Objective vs. Subjective
Objective statements make airplanes fly. Subjective statements are the personal expressions of the joy of flying.
[I was a technical writer for industrial machinery, marine power plants and generators, and Sonex Aircraft. I also handled Sonex builder support for nearly two decades. I learned to choose words carefully and I’m tuned into the communication style of the average builder/pilot. In writing this column I hope to improve communication between builder/pilot and the support staff they call on, as well as builder-to-builder communication where opinion is often presented, or accepted, as fact. ~kf ]
Affordable! Easy to build! Fast! Comfortable!
Marketing departments willfully ignore the difference between objective and subjective statements. One that stands out in my mind was a claim that $3990.00 a month is an affordable payment. They haven’t seen the rust-perforated rocker panels on my 2008 Jeep. Or they feel my otherwise frugal lifestyle allows me an indulgence. A $3990 monthly payment is not affordable to me. I keep company with those who smell of fiberglass resin, have Sitka Spruce dust in their hair, and track aluminum chips across their click-in-place kitchen floor.
Subjective Words: Statements of Opinion
A marketing department’s subjective proclamations (often accompanied by an exclamation mark, “Superb Handling!”) make great advertising bullet points but provide no concrete information.
Affordable! (For who?)
Easy! (Compared to what?)
Comfortable! (Who can define what you find comfortable?)
Marketers don’t hold a monopoly on subjective statements. Aircraft builders and pilots are free and easy with them, as well.
It runs hot.
It’s slow.
It feels tight.
Those statements, like the marketing claims above, provide no measurable information. Subjective terms can be thought of as opinions. This was on full display when I worked airshows and helped people try on the Sonex factory aircraft cockpits. One couple, both pencil-thin, leaned left then right at acute angles until their shoulders contacted structure or each other before declaring the cockpit “tight.” Two men of linebacker proportions (I felt they had no chance of fitting) shoe-horned themselves into the same cockpit (aided, I think, by the lubricating properties of sweat and sunscreen), looked at each other and proclaimed, “Yah, this is roomy!” Objectively, the cockpit is 38-inches wide. Subjectively, 38-inches may be too narrow for some and spacious for others. There’s no telling how any individual will subjectively judge the comfort of the cockpit’s 38-inch width.
Objective Words: Statements of Fact
Objective terms are statements of fact. When discussing cruise speed a pilot of a Heath Parasol may subjectively define 80 knots as fast, while a pilot of a Lancair will surely call it slow. Both understand, however, that 80 knots is an absolute, measurable value. Consider for a moment how wind direction and speed are communicated to pilots: “Winds are zero-four-zero at seven, gusting to twelve.” It is precise because it is objective. You know exactly what to expect as you begin your take-off roll or enter downwind. You can anticipate the control inputs necessary to maintain directional control. You can request a more favorable runway or divert to another airport if the values exceed your comfort level. If the winds were reported subjectively it may sound like this: “The wind is from the left but isn’t that bad.” Not that bad for who? Not that bad for what kind of airplane? From the left while facing which direction? A subjective wind report would be useless to everyone.
Airplanes are often described subjectively. I’d never want to hear a Spitfire’s appearance described as “a pleasing combination of compound curves encasing the mechanical components required for sustained flight.” Nope. “Sexy” can always describe a Spitfire’s appearance and no one will disagree. But when that sexy form needs maintenance the mechanic would rather be told, “The left brake drags during extended braking” than be told, “The brakes are bad.”
Subjectivity serves us fine when we’re hangar flying with our buddies (“Man, I dragged that thing in so slow”), but when communicating technical matters—with other builders, a DAR or an FAA inspector, a mechanic, or the company who designed the kit—, use objective terms that can be universally interpreted. When someone told me their engine ran “hot” my only option was to ask many questions. Hot is subjective and the statement doesn’t describe the conditions under which the temperatures were observed. On the other hand, “The cylinder head temperature in cruise is 410 degrees,” gave me something immediate to work with. I would still ask follow-up questions, but my questions were more specific and I could identify possible causes and suggest corrective action more quickly.
Are You Asking For Opinions?
When you ask a kit plane manufacturer, or the owner of the same aircraft you are interested in building, a subjective question—Is it easy? Is it fast? Is it comfortable? And my favorite, “Can I build it?”—you are asking them to make a judgement call on your behalf. That is something no manufacturer can do, whether they try to or not. Of course a salesman will never say their cockpit is cramped, their avionics are expensive, or their headsets are uncomfortable, but even staff who want to be as straightforward as possible are placed in the position of providing an opinion.
If you don’t trust sales staff you can turn to strangers on the internet. What you’ll most likely get in return are subjective statements; dozens of them, increasing your confusion and still leaving you to form your own opinion and make your own decision. For example, all of the following statements are valid: A Sonex cockpit is spacious; a Sonex cockpit is cramped; a Sonex cockpit is 38-inches wide. Only one of these statements is an objective fact, the others are subjective opinions.
Bonus Content: Weasel Words
Weasel words are a category of words all good technical writers learn to avoid. Weasel words imply something without delivering the goods. They are ambiguous and you should watch and listen for them as well. Often, they are used without thought. Worse is when they are used intentionally. Words like should, may, and might avoid commitment and lack specificity. You should unplug the toaster before washing it is not the same as you must unplug the toaster before wiping it with a damp cloth. You can install IFR instruments in an Evans VP-1 is not the same as “Never fly a VP-1 in IFR conditions.”
“As a new tailwheel pilot you should be fine landing a Beech Staggerwing.”
“They say these engines all run hot.” (Who are they?)
Even my youngest daughter noticed, by age eight, that the phrase “we’ll see” was the opposite of a commitment. Her specific reaction was, “I wish ‘we’ll see’ meant yes.” Yes, she busted her parents setting the stage to weasel out on activities.
Choose your words carefully when communicating with others. Aviation is a soul-freeing activity rooted in math, science and engineering. Objective statements make airplanes fly. Subjective statements are the personal expressions of the joy of flying (and building). “I was coming in hot with a strong crosswind from my left. The wind was singing through the struts of my Weedhopper and I knew I’d have to land long…”
Great writing once again, Kerry!