Many small-company safety reps have a hard time simply getting their workers to listen. And companies with low incident rates are the worst, because workers don't see a "need" for lectures, rules, PPE, etc. For them, a safety meeting is nap time. This was my challenge. Here's something I used at a safety meeting to get past that hurtle, so the real change in culture could start.

Staging a Fatality

I am the "Safety Guy" for a manufacturing company with a wonderful (and puzzling) record of no OSHA recordable injuries for three years. It's a small company of about 75 people. The floor crew has a penchant for hardheadedness and complacency brought about by the long track record of no serious accidents. They didn't have a safety program before I came, and the unspoken prevailing outlook was: "We didn't need all this before. Why do we need one now?"

Needless to say, I had a hard time breaking through the self-satisfaction. The law of averages was going to catch up to them sooner or later. I felt like I had to do something before the inevitable serious injury or death occurred.

One day, while I was witnessing yet another death-defying act by an experienced employee, I thought to myself: "This attitude won't stop until someone gets killed!" Then I had an idea. If a fatality was needed to wake them up, I would go ahead and stage one. My strategy was to "kill" someone in simulation before the real thing struck.

Setting the Scene

At the next weekly safety meeting, I picked out Joe, one of the workers. I deliberately chose Joe because he's one of the more well-liked and friendly persons. So his "death" would cause genuine sorrow.

I told Joe to lie down on the break room floor and used a large piece of white chalk to draw one of those infamous police "chalk line" around him. It was fun for the guys. Later, though, the laughter died as the seriousness of the situation began to set in. I directed Joe to move to the very back of the room, so he was no longer in plain view. Then I spoke exactly as if Joe had just died.

Announcing Joe's Death

I restarted the meeting as if I had just called everyone together. I acted as if I was seriously shaken and upset. I informed the crew that Joe had just fallen 40 feet from a scaffold in the yard. In a slightly shaking voice (I'm a decent actor), I told them that he was wearing no fall protection and no hardhat. I told them the ambulance had just left the building, but that Joe was not expected to make it.

I then fast-forwarded the clock and read aloud the detailed "accident report," which I'd pre-written. (You can download my notes and news articles from the SafetyXChange Tools section.) The accident report ended with "Joe did not die at the scene, but held on for two weeks before succumbing to internal injuries. He never regained consciousness."

The Effects of Joe's Death

I walked the crew through the steps of what would happen next. I did this in great detail and ensured realism. I talked about coming events like Joe's family going bankrupt from medical bills not covered by workers' comp; the foreclosure and subsequent loss of his family's home; the repossession of the family car. This was followed by OSHA investigations, fines, civil suits by Joe's family against the company, the closure of the shop (bankruptcy brought on by the canceling of several large contracts and the inability to get others due to our "new" safety record. civil suits and OSHA fines, etc. etc.) I touched on two of Joe's workplace friends who began to suffer the effects of depression. One friend, unable to cope with his new job, quit and moved away. Another friend began drinking heavily and eventually lost his job due to alcoholism.

My talk went on to a realistic-looking "Obituary" that I had written, detailing the family he had left behind - mother, father, sisters, brothers, wife and young children. I passed copies of these out, as if they were newspaper clippings. (A sample "Obituary" is also in my notes in the SafetyXChange Tools section.)

Hitting Home

By this time, half the crowd was simply staring at the chalk outline. I could tell they were thinking hard. The circumstances were right out of their work environment, and I was making them face it without much need for imagination.

I finished by going around the room and looking people in the eye individually. I told them in a seriously hushed tone that Joe was dead. Now it was up to someone in the company to drive out to Joe's house and inform his expectant wife and his two children.

I asked several of them individually (I picked the hard-shell guys): "Will you do that for us? Will you tell her for us that we're sorry? Your husband's dead? You could tell her that we know we've always done things we shouldn't, but - [here I managed to make my voice crack] - today was just a bad day."

When the meeting broke up, everyone was quiet. A week later, the chalk line was still on the break room floor, a silent reminder.

Conclusion

It may not have been a cheery and upbeat safety meeting, but it was unusual. And it really got their attention when other methods failed. I felt the attitudes shift a little, and now telling this group of workers to wear PPE and think safety isn't nearly so hard. I think I may even kill someone else next month.

Editor's Note: And now here's a little humor to lighten the mood after Mr. White's somber story.

LAUGHTER AT WORK

Mis-Lead

A truck driver who had been delivering radioactive waste for the local reactor begins to feel sick after a few years on the job. He decides to seek compensation for his ailment. Upon his arrival at the workers' compensation department, he is interviewed by an assessor.

Assessor: I see you work with radioactive materials and wish to claim compensation?

Trucker: Yeah, I feel really sick.

Assessor: Okay. Does your employer take measures to protect you from radiation poisoning?

Trucker: Yeah, he gives me a lead suit to wear on the job.

Assessor: What about the cabin in which you drive?

Trucker: Oh yeah. That's lead-lined, all lead-lined.

Assessor: What about the waste itself? Where is that kept?

Trucker: Oh, the stuff is held in a lead container, all lead.

Assessor: Let's see if I've got this straight. You wear a lead suit, sit in a lead-lined cabin and the radioactive waste is kept in a lead container.

Trucker: Yeah, that's right. All lead.

Assessor: Then I can't see how you could claim against him for radiation poisoning.

Trucker: I'm not. I'm claiming for lead poisoning.

Submitted by
James McIlwain
Canadian Pacific Railway

Got a joke or safety blooper you'd like to share? Send them to catherinej@bongarde.com

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