It seems that many student pilots are having an increasingly difficult time comprehending and retaining the general knowledge they need to become private pilots. I think some of this has to do with the failure of our nation’s educational system to teach basic study habits and critical thinking skills, but I’m going to point a big finger at the FAA for failing to produce effective source materials for their customers. That’s right, pilots are customers, because our tax dollars fund the FAA.

The FAA’s two definitive texts for student pilots are the Pilot’s Handbook of Aeronautical Knowledge (PHAK, FAA-H-8083-25C, last updated in 2023) and the Airplane Flying Handbook (AFH, FAA-H-8083-3C, last updated in 2021). But you wouldn’t know this from looking at the FAA’s websiteThere is no obvious message on the homepage that offers guidance to student pilots, only some messages about how the FAA promotes safety, diversity, equity and inclusion. When you click on the Pilots and Airmen link, then click Become a Pilot, then scroll down to Handbooks and Manuals, you are taken to a page with a long list of links with no specific grouping for student pilots. 

This is why we highly recommend (and have recommended for many years) the Learn To Fly video course produced by Sporty’s. This easy to use, affordable course provides all of the basic aeronautical information a student pilot needs to know in a logical, common sense order. The thing I like the most about the Sporty’s product is that they reference key portions of the FAA source material without wasting time on non-essential trivia. I don’t get any commissions for recommending Sporty’s, I just think they offer the best off-the-shelf learning tool on the market today.

In 2022, I wrote a detailed analysis of the AFH, which had just been updated with a mind-blowingly-horrible new chapter on energy management. Click here to read that article, which I recently updated in conjunction with publishing this article on the PHAK. Get ready for a brutally honest assessment of the FAA’s preeminent text for aspiring general aviation pilots, and my recommendations on what to focus your valuable time and energy on, and more importantly, what not to study.

Chapter 1: Introduction To Flying

In typical big government fashion, the PHAK begins with a brief history of powered flight in America and the government’s first attempts to regulate the Wright Brothers’ historic achievement in 1903 with the Air Commerce Act of 1926, after seeing some success with using aircraft in combat during World War I. “During the early years of manned flight,” the authors state, “aviation was a free for all because no government body was in place to establish policies or regulate and enforce safety standards.” So of course the benevolent government had to step in and do something to protect the citizens from themselves — just like they did during COVID, remember? The first pilot certificate was issued in 1927, and in 1938 the agency became known as the Civil Aeronautics Authority (CAA). During the early 1940s the United States military produced more than 300,000 aircraft for use during World War II, leading to the post-war heyday of civilian aviation in America and the birth of the Federal Aviation Administration in 1958. The FAA has enjoyed a continuous, handsomely funded and nearly unchecked power grab ever since. 

All of this is potentially interesting information but functionally irrelevant to someone who just wants to learn how to fly an airplane for fun. There is some need-to-know information buried in Chapter 1, including the role of the FAA Flight Standard District Offices (otherwise known as FSDOs), Aviation Safety Inspectors, Designated Pilot Examiners, and, yes, flight instructors and flight schools. But none of this needs to be in Chapter 1, where a student pilot, full of energy and enthusiasm for his newly discovered passion, is desperately hoping to learn the answer to his most basic question, “How the $%&@ does this airplane get off the ground?” Instead, Chapter 1 squashes this enthusiasm with the ever looming invisible thumb of big government. 

Chapter 2: Aeronautical Decision Making

To really appreciate the mind of a bureaucrat who is tasked with writing a book about flying, read Chapter 2. From the title of this chapter, you would think that the purpose of it is to help pilots make educated decisions about whether or not to fly on any given day, which is certainly what we all want. Instead, this chapter bombards the new student with a barrage of acronyms (PAVE, IMSAFE, PPPPP, PPP, TEAM, DECIDE, SAFETY) that all essentially say the same thing: Don’t Do Nothing Stupid On The Ground Or In Your Airplane. I am in no way minimizing the importance of aeronautical decision making — anyone who has seen my work, studied our website or flown with us knows that safety is our number one priority. We chose to include IMSAFE at the top of our aircraft checklists as a reminder to all pilots and instructors to take a moment to pause and confirm they should continue with the flight. However, the law of diminishing returns applies to aviation acronyms in that students become fixated on memorizing a word salad of catch phrases instead of seeing the big picture of aviation safety. Perhaps the FAA believes pilots are incapable of using common sense and making sound go, no-go decisions on their own. Consider this: If a pilot has to regurgitate an acronym in order to DECIDE whether or not to fly while suffering from a stomach virus, or after being up all night with a new baby, or after arguing with his boss on the phone while attempting to complete the preflight inspection, should he really be a pilot?

