Mitigated Speech and the Fire Officer: Understanding Subordinates

By CHANDLER MOORE

Communication—from marriage to friendship and certainly to the firehouse, we are all aware of how important good communication is. However, as with so many aspects of our field, familiarity can breed complacency, particularly as it relates to study and contemplation. Most of us who pursue knowledge are pursuing it within the sphere of what we perceive to be either unfamiliar or uncomfortable.

With so much to learn, why spend time on subjects that present us with no felt need? Even if we recognize a subject’s importance, we may overestimate our level of mastery of that subject if we are using it daily. Familiarity creates comfort, but it does not imply competence. With this reminder, I want us not only to recognize the importance of communication but to understand that few of us have approached a true level of mastery for such a complex subject; therefore, we all have much to learn.

At first glance, the technical study of linguistics can seem very far removed from the practical side of a company officer’s daily demands. This article will hopefully demonstrate that a company officer who has a better understanding of how humans communicate and, particularly, how subordinates communicate to those in authority will become a better leader who is more in tune with his crew’s thoughts and needs. And what officer, what crew, doesn’t want that? A knowledge of how language works and why our crews speak the way they do will help firehouse leaders better protect and lead their crews. It will also improve the effectiveness of judgments and decisions made by officers in the firehouse, on the training grounds, and on scene.

Scenarios to Consider

Scenario 1. You are the company officer at an informal rehab. Your crew has just completed an intense hose evolution. Things went okay, but you felt that several areas could be refined. You’ve already debriefed your crew, instructed them to grab a few waters, and told them to get ready to perform the drill again. Your intention is to give it another minute or two and then get started. Just then, almost like a passing comment but certainly made to you, a crew member and three-year firefighter you know well says, “It’s really humid out today, Cap.” This firefighter is solid. You’ve requested to your battalion chief that he be the primary floater into your station. Typically, he’s a “gung-ho door kicker,” and weather conditions are usually the last thing on his mind.

Scenario 2. Your truck company consists of you (a captain), your 10-year driver-engineer, and a probationary firefighter. Your truck has just been assigned to vertical ventilation. Your department rarely gets on the roof, but this is a rapidly evolving working fire, and that’s the task you’ve been assigned. The battalion chief orders you to go vertical just as your driver pulls the air brake. You’ve now instructed your firefighter to throw a ladder on the C/D corner as a secondary means of egress while you work on setting one up on the A/B corner. Your driver must grab the saw and tools and meet you on the A/B corner. The tempo of the fireground is full throttle. You have your ladder thrown, and you’re masked up.

As both your crew members approach you, they begin masking up without being told, but they are also moving slower than the situation dictates. As they mask up, you hear the probie say (almost to himself), “I’ve never vented a roof before.” You ignore the comment, wishing the new guy would keep his unnecessary thoughts to himself, and you say, “Guys, let’s get going, masks on!” As you warm up the saw, your driver, now masked up and ready to go, says to you, “Hey Cap, that roof look alright to you?” You glance up; you’d done it already, but you give it a quick second look. There is some smoke across the entirety of the A side, but it looks the same, so you simply say, “Yep, looks good, let’s go.”

The Technical Language

Keep thinking about these scenarios, with special attention to the verbal communication, particularly the three statements made by your various crew members. Before we go any further, I’ll need to start with a few technical terms about language. Modern, pragmatic linguistics studies have recognized that there are three different aspects of verbal communication for each utterance of human speech. Hebrew linguist C. John Collins describes the three aspects as follows:

Locution. The actual form of the words spoken.
Illocution. The intended effect of those words (on beliefs, actions, attitudes).
Perlocution. The actual effect of the words.1

These technical terms are helpful in giving us the right categories with which to process communication, and they are easy to demonstrate. Consider this common question given to someone who is wearing a watch: “Do you know what time it is?” The actual words used in this question and their arrangement make up the locution, and we often think of these as the literal words spoken. These words, along with their order, are the locution. It’s simple enough, but stop and think about what has literally been said.

If taken literally, the form of the question places the responding individual in a “yes or no” type of situation. However, does someone who asks this question really want an answer of yes or no? Typically, the context in which this question is posed demonstrates that the asker is seeking a response other than a simple yes or no and will consider a yes or no response as a “smart-mouth” answer, not an actual one. When this question is asked, what is actually desired is the actual time: “It is 0618.” It is short, sweet, and universally understood.

