(Farrar, Straus and Giroux; 193 pages; $24) Reviewed by Phaedra Hise San Francisco Chronicle, Copyright 2009 The flight lasted for not much more time than it will take you to read this review. A minute and a half after takeoff, the US Airways jet engines ingested several geese and failed. A little over three minutes later, Capt. Chesley 'Sully' Sullenberger gracefully planted the Airbus 320 in the Hudson River, and everyone was rescued. A short tale to hang an entire book on, but William Langewiesche is the best man for the job. 'Fly by Wire: The Geese, the Glide, the Miracle on the Hudson' isn't a hero's story, with inspirational details from Sullenberger's life. Instead, Langewiesche gives us an insightful analysis of the changing world of commercial aviation. As an author, Vanity Fair magazine editor and pilot, Langewiesche knows this territory well, and he approaches it with a sense of humor. There's a cleverly researched chapter about goose behavior near airports, including an explanation of the avian term 'cluster-flocking.' Langewiesche relies on cockpit transcripts, interviews and aircraft systems data to flesh out the minutest details surrounding the brief flight. You'll learn what Sullenberger ate for breakfast that morning and what movie his co-pilot watched the night before. Then Langewiesche finds more interesting information to beef up the narrative. Partway through, the book turns into a fascinating biography of the Airbus itself and what it is doing to commercial flight. The A320 was built by a European consortium started by Frenchman Henri Ziegler. His son, Bernard, became an Airbus engineer and test pilot, and designed the fly-by-wire computer system that runs the flight controls. He added some extra technology, and therein lies an aviation controversy. Ziegler designed the A320 to be somewhat pilot-proof, in that it has automatic limits built into the electronic flight control system. A pilot cannot, for example, exceed 2.5 times the force of gravity in maneuvers. And once a pilot positions the airplane for a turn or a climb, the A320 automatically makes the hundreds of continual micro-adjustments necessary to keep it perfectly positioned there, even if the pilot lets go of the controls. In essence, the A320's autopilot is always on, spotting, nudging and even overriding the human pilot. It sounds reassuringly safe, but most pilots hate the design. They complain that they can't 'feel' the airplane respond to their input and that they want to be in complete control at all times. Say, for example, a pilot is facing an unexpected mountain ahead. He or she may need to go past the force-of-gravity limit to make a steep avoidance turn. Exceeding airframe limits can sometimes cause structural damage, but isn't it better to land a slightly wrinkled airplane than crash a perfectly preserved one? On the other hand, mediocre pilots can fly the A320 safely, which probably minimizes accidents. And even Sullenberger, a stellar pilot by all accounts, benefited from having the A320 control system helping him all the way to the ground. That freed him to concentrate on other critical issues, like choosing a landing site, maximizing his glide time and trying to restart the engines. Ultimately, Langewiesche points out, commercial aviation is headed in the direction of even more automation, whether pilots like it or not. As Bernard Ziegler says, 'If you want to fly ... become test pilots. But flying for the airlines is not supposed to be an adventure.' These are insulting words to pilots who fly for love, battling sinking pay, layoffs and corporate bankruptcies. In 'Fly by Wire,' we learn that commercial flying is no longer a brave and glamorous job and that the Airbus will ensure that the brave and glamorous no longer will be attracted to it. Sullenberger is, sadly, among the last of a dying breed. Phaedra Hise is a pilot and author of 'Pilot Error: The Anatomy of a Plane Crash.' 