|
Prevention better than
cure - but much harder to achieve
by Margot Cairnes
>From 1972 to 1991 75 people were
killed in coalmines in NSW, Australia. A report on these
accidents found the critical contributing factor was
human error. Usually when an accident happens we look
for what went wrong. We notice the failings in the
equipment, the materials and the procedures. We look for
and find the specific behaviors that were "wrong" or
"should" have happened and didn't. We search for answers
to help us understand the incomprehensible fact that a
preventable death has occurred. In our search for
concrete explanations, however, we often miss the more
pervasive, more subtle contributing factors. We look for
tangible answers that we can see, when the real danger
lies in the human dynamic that we overlook.
Recently a taxidriver was killed on the job in Sydney. A
seatbelt was fitted to her car but she wasn't wearing it
(taxidrivers have convinced the regulators they don't
need to take this precaution). An airbag was fitted to
her car but it was disabled and the owner decided not to
restore it to full function. A coroner's inquiry found
that if the driver had been wearing a seatbelt and if
the airbag had been functional there was a good chance
she would have survived.
Thinking about this I am prompted to ask some questions.
What kind of bravado goes on among taxidrivers (who
spend more time on the road than most people) to have
them think that they, above all others, don't need to
wear seatbelts? How were they ever able to convince the
regulators that their lives were less at risk than
anyone else's? How was the taxi owner able to convince
himself that a proven safety feature - the airbag - was
dispensable?
Workshopping these issues recently with a group of
actors I use for roleplaying in my leadership seminars,
I had one actor dare to go against the tide, to try to
convince some "fellow workers" to do what made safety
sense. The renegade actor's task was to attempt to put
human safety and human life ahead of the group culture
of "we're so good at what we do we don't have to take
normal safety precautions". The other actors (his
workmates) were briefed to stay in the role of workers
who were used to flouting the regulations and had built
up a camaraderie based on being tough, super-capable and
strong.
Observing this little roleplay was illuminating. Every
time the "safety first" actor put forward his concerns
about the taking of unnecessary risks he was ridiculed,
ignored, undermined, talked over and belittled. He had
been briefed to continue and so he did. In response a
wall of resistance was put up against him. I was
reminded of the old days when people still thought it
was smart to drink and drive. The actor who dared break
the group's "we don't have to worry about safety" rule
was told that he was weak and not a "team player". It
was implied that he lacked courage, strength and skill.
He was criticised for focusing on unimportant, little
issues, rather than seeing the big picture.
The criticisms he received were the inverse of reality.
It takes great courage to notice the little things,
register your emotional response to them and state your
concerns openly. Only a real team player would risk his
colleagues' disapproval by fighting for their safety
(perhaps their lives). It takes great skill to be the
person who leads a group to see past their normal way of
thinking and acting, so they can start embracing the
reality of their own vulnerability and in many cases the
availability of new "life saving" technologies. It takes
a big picture person to concentrate on prevention. Being
effective after the accident and hunting for the clues
are both easy compared to stopping accidents from
happening in the first place.
Copyright
ã Margot
Cairnes
Previous
Next
|