Chapter 3: Aircraft Construction

While there is some useful information in this chapter regarding aircraft categories (normal or utility) and type certification, is it really necessary for a student pilot to know that there are six different types of flaps that are possible on an airplane? Or is it five types? See Chapter 6. Does the new student pilot flying a Cessna 150 really need to know the history of composite airframes? Why is GPS even mentioned in this chapter? Instead, a pilot should understand the construction of his aircraft by reading the manual for that aircraft.  

Chapter 4: Principles Of Flight

We’re now about 70 pages into this book and we still haven’t learned how the airplane gets off the ground. Maybe there’s something in this chapter that will help our frazzled student pilot understand this basic concept. Instead, Chapter 4 begins with a scientific explanation of the structure and composition of Earth’s atmosphere – which is important to know, but again, what about the wing? The author introduces density altitude here before we even know how the airplane achieves altitude at all. Finally, on page 4-5 we are introduced to Sir Isaac Newton and Daniel Bernoulli, and their theories about the production of lift. Next, a description of airfoil design – but shouldn’t this be in Chapter 3, Aircraft Construction? 

Chapter 5: Aerodynamics Of Flight

Finally we are told about the Four Forces acting upon an airplane in flight. However, the lesson quickly deteriorates on p. 5-4 with the presentation of a complicated mathematical formula – the lift equation. On p. 5-5 the author writes, “The coefficient of lift is dimensionless and relates the lift generated by a lifting body, the dynamic pressure of the fluid flow around the body, and a reference area associated with the body. The coefficient of drag is also dimensionless and is used to quantify the drag of an object in a fluid environment, such as air, and is always associated with a particular surface area.”

It gets worse. “The L/D ratio is determined by dividing the coefficient of lift by the coefficient of drag, which is the same as dividing the lift equation by the drag equation as all of the variables, aside from the coefficients, cancel out.”

Hold on. Recall that a student pilot who solos on his 16th birthday would have to begin flight training sometime during his 15th year on this planet, or approximately during the 10th grade in school. Most high school students today would not be able to understand this formula, and even if they could, how is this relevant to flying an airplane? I’ve been a pilot for more than 20 years and have logged nearly 6,000 hours of flight time, and not once during a flight have I ever thought to myself on short final, “Let’s see, what is the coefficient of lift?” While this knowledge might be useful to an aircraft designer or aeronautical engineer, it is of absolutely no use to the pilot while flying.

Finally on p. 5-8 we are introduced to wingtip vortices and wake turbulence, which clearly are important for a pilot to understand. Then on p. 5-11 we learn about ground effect but again, it’s described in an overly complicated manner. On p. 5-15 we dive back into the weeds with a dissertation about various aircraft design characteristics including “damped versus undamped stability.” All the student pilot really needs to know is that his training airplane is designed to be stable, because it wants to fly if he simply leaves it alone. The rest of this chapter is grossly overwritten and clearly penned from the viewpoint of an aircraft designer, not a pilot. Consider the following statement on p. 5-33: “In aerodynamics, the maximum load factor (at given bank angle) is a proportion between lift and weight and has a trigonometric relationship.” 

What? So now the 15 year old student pilot needs to know trigonometry? Worse, the 55 year old student pilot needs to remember what trigonometry is? The young student may have not learned this mathematical concept in school yet, or if it’s been introduced, they probably have not yet mastered it. Unless the older student is an architect or a math teacher, he most likely forgot what trigonometry was long ago. In either case, I can’t think of any situation where a pilot would need to use cosign, sign or tangent as part of his preflight or inflight calculations. The people at FAA TERPS are the ones who are tasked with calculating glide slopes to runways and determining instrument approach fixes and minimum altitudes. A pilot’s job is to fly the airplane and follow the published procedure.

The author continues: “While a course in aerodynamics is not a prerequisite for obtaining a pilot’s license, the competent pilot should have a solid understanding of the forces that act on the aircraft, the advantageous use of these forces, and the operating limitations of the aircraft being flown.” How incredibly condescending! Whoever wrote this clearly was relishing the opportunity to belittle the student pilot, who is by now completely deflated and lost. 

