Everyday mistakes by firefighters on the job present considerable opportunities for growth
By Peter Roskowinski
As we all know, some of our modern standard operating procedures (SOPs) are unfortunately derived from the events that took the lives of fellow firefighters in the line of duty. Reports on these incidents are broken down with great care and attention in the hopes that members will not succumb to similar fates in the future.
Captain Chelsey “Sully” Sullenberger described the importance of such learnings, stating: “We have purchased at great cost, lessons literally bought with blood that we have to preserve as institutional knowledge and pass on to succeeding generations. We cannot have the moral failure of forgetting these lessons and have to relearn them.”
- Operational Resilience
- Fields: Comfort Is the Enemy of Growth
- Tailboard Talk: Failure is Not an Option…or Is It?
- Learning from Past Mistakes: Leadership from the Other Side of the Desk
- Bobby Halton: Blame or Learn
But what of the lessons from our everyday mistakes? These may be overlooked unnoticed, or even ignored for any number of reasons. These lessons, though not “bought with blood” in the same sense as above, should also be examined closely as they can be crucial to our professional growth and help prevent larger mistakes in the future. To this end, this article proposes that we reevaluate the way we review and take ownership of the mistakes made not only on the fireground, but every time we go out the door and while drilling in quarters.
Everyone has failed in their career. Yes, the salty Senior Man in your place probably made a bad meal at some point. The Staff Chief making high-level command decisions perhaps didn’t read out a ticket correctly the first time he was on house watch. Your Junior Senior guy? The untouchable, squared away guy destined for big things? He’s probably left his gear out or left a compartment open at some point. The point is that although they’ve all made mistakes, however mundane they may be, they strove to learn from them so their failures would not be repeated.
“Failure is something we all have to endure from time to time.”
-MATTHEW SYED.
By the very nature of the job, firefighters are prone to making mistakes. We make quick decisions in high-pressure environments under complex circumstances. Although our SOPs are straightforward, they are simply a guide. The problems we confront when we go out the door often are not as black and white. As Polish-American philosopher and engineer Alfred Korzybski said: “The map is not the territory.” The reality is that when performing our normal duties, such as forcing a door, the situation may very well necessitate a deviation from the SOP of “gap, set, force.” When faced with deviations from the norm and unique challenges, firefighters often have to improvise, adapt, and overcome on the fly and in less-than-ideal conditions. The more we run, train, drill, observe, listen, read, and talk, the more likely it is that we will make the correct decision at that moment. However, we are not infallible and anyone can be wrong in that moment, as well; these are the types of mistakes we most want to take ownership of and learn from.
Before we can take ownership of our mistakes made in the field, we must first take ownership of our own development as firefighters. Try as we might, we’ll never know it all. Everyone comes out of the fire academy with a baseline of knowledge that grows during their probationary period in the firehouse. The members with more time in the firehouse will help train the probie, but they can’t teach the new recruit everything. This isn’t out of malice, but they might just not know what they haven’t taught others yet, or they might not know themselves. These members are also not the probie’s babysitter, nor his secretary, and they won’t always be aware of the areas in which the probie isn’t proficient. Keep in mind that you’re only new for a short while, after which there will be another new probie or transfer coming in. This person will then draw the attention of the more senior members. The new recruits will inevitably look to you for guidance. The probationary period is a golden age for making and learning from mistakes never to be repeated in one’s career, but this process must not end when the probationary pumpkin patch is gone.
After the probationary period, taking ownership for one’s own development as a firefighter must begin in earnest and never cease. There’s a saying: “You don’t know what you don’t know.” However, I prefer to quote my Senior Man Charlie Ditta: “You have to KNOW what you don’t know.” This is of course impossible, but embracing this perspective leads one to consistently look inward and self-evaluate to find opportunities for growth.
