14 Common Pilot Phrases And What They Mean

Remember that scene from "The Incredibles" where the mom (Helen Parr) pilots a jet? She outmaneuvers missiles, turns herself into an armored ball and then a parachute to save her kids from the exploding plane. It's animated fantasy, but the pilot's lingo used in that scene was dead-on accurate. And like most aviation jargon used in Hollywood, it sounds cool, but ultimately makes barely enough sense to understand the broad thrust of the scene. Luckily, you don't need to spend years in pilot school to figure out what's going on. A decent chunk of everyday pilot phrases — particularly in commercial aviation — require only a bit of explanation to comprehend.

We've discussed in the past why pilots say "mayday" in emergency and what "roger" means to pilots in military aviation. We've even discussed what the pilot is saying with all the dings you hear on the plane. Today, we're breaking out even more of the most common pilot words and phrases, their meanings, and their history. In case you find yourself getting lost while watching an aviation scene in a movie, here are 14 terms you might hear.

Believe it or not, "taxiing," in an aviation sense, comes directly from the taxi cars you normally associate the word with. Motor-powered taxicabs predate the invention of the airplane, so they ended up being the inspiration for the term. The term "taxi" in an aviation sense caught on in 1911. The reason airplanes "taxi" is because they look kind of like a taxicab that's driving around, slowly, waiting for someone to wave them down. Next time you go to an airport, look out the window at the planes as they taxi back and forth from the runway, and it's not hard to see why "taxiing" as a concept stuck.

Technically, taxiing refers to an aircraft moving under its own power before takeoff and after landing. Once an airplane reaches its runway holding position and takes off, it's no longer taxiing. This is distinct from "pushback", which is when a flat-bodied vehicle tows the plane where it needs to go. So in essence, when an airplane is taxiing, it has been given permission from the ATC (Air Traffic Control) to either get in line for takeoff or move to a gate where it will deposit its passengers.

Call signs are a staple of Hollywood's military depictions, and they're a big deal in real life, too. Even Air Force One has a call sign when the president's family is onboard: Executive One Foxtrot. In short, every pilot (or plane) has one to uniquely identify it. Among military pilots, obtaining one's call sign is a rite of passage.

In commercial aviation, the practice is more standardized. To create a commercial pilot's call sign, you combine agency telephony designators, aircraft manufacturer names and models, and flight identification numbers. Then you get something like "Airbus ABCDE" or "Rushair 1234."

Call signs emerged during WWII as radio communication became standard for aircraft. By the '80s, it was practically military doctrine and there were entire naming ceremonies around them — like Tom Cruise's Maverick from "Top Gun." Even prominent enemies sometimes get call signs, such as "The Red Baron" during World War 1.

Everyone's familiar with air traffic control towers, but you may not know the various other air traffic services running behind the scenes, or ATS for short. Most of this is encapsulated in the ATC, or Air Traffic Control Service, which is responsible for preventing collisions and managing traffic. There is also the FIS (Flight Information Service) and an advisory service, which together form an air traffic control (ATC) unit.

We are used to the ATS at airports that have towers and teams of air traffic controllers managing airspace around the clock. However, depending on the location, its capacity, available equipment, and the severity of the weather and geography, an ATS may be quite limited. In some cases, an aircraft passing over that airspace might only have the FIS and advisory service at its disposal. Pilots flying in and avoiding extreme weather in a remote area could thus have vanishingly few resources if something goes wrong.

At first, "How do you read?" may seem oddly phrased for our modern speaking conventions. It means, "Is my transmission clear?" or "Do you hear me well?" The "read" verb was common in the military during World War II when gauging how clear a transmission was. Phrases like "five by five" and "loud and clear" also originate from radio communication. 

Bad signals can be the difference between life or death in aviation. Pilots call the practice of speaking clearly and getting confirmation as "voice procedure," and it's why they use names like Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie to sound out individual letters.

Airplane mode on your smartphone is one example of how delicate those radio communications can be. One of the most common smartphone myths you need to stop believing is that airplane mode is essential. However, there is some truth to that myth. Phone signals can spoil the ones pilots rely upon to communicate and navigate. One thing that concerns aviators is how close your 5G cell connection is to the frequencies they use. In short, even with today's advanced communication technologies, pilots must still rely on voice procedure and use phrases like "how do you read?"

