The temptation, when pondering the actions of Germanwings pilot Andreas Lubitz, is to wonder at how our fellows are “unknowable”. For all the analysis, how close we will ever get to discerning what went on in Lubitz’s mind? Yet perhaps there is a lesson in discriminating between what he did and the general, overwhelming, chatter about the effects of depression.
It will take years for the courts to establish whether Lufthansa was responsible for knowingly employing someone who was unfit for service. But what Lubitz did doesn’t belong within a definition of depression – it was murder. You can’t spend 10 minutes listening to your colleague pleading for his life and the lives of everyone else on the plane while watching the mountains rise up to meet you without belonging to a different order of being, the tiny minority of out-and-out killers.
A beige population with no life experience is also lacking in the insight that the low moments can bring
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