The last time I flew on Frontier Flying Service, there wasn’t much about the experience to remind me of the hassles of flying on a large commercial carrier like Alaska Airlines.

In the predawn blackness, a few other fellow passengers and I shuffled out onto the tarmac next to Concourse A. We carried our own bags and secured them with the help of the first officer. No one bothered to look in the bags, and we hadn’t had to bare our feet or our laptops. Our names didn’t need to be checked against a “no-fly” list, or reported to the federal government for clearance. With seating for just 19 passengers and a range of about 1,700 nautical miles (that’ll get you to Seattle, but not too much further) Beechcraft 1900s like the ones used by Frontier haven’t been considered especially inviting targets for terrorist plots. At least they haven’t until now.

All that might change, though, if the Transportation Security Administration gets its way. Late last year the agency released a set of new proposed regulations they’re calling the Large Aircraft Security Program (LASP). Although it uses the term “large,” the aircraft TSA is proposing to cover with these regulations would include everything with a maximum takeoff weight of 12,500 pounds or more. That would cover such “large” aircraft as those Beechcraft 1900s—a steady workhorse in Alaska aviation. Any operations in such planes would have to meet the more stringent standards set for large commercial airliners.

Among other things, they’d have to check passenger lists with federal no-fly lists, perform more stringent background checks and prohibit dangerous items, much as larger airlines do now. The latter conflicts with an Alaska state law that requires all aircraft in the state to be equipped with a survival kit that includes a knife and an ax or hatchet. (A few years ago, the state dropped a requirement that a firearm be included, too.)

A position paper produced by the Alaska chapter of the Experimental Aircraft Association (a nationwide advocacy group, that, despite the name, works with all forms of general aviation) to be sent to Alaska’s congressional delegation estimates that it would cost $190,000 to bring an average plane into compliance.

“For the first time in U.S. history, citizens will have to get federal approval before using their personal transportation conveyance, every time, and for everyone onboard,” the paper states. “ALASKA cannot survive this legal onslaught of an unfunded mandate, the financial consequences of this ‘LASP’ are unbearable for the airports and the airport owners.” According to the EAA, 85 percent of the costs of compliance would be borne by the owners and operators of the affected aircraft and airports.

With Alaska’s unique dependence on aviation for communities off the road system, this state would be especially hard hit. (Despite this, the TSA neglected to schedule any public hearings here or in Hawaii, another state that could be more severely affected.)

Bob Ballard, who flies cargo from the Palmer airport in a DC-3, told the Alaska Journal of Commerce’s Rob Stapleton that he’d have to cease operations if the regulations are enacted.

Medevac flights too, depending on the plane, would be subject to the regulations. That worries David Lundeby, the manager for Merrill Field. Although Anchorage’s municipal charter limits use of the field to planes at the TSA’s 12,500-pound cutoff, they make an exception for medevac flights, which can taxi directly to Alaska Regional Hospital. A Cessna Citation jet on such a flight once landed there. That means Merrill—which operates solely on user fees—might be forced to pay for TSA staff and other security upgrades—although Lundeby hasn’t yet been able to calculate what those costs might be.

According to the Aircraft Owners and Pilot Association, seven airports in Alaska would be directly affected by the regs. That list doesn’t include airports like Palmer though, which don’t have any regular commercial service but would probably also have to comply, or other airports off the road system that do support regular service.

Like many others in the aviation industry, Lundeby wonders what all that extra expense is really buying.

“It’s just not a lot of benefit for the cost, I think,” he says.

It’s hard not to agree.

Is it really the best use of our taxpayer dollars—not to mention the considerable outlays these regulations would impose on private industry—to crosscheck the Kotzebue High School wrestling team with a federal no-fly list the next time they head to Barrow for a match? Or to ensure a sleeper cell operative isn’t getting airlifted to Alaska Regional?

At the moment, thanks to the work of folks like former Senator Ted Stevens, Alaska has an aviation system that works pretty well. It’s hard to see how adding layers of bureaucracy would make this state safer, and easy to see how the piles of unintended consequences could create serious problems for a state as dependent on aviation as we are.

krestia.degeorge@anchoragepress.com