Firefighters with more time on the job may be afraid to ask a question for fear of being ridiculed among their peers, but the time for clarification on our questions is now, not after making a mistake in the field. Whether in quarters, at the kitchen table, pulling someone to the side, at a company function, or via a text/phone, there is always a moment to ask, to get better. What one firefighter might consider to be a “stupid question” might spark a discussion amongst members and transform into an invaluable learning opportunity. Sometimes it’s best to swallow one’s pride and, instead of pulling aside a senior member or officer, ask the question aloud in a full kitchen. There could be someone else seeking clarity on the same issue and now you’ve not only helped yourself, but your fellow firefighter as well.
Let’s learn from mistakes during low pressure drills and talks amongst ourselves before we make them when we next go out the door. That tool that you aren’t proficient in? That’s the one to pull out next. During a drill, don’t just play the background; it’s one thing to watch someone, but another altogether to do it yourself. If you are the person running the drill, ensure that all members present have gotten hands on. Beyond that, as the person leading the drill you can create more opportunities for learning by making space for questions with as simple a prompt as: “Now is the time to ask.” Undertake the trial-and-error process with new tools and techniques at a drill building or vacant. The time to attempt a new technique for cutting a roll-down gate isn’t with smoke pushing from a store and a charged 2 ½-inch line behind you. Ask a senior member, an officer, or someone you respect.Training bulletins, firefighting periodicals, online forums, and fire department books offer near endless resources. No question should go unanswered. Making small mistakes and asking “stupid” questions while practicing our craft is acceptable. Doing these on a run with potentially life-threatening consequences is not. Through this process firefighters can, as Colonel David H. Hackworth, U.S. Army (Ret.) put it: “Exchange their bravado for some real confidence.”
“Not all mistakes are failures; they make you who you are as a firefighter.”
-LIEUTENANT MICHAEL INGRAM, LADDER 113
I had always been aware of the phrase, “Make the window a door.” It sounded pretty simple. Later on in my career at a fire, I put up a portable ladder, cleared the glass, and performed what I considered to be a textbook venter-enter-isolate-search. In short order, the fire was out. When I came back to the window to clear the sash, I saw my senior man in the courtyard who looked, to put it mildly, disappointed.
“You ever hear the saying make the window a door?” he asked.
“Is that not what I did?” I replied.
“How many doors do you know with a big bar in the middle of it?”
He was obviously right. Going over the job back at quarters, I was in the hot seat, and proceeded to make my situation worse. “Nobody ever told me to clear the sash before I went in.” Guess how this excuse went over? This in fact wasn’t true; I had been taught that lesson. The thing is that I didn’t truly understand it, and I didn’t speak up and ask for clarification when it was taught to me for fear of exposing my shortcomings. Later, I would tell my fellow junior members in a talk behind the apparatus: “I only did that because there were reports of people trapped.” Another lie. Yes, there were reports of people trapped, and I was trying to get in there as fast as possible, but that wasn’t the reason I didn’t clear the sash. I even tried to convince myself of this same lie to save my own ego. While the purpose of this article isn’t to tell fire stories, I relay this one because it illustrates some key points I wish to discuss.
The first point is not taking responsibility for my own development, which led to making this mistake in the first place. I assumed the knowledge of “making the window a door” was a part of my skill set without ever really understanding what it meant. This wasn’t the first window I’d taken. I’d been making this mistake again and again. By dumb luck, nobody—myself included—had been hurt in the process.
The second point was not wanting to admit that I’d made a mistake. I was obviously wrong, but I made excuses as to why. Not accepting fault for adequately preparing myself for my duties as a firefighter ultimately slowed my professional growth. Once I could come to accept that I had failed, I could commence with learning in which areas I was lacking, and how to improve on them.
Third, and perhaps most crucially, is the failure to communicate my mistake so that others could learn from it. Instead of making sure everyone knew where I went wrong and why I did, I fabricated a story in an attempt to save face. When someone is in the hot seat as I was, it’s not just that member who is learning a lesson. Yes, that person is learning by tough love, but all other members present are taking in the lesson as well. I did my fellow junior members who didn’t happen to be in the kitchen that day a disservice by not communicating my mistake to them. By the simple act of allowing myself to be humbled, admit failure, and what I had learned from it, another firefighter could have been saved from a similar embarrassment and a potentially dangerous situation for themselves and everyone operating with them.
