1852: Stay Unsafe

Let’s talk a little about Health and Safety.

Health and Safety (because the two are inevitably linked together as some sort of single collective concept) is one of those aspects of the modern world that, like its distant cousin Political Correctness, is often ridiculed. And quite rightly so.

This isn’t to say that doing things safely isn’t important, of course. I would not attempt to rewire my house because I know I would probably blow it up. I would not stand on a rickety old plank above a bed of spikes because I know I would probably fall off or break it, and also I’m not a platform game hero. I would not open a gas tap in a science laboratory and then drink from it like a water fountain.

These are all things that normal people wouldn’t do. These are all things that normal people have enough common sense to not do. These are all things that normal people don’t need to be told not to do — or if, for whatever reason, they do do them once and survive, they probably don’t need to be told not to do them again. One of the ways we as humans learn things is the primitive but effective means of hurting ourselves and then realising that we really don’t want to feel that way again. We start doing this as children, and while we may do it a little less as adults — we’ve learned most of the things that hurt by the time we reach adolescence, in most cases — there’s still the occasional situation where you’ll do something unfortunate, hurt yourself and learn something from the experience, whether the injury you suffer is a stubbed toe or a broken arm. And that’s absolutely fine. It works. It’s how we’ve evolved. And it’s how we’ve survived until now.

The trouble with Health and Safety as a modern concept is that it works on a lowest common denominator basis, going by the assumption that everyone has absolutely no common sense and/or ability to learn from their mistakes whatsoever, and must therefore be warned of absolutely everything that has even the slightest risk of doing anything to them ranging from a slight bruise to ripping off all their limbs and head, leaving them as nothing but a bloody torso.

Even the most stupid people, in my experience, know how to protect themselves from incidents at both ends of this spectrum, however. Your average person knows how to walk up a set of stairs without falling over as much as they understand how they probably shouldn’t attempt to fellate a chainsaw while it’s running.

The organisation I’ve just parted ways with is obsessed with Health and Safety. And this isn’t an exaggeration. They plaster it all over their internal documentation, that safety is their number one concern. And for certain parts of the business in question, that’s probably not a bad thing, given that there are workers who deal with dangerous things on a daily basis.

Trouble is, none of those dangerous things are in the office environment, and yet the quasi-religious fervour that the Health and Safety zealots beat themselves into (carefully, of course) on a daily basis is still very much present and correct. We are talking about — and this is not an exaggeration — an organisation where you get reprimanded if you do not hold on to the handrail while walking up and down stairs; where if you’re carrying something that requires both hands, you’re expected to walk to the other end of the building and take the lift instead; where employees are encouraged to report each and every supposed safety infraction they happen to see; where you have to “risk assess” and wear a bump cap if you as much as drop a pen under your desk and go down to get it.

It’s utter nonsense for a number of reasons. Firstly, there’s the sheer amount of time it wastes. Meetings begin with a discussion of safety that is, more often than not, completely and utterly irrelevant to the main topic of the meeting — and, again, covering the sort of “common sense” things discussed above. Time is set aside for employees to down tools and work on “safety activities” to promote safety to their colleagues — and if that sounds like some sort of awful school project, believe me when I say that the eventual execution of these activities is equally excruciating, not to mention yet another waste of time.

Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, is the culture of utter distrust and paranoia this creates. Employees are encouraged to report any safety infractions they happen to see using a special dedicated system (that, naturally, takes an unnecessarily long time to work your way through) — and, yes, this includes happening to see anyone who dares to take their life into their own hands by not holding the handrail on the stairs. Aside from that, though, the constant beating over the head with “safety” issues that everyone gets on a daily basis gives across the distinct impression that absolutely no-one is trusted not to cover themselves in jam, jump into a wasp’s nest and then set themselves on fire unless they’re specifically told not to.

It’s doubtless some sort of legal issue, where the company needs to be seen to be “protecting” its employees from all the big, bad, horrible things in this world that might kill them at a moment’s notice. But, as with anything, you can take things too far. And this is taking things much, much too far. It’s patronising, insulting and a waste of everyone’s time, and yet no-one ever seems to question it. It’s quite scary in a way; it’s almost cultish behaviour.

Still, I don’t have to worry about it any more. But I do kind of pity the people who are stuck there who have never known any different. It’s an exciting and dangerous world out here; a world where we are free to let go of the handrail and see where life takes us. Sometimes we climb the stairway to strange and wonderful new places; others still we might slip and fall and come crashing down to earth. Both can be helpful, valuable and even enjoyable experiences. But if you never let go of that handrail, you’ll never know.

#oneaday, Day 298: Did You Hear The One About The [REDACTED] And The #TwitterJokeTrial?

If the name Paul Chambers doesn’t mean anything to you at the moment, then take a moment to read this summary of the day’s proceedings, courtesy of The Guardian.

The TL;DR version (God, I hate that phrase and wish it, and everyone who uses it unironically, would die in a f… would, err, live a long and happy life filled with kittens and/or puppies, whichever they preferred, really, because it’s up to them how they live their lives and I love them, whatever they decide) is this: Chambers made an (arguably) ill-advised joke on Twitter about blowing Robin Hood Airport “sky high”. It was a throwaway comment that got blown (pardon) out of all proportion and, thanks to some very, very silly people, has been treated as something roughly approaching a mid-level terrorist incident.

