Your Personal Minimums Only Matter If They're Personal
Article No. 6 in “From the Examiner’s Chair”
Personal minimums aren't numbers for a practical test—they're thoughtful, realistic commitments that help you make good decisions before external pressures begin influencing your judgment.
Introduction
Every pilot should develop personal minimums before every flight. Yet during practical tests, I often discover applicants who have never truly developed them at all.
"What are your personal minimums?"
The answers usually come quickly.
"I'd like ceilings above 5,000 feet."
"I won't fly with more than five knots of wind."
"Three miles of visibility."
The numbers sound thoughtful.
Sometimes they're even the "right" answers.
But after a few follow-up questions, it's often clear they aren't really personal minimums at all.
They're wishes.
They're guesses.
Or they're simply copied from the regulations.
Good personal minimums are something entirely different.
Your Personal Minimums Aren't Your Ideal Conditions
One of the most common answers I hear begins with the phrase,
"I'd like..."
"I'd like at least a 5,000-foot ceiling."
That sounds reasonable until I ask,
"So if the ceiling is 4,900 feet, you won't make the flight?"
The answer is almost always,
"Well...I'd probably go."
So I continue.
"What about 4,500 feet?"
Again,
"Yeah, I'd probably fly."
At that point I usually respond,
"Then you've told me your ideal conditions, not your personal minimums."
There's an important distinction.
Personal minimums are not the weather you'd prefer.
They're the point where you've already decided the answer is no.
They Have to Be Honest
Occasionally, applicants go the opposite direction.
Someone tells me they won't fly if the wind exceeds five knots.
Then we complete the oral examination, walk outside, and the wind is six knots.
Suddenly they're ready to fly.
Now they're forced to explain why today's six-knot wind somehow doesn't count.
The problem wasn't the wind.
The problem was choosing a number they never intended to honor.
There's nothing wrong with conservative personal minimums.
But they should be believable.
If your actual comfort level is closer to twelve knots, don't tell me it's five because it sounds safer.
Your personal minimums aren't there to impress an examiner.
They're there to protect you.
Legal Doesn't Automatically Mean Personal
Another answer I hear is,
"Three statute miles."
When I ask why, the response is usually,
"Because that's the legal minimum."
So I ask another question.
"What's the lowest visibility you've actually flown in?"
The answer is almost never anywhere close to three miles.
Many applicants have never experienced visibility anywhere near that low.
In fact, most are surprised by how restrictive three miles of visibility actually is.
The regulations establish the minimum level of safety society is willing to accept.
Your personal minimums should establish your minimum level of comfort and proficiency.
Those are rarely the same number.
Your Minimums Should Be Easy to Apply
Once we've discussed ceilings, I often ask another question.
"Is your ceiling minimum AGL or MSL?"
That question frequently produces a puzzled look.
Applicants sometimes respond,
"Well...I guess it depends on my cruising altitude."
Others say,
"It depends on the terrain along the route."
So I ask,
"Does it?"
Let's say the destination METAR reports:
OVC 5,200
If your personal minimum is 3,000 feet AGL, applying it is simple.
The reported ceiling is 5,200 feet AGL.
No calculations.
No adjustments for airport elevation.
No concern about your planned cruising altitude.
Your decision is immediate because you're comparing two values that use the same reference.
Many applicants initially think they should establish ceiling minimums in MSL because they spend much of the flight thinking in terms of altitude.
But ceilings aren't measured relative to your cruise altitude.
They're measured relative to the ground.
Using an AGL ceiling minimum makes it immediately compatible with the way ceilings are reported in METARs and TAFs.
Good personal minimums should be easy to use.
Because if every weather briefing requires you to convert, calculate, or reinterpret your own minimums, you're more likely to negotiate with yourself instead of making a clear decision.
The Decision Isn't Made at the Runway
I've had applicants establish personal minimums during the oral examination and then continue through the preflight inspection, engine start, taxi, and run-up while conditions exceeded those very limits.
Some have reached the hold short line before I stop the test.
The first thing I tell them is,
"I've got some bad news. The practical test is unsatisfactory."
They're understandably surprised.
Often they'll ask,
"Why?"
That's when I ask a simple question.
"What did you tell me your personal crosswind limit was?"
The realization usually comes quickly.
They know the winds.
They know what they told me earlier.
The decision had already been made.
The unsatisfactory wasn't because they were about to take the runway.
It was because they had already chosen to continue the flight after exceeding the personal minimum they had established for themselves.
The poor decision wasn't crossing the hold short line.
It wasn't accepting a takeoff clearance.
It occurred much earlier.
By the time we reached the runway, the evaluation of aeronautical decision-making had already taken place.
Your Minimums Should Match the Mission
Occasionally, particularly during CFI or other advanced practical tests, an applicant tells me they're very comfortable in strong crosswinds.
"Seventeen knots."
The forecast is well below that number, so there's no reason to question the statement.
Then we go fly.
The winds are perhaps seventeen knots, gusting to twenty.
The applicant begins taxiing.
The control yoke remains centered.
No crosswind corrections.
They taxi onto the runway.
The takeoff roll begins.
The controls are still neutral.
The airplane accelerates.
