Leadership · Communication · Systems

What a Plane Crash Taught Me About Team Communication

Looking at a tragic aviation disaster through the lens of modern teams: hierarchy, hesitation, and what happens when no one feels able to say the obvious.

In 1977, two Boeing 747s collided on a foggy runway in Tenerife. It remains the deadliest accident in aviation history. On the surface, it was a story about bad visibility and bad luck. Underneath, it was a story about communication — and everything that got in the way of it.

When I first read the transcript from the cockpit voice recorder, it didn’t feel like history. It felt like a meeting I’d been in: people under pressure, incomplete information, power dynamics, assumptions, and a growing sense that something was off — without anyone feeling fully able to say it.

The moment no one names

On the KLM flight, the captain was a highly respected training captain. The first officer and flight engineer both raised small concerns — about the clearance to take off, about the other plane possibly still being on the runway. But their language was tentative:

“Is he not clear, that Pan American?”

It wasn’t a direct “We are not cleared to take off. Stop.” It was a softer nudge, filtered through hierarchy, habit, and the pressure of a delayed schedule.

The captain moved ahead. The other plane was still on the runway. The rest is tragedy.

How this shows up in modern teams

Most of us are never going to make life-or-death decisions at 150 knots in the fog. But the same patterns show up in our day-to-day work:

  • A senior leader is excited about a strategy that doesn’t match reality on the ground.
  • A team is overwhelmed, but every status update sounds “on track.”
  • Someone sees a risk, but mentions it in the softest possible way — and feels relieved when the conversation moves on.

In coaching conversations with individuals and teams, I hear the same tension: “I had a feeling this wasn’t right…but I didn’t quite know how to say it.” Or: “I did say something, but not as clearly as I wish I had.”

Why clear communication is so hard

When we talk about “better communication,” we often act as if it’s just about skills: be more assertive, give feedback, ask better questions. Skills matter, but they’re sitting on top of a whole system of incentives, fears, and learned survival strategies.

  • Hierarchy. If someone has more positional power, it’s harder to contradict them — especially if our career depends on their evaluation.
  • Belonging. Many of us learned early that being “easy to work with” meant not making things uncomfortable.
  • Speed. When the system rewards shipping fast and looking decisive, slowing down to question the plan feels expensive.
  • Emotional load. If we’re already stretched thin, raising a concern might feel like one emotional task too many.

In other words: if someone doesn’t speak up, it’s rarely because they don’t care. It’s often because the system has quietly trained them not to.

What we can learn from Tenerife

After Tenerife, aviation didn’t just say “pilots should communicate better.” The industry overhauled how crews worked together. They developed what’s now known as Crew Resource Management (CRM): a whole set of practices focused on communication, shared awareness, and using all available voices in the cockpit.

They changed the system, not just the individuals.

Some of the shifts included:

  • Clearer language around critical actions (“stop,” “go around,” “I am not comfortable”).
  • Training that emphasized speaking up across hierarchy when safety was at stake.
  • Structures that made it easier for multiple perspectives to be heard.

The result wasn’t perfection — aviation is still a human system — but it became much safer. The patterns that led to Tenerife became less likely to repeat.

Translating this to our teams

Most teams don’t need a formal CRM program. But we can borrow the underlying principles. A few places I often start with clients:

1. Make it normal to name risk early

If the only time risks are mentioned is in a project postmortem, you’ve already lost. Build small, regular moments where people are explicitly invited to name what feels risky or off — without having to instantly solve it.

2. Agree on “clear language” for concerns

Soft language (“I’m not sure, but maybe…”) isn’t bad — it’s often how we take care of each other. But you can also agree on phrases that mean:

“This is serious; please stop and pay attention.”

For example:

  • “I’m concerned we’re missing something important here.”
  • “I don’t feel comfortable with this plan yet.”
  • “I need us to pause and look at this risk.”

3. Notice who gets to be “right” and who gets to be “polite”

In many teams, some people are culturally allowed to be blunt and opinionated, while others are quietly expected to stay gentle and deferential. Pay attention to who you unconsciously give that permission to — and who you don’t.

If you’re in a leadership role, you can explicitly invite and reward dissent, especially from folks with less formal power.

4. Treat communication issues as system issues

When something goes wrong, it’s tempting to say, “Someone should have spoken up.” That might be true, but it’s not enough. Ask instead:

What in our system made it harder for them to do so?

Maybe it was how performance is evaluated. Maybe it was how past feedback has been received. Maybe it was the pace you’re moving at. There’s usually more to the story than individual courage.

Bringing it back to you

You don’t need a cockpit disaster to justify paying attention to team communication. Most of the time, the stakes are quieter: misaligned projects, slow-burning resentment, missed opportunities, people quietly deciding to leave.

But the core question is the same:

Where in your work do people have a sense that something is off, but don’t quite feel able to say it?

That’s a formative moment. How you respond — as a leader, as a teammate, or as the one feeling the tension — can open up a new pattern or reinforce an old one.

In my coaching and team work, this is often where we begin: with the thing that isn’t being said, or the thing that was said too softly and then ignored. From there, we can start to design different conversations — and different systems to hold them.

If you’re noticing some of these patterns in your own team, we can explore them together.

Reach out if you’d like support in making those conversations a little safer, clearer, and more honest.