“Being an alert and confident guy can keep you out of a lot of trouble.”
-DEPUTY CHIEF TIMOTHY KEENAN
Once we can honestly say that we have taken ownership of the responsibility for our own development can true progress begin. This could begin with tackling weaknesses that are not as easily overcome. These could be things such as remaining calm while responding and operating, overcoming tunnel vision, or even simply adapting to life in the firehouse. The ultimate outcome we hope to achieve is that, instead of making fundamental mistakes that can be avoided with proper training and discipline, we can transition into critiquing and learning from those mistakes.
Now obviously no one goes out the door looking to make mistakes, but it is undeniable that great learning opportunities arise from them. It is easy enough to say that we’ll admit our mistakes for the betterment of the firehouse going forward, but pride and ego complicate the situation. As author Matthew Syed writes in his book, Black Box Thinking, we are likely to put up our defenses when our professionalism is threatened and our credibility undermined in the eyes of our colleagues. As Syed notes, such a mechanism can destroy the opportunity to learn.
This presents an important question: how do we create a culture where members can be honest with themselves and their peers to drive progress job-wide?
Conducting a postincident review (formal or informal) is a common occurrence in every firehouse in the city. The informal review can take many shapes. It can be straightforward. “What did you do from the receipt of the alarm until the finish of the job?” Keep in mind in these cases we’re not looking for a fire story but rather a specific recounting of events. Otherwise, it can be more specific “Did you deviate from SOP at any point? If so, why?” Even simpler: “What went well?” and “What could have gone better?”
Building on this, perhaps we institute a top-down approach to these discussions. One idea is to have the senior member speak first and critique his own performance or opportunities for improvement. By encouraging an environment of constructive self-criticism, this could work to flatten the “hierarchy” of the firehouse and make members with less time more apt to be honest with their self evaluation, thus driving more learning. “What could you have done better?” “What was a difficult decision you made?” are good questions to begin, along with attaching a “Why?” to each.
As this discussion moves down the line towards the junior members, it’s important that senior members keep an open mind. To create the culture of honesty and learning crucial to growth, I’ll echo the words of Deputy Chief James Boylan: “Don’t expect everyone to be you.” Just because you wouldn’t have made the same mistake, doesn’t mean it’s unreasonable that someone else would. None of us share the same experiences, so instead of merely writing off the mistake as a fault of the person, try to examine the thought process of the firefighter. Think about what led that person to make the mistake in the first place and what adjustments to the tactics and attitude of the firefighter can help him transition into an indispensable member of the team.
Other times, a member may have made a “nice move” at a fire. These instances should be examined as well. Instead of just accepting he made a “nice move” or the right choice when faced with adversity, examine what his thought process was leading up to and inside of that moment. Yes, he made the right choice, but possibly not everyone else would have done the same thing, given the circumstances. What prompted him to act the way he did? What combination of experience, hard work, and talent enabled him to operate effectively when faced with a difficult task, and how can we mimic it?
These lessons are best learned as close to the incident as possible, before the inevitable “fog of war” sets in. The ideal time to examine performance is directly following an incident, however this is often impractical. We’re looking to square away the apparatus and tools, wash up, decon, change our gear, send the relocator home, get a meal going, complete a task that was interrupted when the run originally came in, or any number of things. While these are all acceptable reasons to delay a debrief, we do ourselves a disservice by not having these discussions right away, before the natural urge to “edit” events in our head sets in.
The intention of this article is merely to begin a discussion around the way in which we treat mistakes made and examine the thought process behind difficult decisions made quickly in complex,,high-pressure environments. With the amount of experience retiring from the department daily and the decline of the volume of fire duty everywhere, it’s imperative to make the most of every learning opportunity presented to us, even at the expense of our pride. With so many lessons already “bought with blood,” how can we afford not to?
Peter Roskowinski is a nine-year member of the Fire Department of New York. He is assigned to Ladder 113 but currently detailed to Rescue Company 5.
