No experience needed: Pass this test and runway success could be yours

At its heart, air traffic controlling is about taking a complex, rapidly changing situation and organising it.

Tracing a route on a map to land an aircraft is (relatively) simple. Tracing routes for dozens of aircraft flying at different speeds and altitudes, with each required to land at a certain time, is fiendishly complex. Then you have to account for weather, turning speed, fuel ...

The application process starts out online, where a series of tests assess your logical and numerical reasoning, pattern recognition, processing speed and ability to visualise in three dimensions.

Below are four official sample questions for the test's inductive-reasoning section, courtesy of testing company SHL. They measure your ability to problem-solve, and think conceptually as well as analytically.

The top line of each question is a logical pattern. Study it, then choose the symbol on the second line (marked A to E) that logically comes next. The answers are at the end of the story.

Full explanation here.

If you pass the test, you’ll be invited in for a group interview that assesses teamwork and decision-making under stress.

Pass that (I was allowed to skip the test) and you’ll head, as I did, to the simulators.

The simulator is an almost-exact replica of an air traffic control console. Two screens plot the airspace under my command, and a radio headset lets me speak to my ‘pilots’ (who are sitting in the room next door).

I have two birds to land at Adelaide Airport – a lumbering Qantas passenger plane and a nimble air ambulance. A co-controller seated to my right has two of his own to bring in. Our job is to land them in order, one of mine followed by one of his. With that briefing, I’m on my own.

The first task is to set up a “circuit” above the airport – a basic holding pattern until I’m ready to land the planes.

I set up a path on the computer heading north away from the airport, and radio both pilots their instructions, and ask them to begin slowly descending.

But then, I’m hit with a moment of panic. I need to somehow get one of my co-controller’s planes to land in between the Qantas flight and the air-ambulance ... How on Earth do I do that?

He saves the day by offering to land his bird first. Phew. The value of team-work.

I continue to plot my planes' routes, now bringing them east. Each runway has its own approach line; the goal is to get my planes lined up and at the right altitude. Once the pilot sees the runway, they can handle the rest.

But it’s not as easy as moving dots on a computer. Each plane is different.

My co-controller is landing an A380 from Singapore; they are so big they generate a huge amount of turbulence, meaning other planes cannot fly too close. I have to keep going wider to give him plenty of space.

And my Qantas flight does not exactly turn on a dime. I feed the pilot instructions through the headset, but the lumbering jet turns very slowly, forcing me to readjust my course.

With all this going on, I forget to adjust the altitude on the air-ambulance, and am forced to rapidly yank him down from 5000 to 3000 feet. If this was a real exercise, there would be some unhappy doctors and nurses aboard.

Eventually, I have my planes lined up and at approach altitude. Time to land. But – panic – I’ve forgotten the codewords.

I take a random stab, and give my pilot clearance for ... “eyeless approach”? Was that right?

There is silence on the line as my mock pilot tries to work out what I mean. Crackle. Then, suddenly, he comes back, radioing his thanks for approval for the “ILS [instrument landing system] approach” ... I can hear muffled laughter on the other end.

But the bird comes down. “You did good,” says Mr Menere, and shakes my hand. I feel exhilarated and sweaty ... And intrigued about a career change.