Wilco is a beloved piece of military jargon you'll see all over the popular media, from movies to video games. Yet it is likely not obvious what it means without some context, sounding like some distant cousin of Costco. Plain and simple, Wilco is an abbreviation of "will comply." Specifically, it means that a pilot has understood the message correctly and will comply with it. Like most radio terminology, wilco came about as early as 1935 in the lead up to World War II .

It's important not to confuse wilco with another pilot's favorite, "Roger." "Roger" only means that the last transmission was received, not that it will be obeyed. "Wilco" includes the intention to do what a transmission says. So if you've ever heard someone saying "Roger Wilco," it's redundant and would probably boil the blood of any seasoned pilot.

We've established by now the importance of pilots being abundantly clear and intentional when speaking on the radio, so you can probably guess what "readback" means. It's when pilots are required to "read back" (or repeat) the instructions the ATS has given them and ensure nothing was misunderstood. Radio signals can falter and suffer interference, causing you to hear only a portion of the message from the other side. To mitigate this, pilots do readback and the recipient performs its opposite — hearback.

Readback is non-negotiable when receiving instructions of a critical nature. If the pilot is told to cross the runway — something that could have horrific results if done without expert guidance — they absolutely need to readback that order. And just to be clear, getting readback doesn't mean the pilot has to act if they have doubts. Pilots are encouraged to ask for clarification as much as they need to, since miscommunications can always happen and the consequences could be dire.

Climate change is making our flights bumpier. According to some experts, we may see a doubling or tripling of turbulence in the coming years, which may make the worst seats on a plane even more uncomfortable. When talking among themselves or to the ATC, pilots have several words to describe different kinds of turbulence. One word they use is "chop."

Chop has nautical origins, describing the way the ocean can knock around a ship when the waters are restless — or in this case, when the air is. Specifically, chop refers to minimal turbulence that presents little risk. Pilots grade turbulence from light to moderate and severe. Each category can have its own chop, the lightest form of that turbulence category. Then there are phenomenon similar to turbulence. Take windshear, when wind velocity changes abruptly and results in a bumpy ride.

You might hear pilots say that the plane has hit an "air pocket," too. But that's just a euphemism to calm anxious passengers — similar to how a doctor says you'll feel pressure instead of feeling pain. Scientifically speaking, there's no such thing as an air pocket.

It's pretty hard to believe how high planes and military drones fly. Commercial planes fly at about 35,000 feet (10,668 meters), which translates to about 6.5 miles (10.46 kilometers). Pretty impressive, when most U.S. airlines offer Wi-Fi powerful enough to stream your favorite shows at those heights. Since it's not exactly efficient to talk about altitude in the tens of thousands of feet, pilots will instead simplify things with the term "flight level" when at high altitude.

They don't start using the term flight level until they hit the so-called "transition level," or about 4,000 feet above sea level at the lowest — such as places in Europe — although transition levels can be as high as 18,000, like in the U.S. As you can see, the transition level will change depending on which jurisdiction a pilot is flying in.

To give an example of how flight level is used, suppose the pilot says they're at FL250 (flight level two-fifty). That means 25,000 feet above mean sea level. However, in the interest of accuracy, it's important to note that flight level isn't about altitude — it's about atmospheric pressure. It certainly is a lot easier and faster than saying "We're flying at 25,000 feet."

If you fly a lot, you may have noticed that you don't actually take off at the time it says on your ticket. Even after everyone has boarded, it seems to take forever for the plane to actually get airborne. If you have a window with the right view, you might see the reason why; planes are lining up and taxiing onto the runway one by one for their turn to lift off. This process happens when ATC tells a pilot to "line up and wait."

The reason why isn't just that only one airplane can take off from the runway at a time, it's that the planes need to be spaced out to mitigate wake turbulence. In layman's terms, this is when a large plane leaves strong turbulence behind that needs to clear up before the next in line can take off smoothly. If planes take off one after another in too-tight succession, then they can easily lose control of the aircraft.

Thus, ATC will tell pilots to line up and wait. They're not allowed to take off until given further instructions. So don't blame the pilot if it seems like things are taking forever. Their hands are tied.

As unintuitive as it may seem, air travel is actually the safest means of travel. You're far more likely to be injured or killed in a car accident than in a plane crash — in fact, about 90% of people survive plane crashes, according to a National Transportation Safety Board study. Pilots train for years before taking lives into their hands, their equipment is inspected and repaired rigorously, and there is a strict protocol observed from takeoff until landing. Sadly, accidents still do happen, and any pilots near an emergency may hear the following phrase: "Ninety-nine."