The conclusions of the judge today were that Chambers’ original comment was “obviously menacing” and that any “ordinary person” would “be alarmed”.

Funny, then, that Twitter itself has been full of bomb threats, incitements to violence, discussions of inflicting bodily harm on individuals, and no-one else (save Conservative councillor for Birmingham, Gareth Compton, who made some similarly ill-advised comments, got bollocked and then promptly released on bail) has been arrested for it.

The long and short of it, though, is that Chambers’ appeal was unsuccessful, meaning he is now lumbered with a mounting legal bill and fine which—bless him—Stephen Fry has offered to pay, but members of the public have been generously donating to, also. (Find out how you can help too here).

Chambers has lost his job as a result of one silly comment on Twitter that clearly wasn’t intended to be “menacing” in the slightest. What sort of incompetent terrorist hatches their plans via social media anyway? Everyone knows they still use cassettes and VHS tapes. But the fact stands; this poor chap has had his life pretty much destroyed as a result of an almost total abandonment of Common Sense.

I like to think of myself as a fairly ordinary person, and I certainly wasn’t menaced by Chambers’ tweet. I wasn’t even aware of it until this whole legal fiasco started—but I follow plenty of people who make comments which could, according to Judge Jacqueline Davies, be interpreted as “menacing” and “alarming”. Are they all going to be arrested now? Or was Chambers set up to be made an example of? Certainly if the authorities are intending prosecuting everyone who has made mock “bomb threats” on Twitter today, they’d better get started now, because it’s going to take a good long while, and lots of courthouse space to get it all sorted.

Or perhaps they could, you know, focus on some actual crimes. Perhaps they could take some steps to deal with kids carrying knives, youth gangs, burglaries, assaults, murders, even fucking traffic incidents carry more weight than a ridiculous comment on Twitter.

Or even—here’s a thought—they could invest some resources into tracking down actual, genuine terrorists and foiling their plots before they happen. But perhaps that’s too difficult, and it’s much easier to make a scapegoat of a poor fella who was simply excited to spend time with the love of his life, and was frustrated by the fact that the airport’s closure was making that look more and more unlikely.

So, moral of the story, kids? Be careful what you say. Otherwise Big Broth—

[THE REMAINDER OF THIS BLOG POST HAS BEEN REDACTED BY ORDER OF THE GOVERNMENT OF THE UNITED KINGDOM OF GREAT BRITAIN AND NORTHERN IRELAND. PLEASE DIRECT ALL ENQUIRIES TO [email protected]]

#oneaday, Day 239: Brain Fart

The term “brain fart” is one of those things that always makes me giggle. This is because I am English, and thus anything that involves the word “fart” is automatically hilarious. You can imagine the chaos that ensued in German lessons at school when we discovered that the German word for “father” is pronounced “farter”.

But I digress, before I’ve even started.

Brain farts are conclusive evidence that the human race still has scope to evolve further. There is no rational explanation for why we should experience such ridiculous lapses in judgement, memory and perception. But we do. Every single day. And every time it happens, we feel utterly ridiculous and very glad that, usually, no-one was around to see our stupid action.

The three examples above are all things that everyone has surely done, and probably recently. But there are hundreds of examples throughout everyday life. You don’t even have to be up and about and doing anything.

Take writing, for example. One of my favourite brain farts that occurs whilst writing is the inadvertent creation of portmanteau words. This happens because my brain writes faster than my fingers can type. My fingers can type pretty fast (85wpm, fact fans) but my brain is faster by virtue of the fact that it doesn’t have to actually move or indeed do anything except think. As such, I occasionally find myself thinking of the next word as I’m typing the previous one, and end up typing the end of the next word onto the current one. Let’s say that for whatever reason I am typing the words “dribbling mandibles”. I’ll start typing “dribbling” and maybe get as far as “drib” before my brain has already jumped ahead to the end of “mandibles”, meaning I’ll end up typing “dribdibles”, which clearly isn’t a word but should be. Fortunately I usually catch these when they happen. I’m actually quite tempted now to write a whole post where I leave all of them in and see if the text is still understandable.

Of course, being conscious of said brain farts renders them immediately impossible to recreate, so I’d just end up producing my own peculiar language and retreating into my own little world and having another kind of brain fart like I am right now where I get distracted halfway through a sentence and forget exactly what the point I was trying to make was, or indeed how to finish said sentence which means it runs on forever and ever until I finally decide to stop it decisively. Like that.

The worst kind of brain fart, though, is the one where you forget someone’s name. Usually immediately after they’ve told you it. Inevitably, you will be thrust into some sort of situation where you are required to introduce the people you are with to someone else whose name you may or may not remember, and you’ll introduce one of them in the hope that they’ll pick up on your imperceptible signals (so imperceptible that you’re not actually doing anything other than thinking “PLEASE TELL THEM YOUR NAME” really hard) and take you out of this hideous situation. But it never goes that way. Fortunately, most people are polite enough to fill an awkward silence and not point out that you’ve clearly forgotten some information that was put into your brain not two minutes previously.

So brain farts are fun. And rubbish. That is all.

What, you wanted something more profound? I’ve had a hard week.