There's some element of
déjà vu in the SP and LSA rules in that like Part 103, they were promulgated largely to regulate a sector of aviation that the FAA really didn't want to acknowledge, much less have to ride herd over. Truth be told, it began with hang gliders.
Back in the 1970's, a new sport called "hang gliding" was starting to get some news coverage. People were basically strapping wings to themselves,
sans license or FAA regulation of any sort, and jumping off cliffs. As new people became interested in the sport, some existing hang glider pilots went into the business of strapping students onto themselves and jumping off cliffs in tandem.
I remember when the sport started to get some publicity, in fact. When I was a teen-ager, I worked summers at a bungalow colony in the Catskills, and attended Aviation High School during the school year. Hang gliding had already become a topic of some interest and curiosity in school before it attracted much attention in the mass media; so come summer, I spent a few of my days off hitchhiking through the Catskills looking for hang gliders and trying to get a chance to fly one.
I finally found hang gliders at
Peekamoose Mountain after explaining to a friendly ride what I was looking for. "Oh, okay," he said, "You're looking for those crazies who jump off the cliffs with the wings tied to their backs." Yeah, them. He drove me up a trail to a clearing, and there they were: a peculiar combination of young hippie types and old geezers, and their brightly-colored wings.
I didn't get to fly one, however, because the instructors demanded a pesky thing called "parental consent" before allowing a minor to jump off a cliff with them; and had my parents known where I was, how I'd gotten there, and why, they probably would have had me committed. Or maybe killed me. Hard to say.
But the hang glider pilots were happy to talk to me about the sport, despite being somewhat disturbed by some of the early publicity that hang gliding had started to get. They were just as happy to keep flying under the radar (literally and figuratively) because they feared that publicity would bring FAA regulation.
For its part, the FAA really didn't want to have to regulate people who jumped off cliffs, at least partly because regulating them would require acknowledging them, and they really wished the whole fad would blow over. Besides, early hang gliders required cliffs to leap from, so the activity tended to be concentrated in the boondocks, where participants didn't present any risk to "real" aviation.
But then some hang-gliding aficionados started doing things like jumping off bridges and buildings, bringing about exactly the kind of publicity that most people in the sport (along with FAA) wanted to avoid. But probably the last straw before FAA had to so
something to corral the herd was when hang glider pilots decided to start attaching engines to their wings and calling them "powered hang gliders" so they could take off from the ground.
Part of the reason why hang gliding had presented an unusual regulatory question had been because it was considered somewhat of a stretch to call a pair of wings attached to a human being an "aircraft." But wherever that fuzzy line between "pair of wings" and "aircraft" was, attaching an engine and enabling the wings to take off from the ground and gain altitude under their own power seemed to qualify them as aircraft.
The FAA responded in an interesting way: Still having no desire to regulate this offbeat bunch, they promulgated Part 103, which simply redefines flying machines falling within certain parameters as Ultralight
Vehicles, not aircraft; and exempts people who operate those vehicles from most laws governing training, certification, registration, and so forth as long as they comply with a minimal set of restrictions on where, how, and under what conditions they operate them.
Of course, over time, these individuals (who, one must remember, were sort of an adventurous lot to begin with) started looking for ways to stretch the boundaries of the regulations; and by the mid-1980's ultralight pilots could be found at many rural airports stretching the instructional exemption to give paid "instruction" to anyone who wanted a ride.
Fat ultralight pilots had fairly commonly given rides to family and friends under the guise of instruction, and the FAA had just as commonly turned a blind eye to it because these "students" presumably knew what they were getting into. The same could not be said of ignorant city-slickers who drove past little airfields, thought to themselves, "Gee, that looks like fun," and then proceeded to take a "lesson." These people had an incorrect, but understandable assumption that anyone taking people up in any sort of flying machine for hire had to be operating under some sort of government oversight and had to have some sort of certification.
And in a way, they did. The fat ultralight exemption did require that the instructor be certified by EAA or USUA, for example, and these groups did try to police their members to the extent that they could. But again, remember that these individuals were of the adventurous sort by nature. Also, in fairness, what they were doing wasn't
that different from what many flight schools do to this day with "discovery flights." It's expected that not every student who takes one will proceed with his training. For some, it's basically a joy ride.
The difference, I think, was that the ultralight guys knew that few, if any, of the tourists they took up would actually become regular students (who presumably would know, and accept, that they were doing something that fell largely outside FAA's purview and was riskier than flying a certificated aircraft). I lived about ten miles north of a small airfield in Upstate New York for a couple of years back in the early 1980's, and during the tourist season, some of these guys openly advertised "Ultralight
Rides," not "
Lessons," on roadside signs. Only once the passenger was strapped in and the money collected did it become a "lesson," usually ending with the issuance of a single-sheet of paper with a log entry for the flight.
Unfortunately, not every flight ended that way. Some ended tragically, and the FAA found itself being pressured by Congress (who in turn were being pressured by insurance companies and attorney groups) to do
something to reign in these cowboys and their uncertified, uninspected flying machines. SP/LSA was the result.
Part 103 is still there. If you want to fly a lawnmower that happens to fall within the 103 definitions, you can do so. No training, no certification, no knowledge requirements, no aircraft certification or registration, no specific maintenance or inspection requirements. But also no passengers. Your right to endanger your own life flying pretty much anything you want that conforms to Part 103 is still intact.
But if you want to take someone for a ride, you must be an SP; if you want to teach someone to fly, you must be a CFI-LS; and in either case, the thing that you fly has to be an
aircraft that meet LSA requirements as to design, registration, maintenance, and so forth.
This is the background of SP and LSA. Both rules evolved from hang gliding, and the LSA that FAA envisioned looked a lot more like what Henning posted (and what I posted earlier) than "real" airplanes. That designers and manufacturers have managed to use innovative technology to make "real" airplanes that fall under the LSA definition is a tribute to their ingenuity, and will likely benefit all of aviation as these technologies prove themselves trustworthy. But these aircraft were not what FAA had in mind when the regulations were drafted; and those of us who fly them need to remember that to some extent, we're all test pilots, whether we want to be or not.
-Rich