To add insult to injury, on p. 5-39 we are presented with a formula for calculating rate of turn. Why not just use the aircraft’s turn coordinator to determine standard and half standard rate, which is all we need for IFR flight and don’t need to know at all for VFR flight? Why would anyone ever need to know their rate of turn to two decimal places? Then there is a formula for calculating the radius of a turn. It’s obvious that the point of Figure 5-62 is to illustrate why tight canyon turns are dangerous, but are the formulas going to prevent fatal accidents? How about instead, the author includes a copy of the following NTSB report:

https://www.ntsb.gov/investigations/AccidentReports/Reports/AAB0702.pdf

On October 11, 2006, about 1442 eastern daylight time, a Cirrus Design SR20, N929CD, operated as a personal flight, crashed into an apartment building in Manhattan, New York, while attempting a 180º turn maneuver above the East River. The two pilots on board the airplane, a certificated private pilot who was the owner of the airplane and a passenger who was a certificated commercial pilot with a flight instructor certificate, were killed. One person on the ground sustained serious injuries, two people on the ground sustained minor injuries, and the airplane was destroyed by impact forces and post crash fire. The flight was operating under the provisions of 14 Code of Federal Regulations Part 91, and no flight plan was filed.

The subject of weight and balance is misplaced in Chapter 5, which if you recall is titled Aerodynamics of Flight. The formula for weight and balance calculations is not covered until Chapter 10. So why are we reading about it now in Chapter 5? The author introduces the effects of being overweight or out of balance on aircraft performance and stability, which is important, but in my opinion this is putting the cart way before the horse. 

Then, just when we thought we might be getting somewhere in Chapter 5, the author hits us with an eight-page dissertation on high speed flight. Even if you’re training in a Cirrus SR22 that’s capable of cruise speeds near 200 knots, there is no way a student pilot is going to ever come close to flying at Mach One in any training aircraft. This section should be eliminated. There’s plenty of time to learn about this down the road when your employer sends you to school to get your jet type rating.

Chapter 6: Flight Controls

I’ll cut the author some slack on this chapter, other than to suggest that the discussion of primary and secondary flight controls in an airplane needs to be bumped up to at least Chapter 3, Aircraft Construction. Interesting to note that Figure 6-7 shows five types of flaps, whereas Figure 3-8 shows six types of flaps. Editorial oversight?

Chapter 7: Aircraft Systems

This chapter is 40 pages long and includes information about systems that most student pilots are unlikely to encounter in any training aircraft, including superchargers, turbo superchargers, turbine engines, pressurization systems and supplemental oxygen systems. To the FAA’s credit, the illustrations of reciprocating engine components, the four-stroke cycle, carburetors and carburetor ice formation are useful and well done, but videos like those in the Sporty’s course do a much better job of helping students understand the operation and function of aircraft systems. 

Chapter 8: Flight Instruments

This chapter is fairly straightforward, and I suspect may have been penned by a different author than some of the previous chapters. There is a fair amount of redundancy in the book, particularly with regard to discussions of the nature of the atmosphere. On p. 8-7, the author offers a brief explanation of density altitude but never references the previous discussion of this topic back in Chapter 4, Principles of Flight. 

Chapter 9: Flight Manuals and Other Documents

While the standardization of aircraft flight manuals is generally a good thing for pilots, this chapter exemplifies what happens when too many attorneys and bureaucrats get together in a room to “approve” them. We learn that an Airplane Flight Manual (AFM) is “approved” by the FAA, but all other types of aircraft manuals are not approved, at least not in their entirety. What is the significance of this FAA approval? Why does this matter to the pilot? We are told that the General Aviation Manufacturers Association (GAMA) – which is an independent aviation industry organization, not a government agency – developed the format for the AFM. (GAMA was also heavily involved in the development of the Light Sport Aircraft consensus standards.) We’re also told that the Pilot’s Operating Handbook (POH) contains FAA-approved AFM information, but it is not the same as the AFM. To make matters more confusing, we learn that the POH for most light aircraft built after 1975 is also designated as the FAA-approved flight manual. What is the legal significance of this? Does this mean that the Information Manual for my 1969 Cessna 150 is garbage? What do the regulations say?

FAR 91.9, Civil aircraft flight manual, marking, and placard requirements, states that “no person may operate a civil aircraft without complying with the operating limitations specified in the approved Airplane or Rotorcraft Flight Manual, markings, and placards, or as otherwise prescribed by the certificating authority of the country of registry. No person may operate a U.S.-registered civil aircraft—(1) For which an Airplane or Rotorcraft Flight Manual is required by § 21.5 of this chapter unless there is available in the aircraft a current, approved Airplane or Rotorcraft Flight Manual or the manual provided for in § 121.141(b); and (2) For which an Airplane or Rotorcraft Flight Manual is not required by § 21.5 of this chapter, unless there is available in the aircraft a current approved Airplane or Rotorcraft Flight Manual, approved manual material, markings, and placards, or any combination thereof.”

