the reverse interpretation: the pilot (rightly or wrongly) wishes to make certain that the engine has been wholly or partially shut down. He first asks the question "Did you shut the engine?," then restates it as an instruction: "Shut the engines"; and only when the copilot assures him, "It's shut," does he proceed to the next instruction to "Pull with me," apparently in an effort to change the position of the elevators. The sentence "Pull with me, pull with me," spoken by the pilot to Gamil al-Batouti, has been widely interpreted as implying that Mr. Batouti was not cooperating with his fellow pilot and had to be urged into cooperation (according to this view, the pilot recognized that Mr. Batouti had intentionally plunged the plane toward the sea, but hoped to pull him out of his maniacal act by several brief imperatives). The words "Pull...Pull..." were spoken five years earlier by a pilot to his copilot when their USAir flight 427 plunged toward the ground near Pittsburgh. The same sentences were then widely cited in the press without anyone inferring that the copilot was being uncooperative or suicidal.

 

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