The phrase "ninety-nine" means an aircraft emergency has happened. It includes two instructions: one, radio silence must be maintained, and two, no one should get in the way of emergency vehicles. A much more common phrase is "pan-pan," which means there's a non-emergency issue with the plane. Likewise, everyone on the radio should keep quiet during a "pan-pan" until the problem has been addressed. Neither of these phrases, by the way, are ones you would hear over the intercom.

"Hold short" is a simple command that is treated with great reverence since a miscommunication here could be devastating. Simply put, this is when ATC tells the pilot to stop before getting onto the runway. While holding short, the pilot will remain on the taxiway, which are those interconnecting roads that take the planes from aprons to runways.

The "hold short" command is one of a few that requires a readback, regardless of the situation. Remember, a readback is when the pilot must repeat the instructions they've just heard to confirm that they've understood them correctly. As you can imagine, too many planes lined up on the taxiway could obstruct one of the runways or gum up the flow of traffic.

One example of how important it is to follow simple instructions like a "hold short" was the near-disaster with Air Canada Airbus 320 landing in SFO in the in 2017. The Airbus 320 nearly collided with four fully-loaded passenger planes waiting on the taxiway. Had this not been a near miss, it would have been "the greatest aviation disaster in history," Capt. Ross Aimer told Mercury News. If another plane had mistaken a "hold short" instruction and not done a readback, the disaster could have been even more costly.

Believe it or not, pilots can actually fly more or less blind, relying 100% on their instruments without visuals — such as in thick fog or clouds. This is known as an instrument rating, and it's a test every pilot has to pass to get certified. On the opposite side of the spectrum we have VFR, which stands for Visual Flight Rules. In the latter case, pilots rely more on visuals than instruments, particularly to avoid collisions with other aircraft.

There are several reasons why a pilot may rely on VFR. First and foremost, it's good practice even when their instruments are reliable. A pilot should always have strong awareness of their surroundings when the weather is clear. Second, there may not be proper facilities in place to direct them, such as ATS in the airspace they're flying through. Third, VFR flying allows pilots to alter their course more freely rather than sticking to a strict flight plan. 

Deadhead sounds like the most foreboding entry on this list, but it's actually one of the most benign. Flight attendants and pilots will often be transported on the same airline they work for when off-duty. Suppose, for example, a flight attendant who lives in South Carolina needs to be on a flight leaving from Florida. Getting on a flight to Florida, they'd be "deadheading," and the pilots may mention — amongst themselves — that they have deadheads on board. The origin of the phrase is not 100% clear. It's likely a reference to an earlier meaning of the word "deadhead," when someone either got a free ticket or a vehicle flew without passengers or cargo.

In fact, it was due to deadheading that we got that viral United debacle back in 2017. You may remember the video of the incident. Passenger David Dao was on an overbooked flight on the way to an important assignment. Upon refusing to give up his seat, he was manhandled violently off the plane. Why was the airline so adamant on removing passengers from this overbooked flight? Because there was a deadhead crew of four that needed to be on that plane. To be clear, United handled the incident very poorly, and dragging passengers off an overbooked plane isn't common practice. But the next time you fly, you might be seated next to a "deadhead" off-duty crew member.

Have you ever wondered how pilots keep track of time? After all, a plane can travel so fast that long-haul flights will put passengers in a time zone many hours ahead or behind that of their origin. It's easy to see how that could create massive logistic and safety problems when a faraway pilot and the destination airport need to be on the same page. Thus, we have "Zulu Time."

Zulu Time is just Greenwich Mean Time and it's used by air traffic around the world as the prime meridian and the singular aviation time zone. The prime meridian, by the way, is the dividing point between hemispheres, or a longitude of 0 degrees. The reasoning behind Greenwich Mean Time or "Zulu time" is arbitrary. In 1675, King Charles II built the Royal Observatory in Greenwich. Two centuries later, in 1884, Britain made it the prime meridian in an international agreement bolstered by the International Radio Consultative Committee in 1960. 

As for the Zulu part, Zulu stands for the letter "Z" in the phonetic alphabet used in radio communications. Since another word for prime meridian is "zero meridian," the military started calling it "Zulu time." The name stuck, and pilots to this day call it Zulu Time.