FAR 21.5, Airplane or Rotorcraft Flight Manual, states that “With each airplane or rotorcraft not type certificated with an Airplane or Rotorcraft Flight Manual and having no flight time before March 1, 1979, the holder of a type certificate (including amended or supplemental type certificates) or the licensee of a type certificate must make available to the owner at the time of delivery of the aircraft a current approved Airplane or Rotorcraft Flight Manual.”

This is a long-winded way of stating that if the aircraft was manufactured prior to March 1, 1979, it does not need an FAA-approved AFM, and if the aircraft was manufactured after March 1, 1979, it does need an FAA-approved AFM. 

The not-FAA-approved Owners Manual for my 1969 Cessna 150 does not contain any emergency procedures as specified in the GAMA POH/AFM format for Section 3. Does that mean emergencies didn’t happen in this airplane in the 1960s? Does that mean we should do nothing in an emergency in this aircraft today? Of course not. There are lots of things we include in our aircraft checklists that are not in the FAA approved flight manuals, including DMMS. (You’ve heard of that, right?) It’s always OK to go above and beyond the FAA requirements.

The rest of Chapter 9 is fairly straightforward.

Chapter 10: Weight and Balance

Once again, in this chapter we must wade through redundant content. The subject of balance, stability and center of gravity were all previously addressed in Chapter 5, Aerodynamics Of Flight. The Terms and Definitions section that begins on p. 10-4 is grossly over complicated for a student pilot flying a single engine trainer. For example, we are presented with three terms that essentially mean the same thing:

  • Basic empty weight (GAMA) – the standard empty weight plus the weight of optional and special equipment that have been installed
  • Licensed empty weight – the empty weight that consists of the airframe, engine(s), unusable fuel, and undrainable oil plus standard and optional equipment as specified in the equipment list. Some manufacturers used this term prior to GAMA standardization.
  • Standard empty weight (GAMA) – aircraft weight that consists of the airframe, engines, and all items of operating equipment that have fixed locations and are permanently installed in the aircraft, including fixed ballast, hydraulic fluid, unusable fuel, and full engine oil. 

For those of you using ForeFlight to calculate weight and balance, this popular app references basic empty weight (BEW). ForeFlight references three other terms that are listed on p. 10-5:

  • Maximum zero fuel weight (ZFW in ForeFlight) – the maximum weight, exclusive of usable fuel
  • Maximum takeoff weight (TOW in ForeFlight) – the maximum allowable weight for takeoff
  • Maximum landing weight (LDW in ForeFlight) – the greatest weight that an aircraft is normally allowed to have at landing 

Figure 10-9, Loading schedule placard, is painful to look at. Recall once more that a 15 year old student pilot of average intelligence should be able to read this book and understand all of its contents. A student of any age should be able to locate the weight and balance section in their aircraft’s manual, and use the aircraft’s weight and balance data certificate to determine whether the aircraft is loaded within the published parameters.

When I was a student pilot, I learned a very simple formula for weight and balance: W x A = M. Being a child of the 1980s, I remembered this formula as WAM, giving homage to one of my favorite boy bands at the time. I also remembered that CG = M / W because if you put the M on top of the W the points of the letters match up in a closed shape. That was good enough for the DPEs who completed all of my practical tests through CFII.

Chapter 11: Aircraft Performance

This chapter begins with more redundant content on the structure of the atmosphere and pressure, which was previously addressed in Chapter 4, Principles Of Flight. I wish the authors would consolidate this material into one location where it’s most relevant, which in my opinion is this chapter on aircraft performance. You’ll notice that Figures 11-2 and 4-3 (both labeled “Properties of standard atmosphere”) are identical. 

