It was the maiden flight of our Skydio X10, a sophisticated “police-grade” drone priced at roughly $25,000. As an unmanned aircraft systems coordinator, I’ve logged many flight hours, but that afternoon by the lake, I decided to demonstrate the aircraft’s most basic safety feature: the autonomous return-to-home function.

One press of a button should send the drone safely back to its takeoff point. But on the X10, the “return-to-home” command sits next to the “land now” command on the same interface. A slight drift of the thumb can turn a safe return into an immediate descent.

I pressed the center of the screen. Instead of flying back to me, the aircraft began a steady, robotic descent toward the center of the lake.

The feeling of helplessness is like the split-second panic of dropping your smartphone into a sewer grate — except the stakes are the size of a used car. By sheer luck, it missed the water by about 4 feet and settled into brush along the shoreline.

No damage. No headlines. But it left me with an unsettling thought: If a trained operator flying professional equipment can nearly cause a disaster on Day 1, what’s happening elsewhere in the sky?

The problem isn’t the technology. It’s that the rules governing it are largely invisible to the people using it.

Drones are expanding rapidly across the Chicago region. Amazon plans to launch drone deliveries this summer from fulfillment centers in the Chicago suburbs of Markham and Matteson, sending 80-pound aircraft within an 8-mile radius of those facilities.

The shift isn’t limited to one company. Walmart, through its partnership with Wing, is expanding drone delivery service to more than 40 million Americans. Chicago will not be far behind.

Whether for packages or public safety, the sky above is getting crowded by drones.

At the same time, local police departments are rapidly scaling up drone programs. In the aftermath of the Highland Park parade shooting, many suburban departments accelerated the adoption of unmanned aircraft for search operations, disaster response and large public events. Communities that once debated privacy concerns began seeing drones as a necessary public safety tool.

Yet public understanding has not kept pace. To most people, a drone looks like a gadget. To the Federal Aviation Administration, it is legally an aircraft, and that distinction carries real responsibility. The FAA provides guidance and testing requirements, but the message hasn’t reached most drone users.

Today, the barrier to entry is a credit card. Anyone can order a drone online and have it delivered the next day. But manufacturers and retailers have no obligation to clearly explain licensing requirements.

We’re living in a gap where the technology is widely available, but the rules surrounding it are poorly understood.

In my classroom, I see the same reaction every semester. Recently, two active-duty police officers enrolled in my Part 107 course — professionals trained to know and enforce the law — and were surprised by what they didn’t know.

That is not a personal failure. It is a system failing to reach the people it is meant to inform.

Even with remote ID, essentially a digital license plate for drones, many aircraft are still flown by operators with little understanding of airspace restrictions, safety rules or privacy concerns.

My near-disaster at the lake was a reminder of how thin the margin for error can be.

Luck saved my drone that day. Luck is not a safety policy.

Illinois lawmakers should require retailers and manufacturers to provide clear, plain-language information about drone licensing and safety rules at the point of sale. If we require warnings for medications, firearms and even lawn equipment, the same standard should apply to aircraft that shares our airspace.

Local governments must also commit to public education as they expand police drone programs. Without transparency about how and when these tools are used, public trust and safety are at risk.

The sky above Chicago is changing fast. Delivery, police and recreational drones are becoming a part of daily life.

The moment someone picks up a drone controller, they become a pilot. The least we can do is make sure they understand the rules before they ever leave the ground.

Louis Martinez is an unmanned aircraft systems coordinator and professor of law enforcement at Oakton College in Des Plaines. He is a retired Chicago police officer who writes about policing and public safety.