Still no meaningful crosswind corrections.
The airplane lifts off and immediately begins weathervaning.
The tires squeal as the airplane skips sideways before finally becoming airborne.
The practical test is over.
The applicant is often stunned.
Takeoffs are something most pilots never expect to fail.
During the debrief, I'll often hear something like,
"I thought I was comfortable in winds like that."
I believe them.
The applicant wasn't trying to mislead me.
More often than not, they simply overestimated their experience.
Perhaps they'd previously flown with seventeen knots of wind that was largely a headwind.
Perhaps the crosswind component had been much smaller than they realized.
Or perhaps they'd simply never experienced a true seventeen-knot crosswind before.
Whatever the reason, their control inputs told the story.
Pilots with genuine crosswind experience don't wait until the airplane starts drifting before making corrections.
They're positioning the flight controls while taxiing.
They're adjusting the ailerons continuously during the takeoff roll as aerodynamic forces increase.
They're anticipating what the airplane is about to do instead of reacting after it does it.
When an applicant taxis with the controls neutral, rolls onto the runway with the controls still neutral, and begins the takeoff roll without appropriate crosswind corrections, it tells me something important.
The issue wasn't confidence.
It was experience.
The practical test didn't reveal a weakness in the applicant's flying ability.
It revealed a weakness in the applicant's self-assessment.
Their personal minimums were based on what they believed they could do—not on what they had consistently demonstrated they could do.
Personal Minimums Should Consider the Mission
There's another question I wish more pilots would ask themselves.
Can I safely and accurately accomplish today's mission in these conditions?
That isn't always the same as asking,
Can I safely fly today?
Perhaps you're perfectly comfortable making a routine flight with seventeen knots of wind nearly aligned with the runway.
But today's flight isn't routine.
Today's flight requires precision.
Can you still perform a power-off 180° accuracy landing within standards?
Can you demonstrate Eights on Pylons while strong winds constantly change your groundspeed and pivotal altitude?
Can you maintain a stable steep spiral when the wind at 3,000 feet AGL is forty knots?
Those maneuvers demand considerably more precision than simply departing and arriving safely.
You may be completely comfortable making a routine flight in those conditions.
That doesn't automatically mean you're prepared to perform every maneuver a practical test requires while meeting the Airman Certification Standards.
Good personal minimums should account for the mission—not just the flight.
For Flight Instructors
Flight instructors have tremendous influence over how students develop personal minimums.
Don't let them become numbers memorized for a practical test.
Help students understand why they chose each value.
Challenge them.
Ask whether the numbers are honest.
Ask whether they're practical.
Ask whether they're easy to apply.
Most importantly, normalize delaying or canceling flights.
Students should never feel they've failed because they chose not to fly.
Sometimes the safest flight lesson is the one that never leaves the ground.
Putting It Into Practice
Before your next flight, write down your personal minimums for:
Ceiling (AGL)
Visibility
Crosswind component
Total wind
Gust factor
Weather hazards
Night operations
Pilot currency and proficiency
Fatigue
Passenger considerations
Then ask yourself:
Are these my actual minimums—or simply my ideal conditions?
Are they based on my demonstrated proficiency rather than the regulations?
Are they realistic enough that I'll actually honor them?
Are they easy to apply using a METAR, TAF, or weather briefing?
Do they reflect my current proficiency?
Do they consider the mission I'm about to perform?
Would I still honor them if today's flight were important?
If any answer is "no," your personal minimums probably need more work.
Characteristics of Good Personal Minimums
✓ They reflect my current proficiency.
✓ They are honest.
✓ They are based on my demonstrated experience—not my aspirations.
✓ They are more conservative than the regulations when appropriate.
✓ They are specific and measurable.
✓ They are easy to apply using common weather products.
✓ They consider the mission I'm about to perform.
✓ I will honor them even when it means delaying or canceling a flight.
From the Examiner's Chair
I've never questioned an applicant because their personal minimums were too conservative.
I have questioned applicants who abandoned those minimums the moment they became inconvenient.
More often, however, I discover something else.
Many applicants have never truly developed personal minimums at all.
They've confused ideals with limits.
They've substituted regulations for judgment.
They've based their minimums on what they believe they can do instead of what they've consistently demonstrated they can do.
Or they've failed to consider the mission they're about to fly.
Good personal minimums share a few important characteristics.
They're honest.
They're realistic.
They're easy to apply.
They reflect your current proficiency.
And they consider the mission you're about to fly—not just whether the airplane can safely leave the ground.
Most importantly, they're decisions you've already made before external pressures begin influencing your judgment.
Personal minimums aren't limitations. They're promises you make to yourself before external pressures begin influencing your judgment.
Because once you're negotiating with yourself, you're no longer relying on personal minimums.
You're simply hoping today's flight works out.
— Brad Kramer
FAA Designated Pilot Examiner
About the Author
Brad Kramer is an FAA Designated Pilot Examiner based in Evansville, Indiana. He has over 25 years of aviation experience and has conducted FAA practical tests for more than a decade. His goal is to help applicants and flight instructors better understand the principles behind safe flight operations, sound aeronautical decision-making, and the Airman Certification Standards.