The author of this chapter should begin the section on density altitude by stating that density altitude is a measure of aircraft performance, not a number read off of an instrument in the airplane. For a student pilot, it’s important to first state the practical implications of density altitude, then explain how it is derived. Deep into the chapter, on p. 11-4 the author alludes to this by stating, “Regardless of the actual altitude at which the aircraft is operating, it will perform as though it were operating at an altitude equal to the existing density altitude.” But this explanation is still too vague and detached from reality. Maybe it would be best to include a link to this video instead:

 

On p. 11-6, the student pilot is once again faced with a series of mathematical formulas that have no practical application while flying an airplane. Yes, it’s important to understand the concept of kinetic versus potential energy, but the formulas are of no use to any pilot in flight. Figures 11-8 and 11-9, which compare the climb performance of jet and propeller airplanes, are also overly scientific and unnecessary. 

The section on range performance, which begins on p. 11-9, is also overly complicated. The main thing that a pilot needs to know about range performance is how to calculate how much fuel is required for a flight. The first step in calculating endurance is a simple division problem: total fuel onboard divided by the gallons per hour consumed in cruise (from POH) equals how many hours the airplane can fly before it becomes a glider. Then, subtract a one-hour reserve and you know how many hours you can fly before you need to land and refuel. Once you know this, you can use winds aloft forecasts to estimate your ground speed and total time enroute to determine whether you can fly nonstop to your destination, or if one or more intermediate fuel stops are required. No trigonometry or calculus is required for cross country flight planning. If the author of this chapter wishes to boast about his higher mathematics skills, he should republish this and other content in a separate book on aeronautical engineering. 

The section on takeoff and landing performance, which begins on p. 11-12, is reasonable but also includes some arguably gratuitous formulas like minimum dynamic hydroplaning speed (Figure 11-18) and effect of wind on takeoff and landing (Figure 11-19). Nobody is looking at this graph while attempting to land in a crosswind. 

One subject that’s often confusing to students, that this chapter could do a much better job of explaining, is how to use and interpret aircraft performance charts. Take for example the following Takeoff Distance chart for a Cessna 172P (below). You’ll notice that most aircraft manuals don’t give data for a “normal takeoff” but only for a “short field” takeoff. This is somewhat of a sales tactic, so the manufacturer can boast about how little runway their aircraft needs for takeoff. However, the smart pilot will apply a generous “fudge factor” to this data when attempting an actual short field takeoff. A runway that is short to one pilot may be sufficiently normal to another. It all depends on the pilot’s training and proficiency.

In any case, let’s take a look at the chart below. One of the conditions is that this data is predicated on a takeoff with the aircraft loaded at maximum gross weight. In Chapter 11 of the PHAK, the author goes to great lengths to explain how to calculate takeoff distance to the foot based on actual gross weight. But in reality, most often the pilot will not have the aircraft loaded to max gross weight and therefore actual takeoff distance will be less than advertised in the manual. Let’s say we’re flying N99725, a Cessna 172P, on a hot summer day where the outside air temperature is about 30 degrees C. We can see from the chart below that at a pressure altitude of sea level (our approximate field elevation here at KCRG), our ground roll would be 995 feet. Remember that pressure altitude is a theoretical value based on an altimeter setting of 29.92 and an outside air temperature of 15 C. So that means that under these conditions, we can expect this airplane to get airborne in 995 feet if we use the short field takeoff technique, and we are loaded at maximum gross weight. 

Takeoff Distance chart for a Cessna 172P.

But what if on this particular day, the ATIS reports an altimeter setting of 30.22 and the OAT is 20 C? If you reference Figure 11-22 in the PHAK, you can see that the pressure altitude would be 257 feet less than your field elevation (-257), which means we’d have to find a value in the takeoff performance table that’s 257 feet below sea level. This does not exist. But notice in the table that as pressure altitude increases, takeoff distance increases. So the only time the pressure altitude value in the table really matters is if the local altimeter setting is less than 29.92, which typically only occurs in deteriorating weather conditions. The student pilot can rest assured that if he simply selects the pressure altitude value in the table that’s closest to the field elevation, and then uses the column that matches as close as possible to the current outside air temperature, he’ll have takeoff data that is conservatively accurate.

Worth noting that the PHAK provides no guidance to the pilot on how to select an abort point during the takeoff roll. The Airplane Flying Handbook, on p. 6-14, vaguely references this concept but provides no specific guidance other than, “the POH/AFM ground roll distances for take-off and landing added together provide a good estimate of the total runway needed to accelerate and then stop.”

That’s why we’ve included a detailed discussion of this topic in our AQP For General Aviation handbook, which you can download for free on our website.

Cruise Performance chart for a Cessna 172P.

