When To Say No Go: Mastering the Toughest Decision in Flying

5 min read
Nov 26, 2025

The hardest decision I’ve made as a pilot was on the ground, standing by the airplane, wrestling with whether it was safe to go. 

Everything was ready—the flight plan, the passengers, mostly good weather—yet something didn’t feel right. I didn’t want to cancel, but I knew deep down I should. If I were a betting man, I’d bet many of you have felt the same.

I did cancel that flight. And I’ve never once regretted it. That’s the thing about the decision not to fly: you’ll rarely hear a pilot say they wished they’d gone. But you’ll hear plenty say they wish they hadn’t.

Why It’s So Hard To Say No

We don’t like backing out of things. Pilots are problem-solvers by nature. We make things work. 

But flying isn’t the place for forcing it. Too many accidents start with a pilot who was determined to go and figured they could sort things out once they were airborne. That creates pressure, which can significantly affect our decision-making.

When you boil it down, the decision to go—or not—has less to do with the airplane and more to do with the pilot’s mindset, and that’s where things get tricky.

Use a Framework, Not Your Gut

We’ve all had that feeling in our gut that something isn’t quite right. But gut feelings are slippery. That’s why we need a structured way to make the go/no-go call, especially before the engine starts turning.

The FAA gives us the PAVE checklist, and it works. Imagine yourself on the ramp getting ready to preflight:

  • Pilot: Am I fit to fly? (Think IMSAFE: Illness, Medication, Stress, Alcohol, Fatigue, Emotion.) Be honest here. If you’re off, you’re off.
  • Aircraft: Is this airplane ready? Not “probably fine”—ready. Squawks fixed. Fuel where it needs to be. No guessing.
  • enVironment: Weather, NOTAMs, airspace—am I good with what’s out there? Have I flown in this stuff before?
  • External Pressures: This one is huge. Is someone waiting on me? Am I pushing because of time, ego, or money?

Any red flags? That’s your signal. Stop and think. Better yet, stop and don’t go. If you choose to go and the accident happens, what will you say to the FAA/NTSB, assuming you’re still alive?

For the sake of this reading, you pass the PAVE checklist, and you take the flight. During the flight, the weather drops below VFR, and you’re not instrument-rated. What would you do? Take a look at the following NTSB case study to find out what another pilot chose to do.

NTSB Case Study: “I’ll Just Stay VFR”

Florida thunderstorm

 

Piper PA-28R-201T – Cedar Key, Florida – March 3, 2003

On a late winter evening, a private pilot launched from Key West, Florida, bound for Tallahassee in a Piper Arrow. He wasn’t instrument-rated. He didn’t get a preflight weather briefing before departure, though he did talk to flight service en route. 

What he knew: a large frontal system was stretching across the Gulf of Mexico and northern Florida. Embedded thunderstorms, widespread rain, and marginal VFR were all along his route. He pressed on anyway.

The Weather at the Time

  • A stationary front stretched across the Florida peninsula into the Gulf.
  • The National Weather Service surface analysis before takeoff showed marginal VFR conditions in north-central Florida.
  • The area forecast called for broken to overcast clouds at 4,000 feet, with tops to 20,000 feet, light rain showers, and embedded thunderstorms.
  • Near the crash site, continuous rain showers were reported, along with isolated embedded thunderstorms.
  • At Cross City, the nearest reporting station, the weather at the time was the following:
    • Wind: 100° at 3 knots
    • Ceiling: Overcast at 1,000 feet
    • Visibility: 3 to 5 miles in rain
    • Temperature/Dew Point: 12°C / 11°C
    • Altimeter: 30.01"

Despite all this, the pilot kept flying, picking his way through what he described as “buildups” and “overcast areas.” He even admitted he was trying to “maintain VFR” while flying in clouds. ATC offered help. He refused an IFR clearance, citing “a little reliability problem with one of our instruments.”

Radar showed the plane descending through 12,600 feet to 8,800 feet, entering areas of heavy weather echoes. Soon after, the airplane entered a steep descending turn. It broke apart in flight and crashed into the Gulf of Mexico. Both the pilot and passenger were killed.

Probable Cause (NTSB)

  • The pilot’s continued VFR flight into IMC, despite receiving multiple weather advisories.
  • Loss of control that resulted in flight exceeding design limits, leading to an in-flight breakup.
  • Overconfidence in personal ability was listed as a contributing factor.
  • The pilot’s medical certificate had expired. He wasn’t current or legal.

Key Takeaway

He knew the weather was bad. He had information that should have convinced him to stay on the ground—or at least turn around. But he chose to press on (source: NTSB Report MIA03FA071). 

That example is full of problems from the start. He wasn’t instrument-rated; he didn’t get a preflight weather briefing; his medical wasn’t current. Upon further examination of the NTSB report, just about all of his “instrument training” was logged without an instructor signature. His decision to go proved fatal for him and his passenger.

Red Flags That Should Make You Think Twice

Pilot performing preflight check

 

I’ve seen many pilots, myself included, talk themselves into a flight that they had no business launching. Here are the big warning signs I watch for now:

  • Marginal weather. Marginal is code for “I hope it holds.” You’re gambling!
  • Fuel that’s cutting it close. This is entirely preventable!
  • Aircraft issues you’re brushing off. If something’s bugging you about the plane, it’s for a reason. Again, it’s a gamble!
  • You’re distracted, tired, or rushed. That’s not when you bring your A-game. And you need your A-game. This creates the most pressure, as we’ll discuss more later.

A Simple Scenario

You’re a new private pilot, about to launch on your first solo cross-country since getting your certificate. The sky is decent at the airport, but it looks a little darker to the west. METARs are still VFR, but ceilings are lowering.

What do you do?

  • Have you flown in decreasing weather before?
  • Do you know your outs—diversion airports, turn-back points?
  • Are you ready to call it off if things don’t look right once you’re out there?

If you’re hesitating, it’s probably not the day. In fact, you know you shouldn’t go. So don’t!

How To Make Saying No Easier

  • Make your decisions the night before. Sleep on them. The ramp isn’t the best place to make hard calls.
  • Tell passengers ahead of time: “If I’m not comfortable, we don’t go.” That sets the expectation. I have used this one many times before, and I’ve never been questioned.
  • Know your personal minimums, and write them down. Never exceed your personal minimums. Once you start exceeding them, it is called the normalization of deviance. 

The best pilots I know have a story about a time they didn’t go, and they’re here to tell it. It takes guts to say, “Not today.” You’ll fly another day. Make sure of it.