The Pilot Who Almost Crashed a Plane While on Mushrooms

On October 22, 2023, Joe Emerson boarded a flight from Everett, Washington to San Francisco, California. As an off-duty Alaska Airlines pilot, he was able to ride in the cockpit's jump seat. Once in the air, he became agitated and uncomfortable, and without much warning—save for a few strange glances—he suddenly leapt up and attempted to grab the engine fire shut-off handles, which if pulled would have sent the craft into free fall.

In audio of this incident, Emerson states, “I’m not OK” and, after being asked if feels alright, begins cursing as he springs into dangerous action. Fortunately, the pilots’ quick reactions stopped Emerson from accomplishing his goal, and in the aftermath of this near catastrophe, he was charged with, among other federal crimes, 83 counts of attempted murder.

Scarier still? Emerson’s explanation for his outburst was that, two days prior, he’d taken psychedelic mushrooms, and on this flight home, he couldn’t tell what was real and what was a dream.

Lie to Fly (August 23), the latest installment of FX’s The New York Times Presents-branded docuseries, is an investigation into Emerson’s saga—and amazingly, his use of mind-altering substances is the least stunning thing about it. To be sure, the fact that an experienced pilot went haywire thanks to ingesting psilocybin was attention-grabbing at the time, and is the primary selling point of this hour-long venture. Yet as elucidated by producer/director Carmen Garcia Durazo, Emerson’s story is also the most shocking evidence to date of a burgeoning United States aviation industry problem that threatens the safety of pilots and passengers alike, and seems to require large-scale reforms lest it blossom into a full-blown crisis.

Emerson knew from an early age that he wanted to fly. As a lonely kid, being in the air gave him the sense of “freedom” and purpose he’d always craved. In a new interview that forms the basis of Lie to Fly, Emerson talks candidly about his fondness for his profession, as well as its difficulties, given that traveling for a living means constant time away from home and, in his case, his wife Sarah Stretch and their two sons in Pleasant Hill, California. To maintain bonds with loved ones (and to make up for the fact that he often missed big events and had to cancel plans at the last second), Emerson would send his clan regular videos from his many pit-stops, some of which are depicted here. Despite these difficulties, however, Emerson was certain that being in the cockpit was “where I needed to be.”

If being a pilot put an inevitable strain on Emerson’s life, so too did the terrible news that his fellow pilot and close friend Scott Pinney (who’d been the best man at his wedding) had died of an out-of-the-blue cardiac event. This rocked Emerson, who in the ensuing weeks and months became very close with Pinney’s father Frank, who says that their relationship “literally changed my life.” They grieved over gin and tonics (a course of action that Emerson admits wasn’t shrewd), and in October 2023, Emerson and some of Pinney’s other friends took a vacation together on remote property owned by Frank. This spot included a yurt, and while the guys were all together, Emerson was cajoled into trying mushrooms, thus initiating mayhem two days later.

Lie to Fly has Emerson recount his under-the-influence ordeal, during which he became convinced that he was “trapped” and that nothing around him was real. This is harrowing in and of itself, and yet Durazo’s exposé is really about the larger issue at play here: Emerson’s prior hesitancy to seek out counseling and medical attention for his depression. The reason for that reluctance, it turns out, is a system that’s increasingly ill-equipped to grapple with modern realities. For pilots to receive medical certification, they must pass exams conducted by senior aviation medical examiners such as Dr. Brent Blue, whose reports are then sent to the Federal Aviation Admission (FAA) so a determination can be made about whether an individual is fit to fly. Any red flags can lead to deferrals, and because of staff shortages and bureaucratic obstacles, those can last for more than a year—a calamitous situation for pilots who love their jobs and for families that want to stay financially afloat.

Because medical deferrals can go on for extended stretches (there are no Congress-ratified rules governing timetables), and because common challenges such as depression and anxiety (and the SSRIs that counteract them) are viewed the same as serious conditions such as schizophrenia, many pilots simply don’t seek the care they need. What this means is that rather than being flown by men and women who are depressed and medicated, millions are potentially being flown by pilots who aren’t properly coping with their struggles.

Lie to Fly portrays Emerson as merely an extreme example of the consequences of this “culture of concealment,” and his tale is paired with that of John Hauser, a nineteen-year-old sophomore at the University of North Dakota—where he was studying to be a commercial pilot—who chose to take his life because he knew that, should he get help for his mental health issues, he’d jeopardize his chance to professionally fly.

Lie to Fly is bolstered by input from John’s parents, aviation lawyer Joseph LoRusso, University of North Dakota Assistant Professor of Aviation Dr. William Hoffman, and FAA U.S. Federal Air Surgeon Dr. Susan Northrup, all of whom speak to the intricacies of this important topic. Most heartrending of all, however, is Emerson, who discusses his plight with an anguish that’s colored by self-recrimination, fear, and frustration at a paradigm that makes pilots choose between their dreams and their health.

Such a dilemma can only, in the end, lead to bad choices. While Durazo’s documentary ends on a somewhat heartening note—with the FAA taking “baby steps” toward rectifying this state of affairs—it nonetheless paints an unnerving portrait of aviation industry shortcomings that put everyone at risk. It also, in the process, serves as a stark reminder that sometimes, there’s more to a story than just its sensationalistic headline.