The Tragedy of Routine

Services like Flightradar24 and Flight Aware track thousands of flights every day. The sheer number of flights is equalled only by their mundanity. Humans have conquered the sky; travelling close to the speed of sound at 38,000ft is a routine exercise barely given a second thought by most.

But when this hum-drum routine of almost fantastical logistical tedium is interrupted, the results are rarely pleasant. Yesterday, Germanwings flight 4U9525 was another routine blip on the radar, with a departure and destination: BCN–DUS.

At DUS, it had an arrival gate: Gate 2A. Family and friends waiting, the machinery of the airport whirring seen and unseen all around. Arrivals, departures, luggage conveyers, coffee carts.

As we now know, that flight never made its gate at DUS. For some reason, somehow, in this age of routine (and tedious) air travel, 4U9525 rapidly lost altitude over the course of 8 minutes. Pilots in these cases are trained to aviate, navigate and communicate. At this time, we don't know how many (if any) of these tasks the pilots were able to accomplish.

The wreckage of the aircraft now lies strewn across the French alps, torn to pieces by the force of impact. The sheer force of this impact is almost impossible to comprehend. Schooled by Michael Bay et al. in the laws of physics, we assume forces to be far weaker than they actually are, with lucky protagonists able to survive accidents and disasters that would tear normal people asunder.

It's times like these I marvel at the wonder of flight, about the tens of thousands of people transported in safety every single day to the far corners of the globe. Like with every incident since the dawn of civil aviation, I know the investigators and regulatory bodies will learn something from this tragedy. That is about the only solace that can be taken by the bereaved friends and relatives who will be looking for purpose in the mayhem.

Looking at the density of European airspace, the wonder isn't that events like this occur, but that they do not occur more frequently. 

By the Numbers

EA Falcon from the Garden State FTW! - Source: Wikimedia Commons

Remember when number plates were a little piece of civic one-upmanship? Driving the length of the Hume, the Garden State would fight bumper-to-bumper with the First State and the Festival State. Further north, in a fit of unimagined creativity, those wily Queenslanders branded their vehicles part of the Sunshine State. 

They instilled some sort of small, positive civic pride: the knowledge that Victoria valued its gardens meant its people valued its gardens; South Australia their cultural scene; New South Wales their historical primacy; and Queenslanders...their sun - clearly a meteorological feature unique to our friends up north.  

But since those heady days of garden pride, Victoria's number plates have transforphed into a middling quagmire of automotive blandness. From the Kennett-era hubris of the state On the Move to the Bracksian vagueness of being The Place to Be, the Liberal government has turned our automotive identity into a mobile road safety billboard with Vic Stay Alert Stay Alive.

Insert civic slogan and/or punctuation here - Source: VicRoads

Not only has the government expanded the mind-numbing stream of road safety messages to our number plates, but they've managed to circumcise the name of our very state. We are "VIC" to Australia Post, we are ".vic" to our internet browsers, but we are Victoria to the nation and the world. Alas no longer.

Even though Victoria has recorded its lowest road toll since 1924, drivers are still - by and large - treated like naughty children. 1924 saw 224 deaths on the road and given Victoria's population is four times the size it was in 1924, it's easy to see what an achievement this is. Nonetheless, Victorian drivers get a small pat on the head but a stern warning that one death is one too many. Road safety is, of course, very important, but after years of the vast majority of people hearing and heeding the message, it's becoming a bit tiresome on TV, radio, newspapers, billboards and now the ubiquitous number plate. Surely it can be a place for something a little different? Something that gets people talking?  Something that is truly representative of Victoria?

Assuming kids travelling on the Hume still look out the window of their moving cars and not the iPads given to pacify them, they would be unable to glean anything from the home states of the passing cars except that they value road safety - something as unique and far less fun than Queensland's sun.  

The "something" of "something"

© 2013

Anything that's the "something" of the "something" isn't really the "anything" of "anything" -Lisa Simpson

According to that great font of information, Wikipedia, these escalators at Parliament Station on the City Loop in Melbourne were once the longest in the Southern Hemisphere.
Visit the Parliament Station Escalators group on Flickr.