I think about this a lot, specifically because there was about 2 seconds where my brain thought, "I'm not in charge here. I just met everyone. Do I really speak up? Maybe I'm missing something about all of this." After many replays of this scenario over the years, I decided that I would rather embarrass myself horribly than hesitate next time.
Has anything like this happened to you? How did you feel? What did you learn?
"You can't tell me what to do!"
That was a powerful lesson on the American view of personal liberty.
At a big sailing regatta for children (about 100 boats), I saw kids climbing onto a coach boat from the rear with the engine running (in neutral). Feet next to the propeller, even using the prop shaft housing as a foothold. I went over and quietly asked the coach boat driver to turn the engine off. She did, but with the most dismissive eye roll I've ever seen, and some comment about this is how they always do it.
Unlike the Burning Man guy, who I guess had a point that he was free to injure himself if he wanted to, perhaps I should have taken the boat situation to a higher authority. Dumb stuff is happening on boats constantly, but the potential to grievously harm children who wouldn't see it coming makes things different.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tenerife_airport_disaster
and is thoroughly attributed to people "not in charge" being deferential to those who were. See also
But you were. The real leader is rarely the officially designated and credentialed individual, but the one prepared to step up and assume command.
I never find it gets tedious being the "adult" in the room, but sometimes it does wear on me that so little organic leadership arises in these situations. I have to beast people into taking a lead.
People are afraid.
Rick Roderick said it best; "People aren't afraid of death any longer. They're afraid of being seen wearing the wrong trainers. Social media did this to us.
Being unpopular = social death, and the average inhabitant of the idiocracy fears that more than seeing children getting their arms ripped off by 300W motors than speaking up. It's sad.
The skipper (of the yacht) was in his first season racing. We crossed the finish line and gybed out the way of the other finishers. He chose a poor moment to relax and the mainsail took over. There was no way he was going to work out that he needed to stop fighting to make it turn back the way we were supposed to be going and that the only way out was to encourage the boat to turn the wrong way "more", so I did it instead. In the end it was really, really close.
I'm not sure there was much thought involved. It was certainly very impolite of me to do it, but everyone concerned was very happy to not hear the crunch noise made when a yacht cuts another boat in half. We never really talked about it, but I've heard him reference it once or twice since so my vague fear that I made the whole thing up is unfounded.
I really hope to not have to do it again, but I guess it's good knowing there's a part of me that does this kinda shit before I have time to think about it.
I've worked in two safety-critical industries (aircraft flight operations, and spacecraft engineering and operations). Everyone is explicitly encouraged to raise any safety concern at any time, and no one is punished for being wrong. It is better to be late than dead.
This is a required element of a robust safety culture. If you ever find yourself in a situation where this is not the case, you are in a poisoned culture that will eventually hurt or kill someone, and you should do what you can to change it and/or leave.
These places breed a culture of "safety is everyone's responsibility." When one mistake can kill everyone in the facility, I'd rather be wrong and cause a delay, than to be right but second guess, and have a lot of deaths, possibly including my own on my head.
You won't likely every regret taking an action that could save lives, so if you are in this situation do it, and keep doing it.
One of my juniors then came over and clarified that the guy was his brother, so that was fine, but I rather prefer having that awkward experience than the unpleasant alternative.
Many times. Just because there is a biological adult in the room does not mean there is a responsible adult in the room. If something bad is happening anyone may intervene. People will push back or insinuate you did something wrong because they are embarrassed. Ignore all of that and focus on ensuring a process is put in place to mitigate future mishaps.
One should try to be tactful and pull the leader aside unless there is imminent danger. I would be more concerned if our society reaches a point where nobody is willing to step in.
One time, someone was standing just outside the offset area, floor was also yellow-black taped, the test voltage meter started to rise rapidly and I yelled "CLEAR, HOT", that person took a half a step away and watched an explosive fireball go right past where he once stood.
so, yeah. It wasn't my job but it remains a collective safety effort, whether you're a safety officer or not.
I have this underlying, background process that is continuously running in my mind that is essentially, “Please don’t let it be my fault.”
And so that thought has guided me while driving, in daily living, and in one particular instance that reminded me of your experience (because I was not in charge of safety).
I was a patron at a wave pool in the heat of the summer. The waves were churning, and the water was packed with people.
I am hyper vigilant by internal design, and I noticed this young girl starting to drown.
If you have not seen this before, it is nothing like you would imagine; there is no wild flailing of the arms, or urgent calls for help. It is an almost surreal, quiet experience.
I made my way to her in what seemed like a slow motion moment blended into a faster-than-life response, and scooped her up in my arms as if she were my own child.
I remember that she was stunned as I raised her from the water, with somniferous, glassy eyes before she inhaled.
I am welling up just thinking about it. It was an intense experience that I will never forget.