Normalcy Bias

The normalcy bias describes our tendency to underestimate the possibility of disaster and believe that life will continue as normal, even in the face of significant threats or crises.

-Dr. Lauren Braithwaite

Hi everyone:

Our flight home from Japan began with extreme turbulence. The wings shook and bags bounced, and I began wondering if planes could break apart under these conditions. So, I asked AI:

While turbulence can be unsettling and even lead to injuries, it is extremely rare for a plane to break apart due to turbulence. Modern aircraft are designed and tested to withstand significant stresses and strains, and the level of turbulence required to cause structural damage is far beyond what is typically encountered during flights.

I returned to my reading.

Hours later, as we approached North America, the pilot announced we’d developed “a small fuel leak” and were diverting to Alaska. I figured we just needed a pit stop in Anchorage to plug the hole.

I sipped my drink and wondered if I’d get credit for visiting Alaska if we never left the tarmac.

A few minutes later, the flight attendant suggested we keep the shades down. But if we did look at the wings, not to be alarmed about the fuel being dumped so the plane was light enough to land safely. He said not to worry: jet fuel released into the stratosphere dissipates fast and doesn’t harm the environment.

It didn’t occur to me to ask AI about fuel leaks, but if I had:

A fuel leak in a jet airliner is a serious safety concern due to the potential for fire and explosion, reduced aircraft range, and potential for flight cancellations. It can also lead to emergency landing scenarios. Leaks can result from various factors like sealant degradation, damaged components, or improper maintenance.

Would it have been better to know? I was just a passenger, not the pilot.

As we descended over Anchorage, the flight attendant’s vo

ice began to shake--the first clue to me that the situation was serious—as I expressed to Gabrielle who was sitting a few rows up:

I wondered what Shakespeare would tell his daughter if he were in my situation. According to AI:

Dearest Gabrielle,

Thy father findeth himself aloft in a chariot of iron, wherefrom the very lifeblood—fuel, as these folk do call it—doth leak like Icarus’ waxen hopes. The pilot, brave yet troubled, hath sworn to set us down in a land called Alaska, a frozen realm where bears may counsel men and daylight doth forget her turn.

Fear not, sweet child. Though fortune frowneth, thy father yet draweth breath and keepeth cheer. I shall write thee more, should the stars permit.

Ever thy loving sire,

Will

But I’m not Shakespeare. I’m a doctor, and I’m aware that medicine is experiencing its own fuel leak. Like passengers place their trust in pilots, patients place their trust in us.

These are not normal times in medicine, no matter how normal our daily work may seem. It’s our duty to advocate for medicine: to support life-saving research, to provide healthcare to everyone who needs it, and to follow evidence, honestly and courageously, wherever it leads. It’s up to us to defend our profession, our patients, and our principles.

We spent the day in Anchorage, touring the city and dining on halibut and king salmon before boarding a new plane yesterday morning for the flight home.

Enjoy your Sunday, everyone, and Happy Easter to all who celebrate. It’s good to be back in New Haven, and I’ll be back in the MICU tomorrow morning.

Mark

P.S. What I’m reading:

• How to Be a Happy 85-Year-Old (Like Me) By Roger Rosenblatt
• America Is Learning the Wrong Lesson From Elon Musk’s Success By Adam Grant
• The Breakthrough Blood Test for Alzheimer's Disease By Erit Topol
• Why do we believe that nothing bad is going to happen? By Lauren Braithwaite
• Trump-Allied Prosecutor Sends Letters to Medical Journals Alleging Bias By Teddy Rosenbluth and Rebecca Robbins