Sal W6SAL - Updated on: 2025-12-17
Look, I love ham radio. I really do. There’s something beautiful about talking to someone in Kazakhstan using nothing but radio waves and good intentions. But you know what I don’t love? The ARRL band plan chart.
You’ve seen it. You know the one. It’s that colorful disaster hanging in your shack that looks like someone threw up a rainbow onto a frequency spectrum and called it “helpful.” It’s the chart that makes you go cross-eyed trying to figure out if you’re looking at a General class privilege or if you’ve just developed an astigmatism.
Technician • General • Extra Class Privileges
Here’s the thing about the official ARRL band plan - and I say this with all due respect to the fine folks at ARRL who do important work - it looks like it was designed by a committee of people who all wanted to include their favorite color. And their favorite font size. And their favorite abbreviation scheme. And then they said, “You know what this needs? MORE TINY LETTERS.”
The chart uses green and red to indicate different things. Green and red. You know who has trouble with green and red? About 8% of men, that’s who. We call it color blindness, but the chart designers apparently called it “Tuesday.”
“Hey Bob, should we maybe use colors that everyone can distinguish?” “Nah, let’s go with the classic ‘Christmas confusion’ palette. Really make ‘em work for it.”
And the abbreviations! Oh, the abbreviations. E, A, G, T, N… it’s like alphabet soup designed by someone who thinks clarity is for quitters. You need a legend to read the legend. It’s got more keys than a piano store.
Let me count the ways:
First, everything’s crammed together like sardines in a can. You’ve got your CW sections, your phone sections, your data sections, all stacked up like a game of frequency Jenga. One wrong interpretation and your whole understanding comes tumbling down.
Second, the color coding. Listen, I appreciate that someone put thought into this, but when your chart requires perfect lighting conditions and 20/20 vision to interpret, you might want to reconsider your design choices. It’s like they designed it for people who don’t need the chart in the first place.
Third - and this is my favorite part - they try to show EVERY license class on the SAME chart using overlapping colors and patterns. It’s like trying to follow five different conversations at a loud party while someone shines a strobe light in your face. Sure, technically all the information is there. But so is everything else you never wanted to know, all at the same time.
You know what happens when you look at that chart? Your eyes start doing that thing where they unfocus and you see everything and nothing simultaneously. It’s like a Magic Eye poster, except instead of seeing a sailboat, you see… confusion. Just beautiful, pristine confusion.
So here’s what I did. I said, “What if - and I know this is crazy - what if we made it SIMPLE?”
Three columns. That’s it. Three beautiful, clean, organized columns:
Each band gets its own section. Not crammed in. Not overlapping. Its own section. Like a civilized document that respects your eyeballs.
And here’s the kicker - when you don’t have privileges on a band, it just says “No Privileges.” Not a blank space that makes you wonder if you’re missing something. Not a weird absence of color that could mean anything. Just two words: “No Privileges.” Clear. Direct. Honest.
You can compare. Want to see what you get when you upgrade from Tech to General? Look across the row. Right there. All of it. No decoder ring required.
LSB and USB are marked. Right on the band header. Not hidden in some legend you need a magnifying glass to read. Just BAM - there it is. “This is LSB territory.” “This is USB country.” Done.
The EXTRA-only segments? They’ve got purple badges. You can’t miss them. It’s like they’re wearing little hats that say “Extra Class VIP Section.” You know immediately what you’re working toward.
White space. Remember white space? That beautiful emptiness that lets your brain breathe? This chart has it. Your eyes can rest between sections. Revolutionary, I know.
Look, the ARRL band plan chart isn’t evil. It’s just… complicated. It’s trying to be everything to everyone, and you know what happens when you try to do that? You become nothing to anyone. You become that Swiss Army knife with 47 attachments that nobody can figure out how to use.
The three-column comparison? It’s a regular knife. A really good knife that cuts exactly what you need it to cut. No frills. No confusion. No squinting at your screen at 2 AM trying to figure out if you can legally transmit SSB on 7.175 MHz while holding a General class license.
(You can, by the way. It’s right there in the middle column, clear as day. See how easy that was?)
So here’s my suggestion: Print out the three-column version. Hang it in your shack. When your friends come over and ask, “What’s the difference between General and Extra?” you can point at the chart and say, “That. That’s the difference.” And they’ll understand. Immediately.
Because that’s what good design does - it makes things clear. Not clever. Not compact. Not colorful for the sake of being colorful. Just… clear.
And in a hobby where we’re literally using electromagnetic waves to communicate across continents, maybe - just maybe - our reference materials should be clear too.
73, and may your band plan always be readable.
W6SAL
P.S. - If you’re still using the old chart, I’m not judging you. Well, okay, I’m judging you a little. But I understand. Change is hard. Printing things is expensive. But trust me on this one - your eyeballs will thank you.
P.P.S. - To the ARRL: I love you guys. I really do. But sometimes even the best organizations need someone to look at their stuff and say, “What the hell were you thinking?” Consider this that moment. With love. But seriously, what the hell?