Next let’s take a look at the cruise performance table for this aircraft. Again, we need to select data based on pressure altitude. Let’s say we are planning a VFR cross country flight at 3,500 feet MSL, on a hot summer day when the outside air temperature at the surface is 30 C. Recall that the temperature options are standard temperature (15 C) or 20 C above standard (35 C) so the closest value for these conditions is 20 C above standard, at 4,000 feet pressure altitude. For a cruise RPM of 2400 we can expect a cruise TAS of 107 kts and a fuel burn of 7 gph. Recall that the standard lapse rate used to estimate temperature aloft is 3 C per 1,000 feet, which means the air aloft in this example should be about 10 C cooler than at the surface. But what if it’s a little cooler than that? Would we use the values for Standard Temperature? If we did, at the same altitude and RPM, we’re told that would result in a TAS of 108 kts with a fuel burn of 7.3 gph. Even if we flew for 3 hours, that would result in an extra fuel burn of only about 1 gallon at the original TAS of 107 kts (.3 gal x 3 hrs). So my advice to all pilots is to take the published performance numbers with the proverbial grain of salt, and always use the more conservative values that match your reality – the highest fuel burn, the lowest TAS. That way, the worst that will happen is you’ll show up a little bit early with a little extra fuel on board.

Personally, when flying any of our Cessna 172s, which can hold 40 gallons of fuel, I plan to burn 10 gph for a maximum of 3 hours which leaves me with a 1 hour reserve. This works even with the aircraft that have the 180-hp engine upgrade, which results in a slightly higher fuel burn.

Chapter 12: Weather Theory

This chapter is only 25 pages long and just scratches the surface of weather theory. In the last paragraph, the author references several advisory circulars on the subject but fails to mention more valuable resources like AviationWeather.gov and 800WxBrief.com

Chapter 13: Aviation Weather Services

It’s mind boggling to me that the author does not mention any online weather resources in this chapter, even after mentioning the availability of datalink weather on electronic flight displays (see p. 13-18). The author only says that pilots can call 800-WX-BRIEF to speak to a briefer. 

Chapter 14: Airport Operations

This chapter is long but includes a lot of good illustrations, many of which are taken directly from the Aeronautical Information Manual (AIM). I don’t have any real beef with the content of this chapter other than my longstanding preference for the overhead entry into the downwind leg at a non-towered airport versus the FAA’s preferred “teardrop entry” (see p. 14-4). 

Chapter 15: Airspace

Unfortunately, there’s just no getting around the rote memorization of airspace types, boundaries and rules. I haven’t yet devised a way to make learning airspace fun or exciting for my students. This chapter is appropriately short and to the point.

Chapter 16: Navigation

I appreciate that the author explains how to complete a paper navigation log using a plotter and a paper sectional. It is important for students to learn the fundamentals of pilotage and dead reckoning. However, this methodology doesn’t work well when using an electronic sectional such as can be found in ForeFlight. I’ve published an article on our website that details how to complete this task in ForeFlight; click here to read it.

This chapter goes into more detail than necessary on how to use VOR, DME and ADF, all of which are now considered second and third-tier ground-based navigation systems. According to the FAA, VOR is the official backup to GPS in the national airspace system, with GPS and ADS-B being the preferred means of course guidance and surveillance. 

Chapter 17: Aeromedical Factors

The FAA medical certification system is a total farce and needs to be abolished, but nonetheless it’s still a reality for most pilots. Click here to read my comments to the FAA on its MOSAIC proposal to revamp the sport pilot rules.

Chapter 17 of the PHAK covers all the required medical subject areas on the FAA knowledge test including the different types of hypoxia – hypoxic (thin air at high altitudes), hypemic (CO poisoning), stagnant (G lock, cold temperatures) and histotoxic (alcohol or drugs). I’ve always thought it would be much more useful for a pilot to know the top causes of hypoxia rather than memorize the various types by name. Hypoxia means “reduced oxygen” and this is bad for a pilot regardless of the root cause. 

I think the FAA would serve pilots better in this final PHAK chapter by including some NTSB reports that illustrate pilots who crashed and died due to spatial disorientation.

Summary

In conclusion, if I were a student pilot about to begin training at our flight school, I would purchase the Sporty’s Learn To Fly video course and reference the electronic copies of the PHAK and AFM only as needed for clarification. The FAA Private Pilot Airman Certification Standards (ACS) incorporates the PHAK and AFM by reference, in addition to a host of other FAA handbooks like the Weight and Balance Handbook. Students need to apply common sense and use good judgement when reviewing any educational materials, including third party products and YouTube videos. Take notes and ask good questions — and always remember, you are the customer!