It must strike one as an incredible fact, especially when spoken about in the modern era of massive (total) employment of a GLASS-COCKPIT design concept, of which the ultimate implementation might (or already has) bring about the arrival of such an advanced flight deck, fully stuffed with those digital gizmos; it could provide you with the capabilities of a "single pilot, 300-min ETOPS transcontinental jet", but...

But the mundane truth is that the Tupolev-154B, when off the ground, is still under the control of a crew of four; and no matter what kind of flight it has been assigned - either a routine practice in an aerodrome pattern, or required to operate 5-hour long trans-siberian haul.

For the more than 30 year 154's history, once in a while, here and there, the aircraft has been known to have been switched into an "advanced" mode of operation - by the crew of three, - exactly how it was designed by the original cockpit layout philosophy, and by the set of operational duties for each crew member.

In practically all cases it was the navigator's onboard position, that would have to be sacrificed for "the sake of progress". As a result, one day a captain (Pilot-in-Command) of such an abridged crew might discover that the flight deck besides himself, is only occupied by a Second Pilot (co-pilot, or "First Officer", as you're more accustomed to call this guy) sitting on the right nest, and a "Board Engineer" (Flight Engineer),with whom the captain could not spot or communicate without calling him up on the intercom, or by turning his own head 140 degrees over the right shoulder.

see this process animated >>

Nevertheless, despite all the woes, all the menacing clouds that have accumulated over the "hot" navigator's spot for these 30 years plus, captains of today's Tupolevs are still (myself as well) having to force that "miracle of surviving" navigator to bow extremely down, in order to provide the captain with a clear view of the flight engineer, and his spacious instrument panel.

I reminisce how it used to be in the Soviet Union - when they ran loud campaigns aimed at "weeding out" the entire "species of navigator" from the cast of all officially listed aviation professions. Interesting, that those campaigns almost always followed a kind of scenario - the way so typical for the "Soviet-era crusades", either successful ones or failed - and exploring them, you could learn a lot about the inner work of that extremely centralized machinery of the planned economy.

The most critical time for the navigators' very existence usually came when the two initiatives - of "down- and up-ward draft" were starting to draw together with frightening rigor. Say, the then Ministry of Civil Aviation of the Soviet Union might have proclaimed a proposal requiring all pertinent subordinated bodies to "respond to the newest trends" and "make the air transportation more economically efficient" by transitioning to the new modes of aircraft utilization. I.E., implementing the three-crew operation on Tupolevs and other aircraft.

In the wake of such a proposal there could be a number of consecutive actions that would come into effect. For example, the Ministry's Department of the Apprentice Training and Education would have issued a directive for its institutions to reduce the number of navigator-aspiring applicants during the annual enrollment intakes.