Context matters. For instance, consider the same words (locution) in another setting. A husband gently asking, “Do you know what time it is?” to his wife before they leave for a dinner date may be desiring the response of, “I know, I am just about finished getting ready. We won’t be late.” Either way, the point of the question was not to get a yes or no, despite the form of the question.

These desired responses (the intended effect) are the illocution; they get at the meaning of the words that are at the heart of what the communicator is attempting to achieve. Interpreting such questions literally and giving a simple yes or no answer fails to understand how communication works. It is either a bad-faith (i.e., uncooperative) reading of the question or a failure to communicate on the receiver’s end, not the senders (i.e., it is an inability to comprehend what should be understood by a reasonable person).

The answer or response that is given, no matter if it is “0618” or “yes,” is the perlocution. Even in our husband-and-wife scenario, a nonverbal response that simply results in an increased speed of getting ready would be a form of cooperative and successful perlocution. Essentially, all this helps us to see that what is said is not necessarily the same thing as what is meant and that what we do in response to what was said is not necessarily what was desired. Failure to understand these fundamental communication principles will result in an increased number of failed acts of communication. Failure here means that the speaker has not achieved a successful result in his communicative action with the receiver, no matter who is at fault. All of this will be vital in helping to see just what is going on with the communication in the above scenarios.2

Communication and the Badge

Next, let’s discuss one more item of linguistics. In one chapter of his bestseller Outliers, psychologist Malcolm Gladwell discusses “The Ethnic Theory of Plane Crashes.” Although skillfully navigating a potential “political correctness disaster,” he reflects on a series of plane crashes and some of the less-recognizable factors that contributed to them.

One such factor was the presence of “mitigated speech.” This form of speech can be used for a variety of reasons, but most relevant to the company officer is that it is often used if a person is embarrassed, uncertain, uncomfortable, or under authority. Gladwell describes mitigated speech as, “Any attempt to downplay or sugarcoat the meaning of what is being said.”3 Essentially, mitigated speech is speech that intentionally holds back its true meaning by softening what is said.

If we remember the terms above, the locution aspect of language is intentionally altered or restructured. This results in the illocution becoming more allusive. Thus, the perlocution is more likely to result in a failure of the communicative act. In other words, what is meant is willfully indirect. Therefore, what is received is likely to be misinterpreted or under-received. If we think this is a bit abstract for us firefighters, remember, these communication difficulties contributed to bringing down airplanes. Is it difficult to imagine the vast array of similar consequences that could occur within our field if they are not recognized?

How does mitigated speech crash a plane? Gladwell provides several examples, but I will focus on the 1982 Air Florida crash, which killed 78 people. The primary cause of the plane crash was an accumulation of ice buildup on the plane’s wings, a fatal fact that the plane’s first officer was aware of and concerned about. In fact, the first officer attempted to communicate with the plane’s captain that the ice was a serious hazard four times before takeoff. Four times, the act of communication failed to produce the desired effect.

Listen to the mitigated speech that the first officer uses. He’s very concerned about the situation and about deferring to or respecting authority. Therefore, he chooses to soften his speech each time. His final attempt is clearly the most direct but, even then, it is still far from overt. Fatally, it still fails to produce its desired effect. Following are the four statements in their progressive order:

“Look how the ice is just hanging on … back, back there, see that?”
“See all those icicles on the back there and everything?”
“Boy, this is a, this is a losing battle here on trying to de-ice those things, it [gives] you a false feeling of security, that’s all that does.”
“Let’s check those [wing] tops again, since we’ve been sitting here awhile.”

The captain ultimately takes no action to reduce the threat of ice buildup and responds with, “I think we’re good to go here in a minute.”

Once the plane lifts off, the first officer and the captain (Larry) exchange one final and tragic communicative act, one that is finally free of any mitigated speech, only it is too late:

“Larry, we’re going down, Larry.”
“I know.”4

Thirty seconds after taking off, the plane crashed into a bridge over the Potomac River, killing 78 because of a failure to take communication seriously. Make no mistake, the failure was two-sided; the first officer failed to communicate directly with his superior. The captain failed not only to recognize the hazard that his subordinate was aware of but also to understand the urgency of the true message that was hidden within the speech of his first officer. Seventy-nine lives in their hands, including their own, and the use of mitigated speech, along with a failure to recognize it, resulted in 78 being cut short, including their own.5

Are We Hearing Them?

When we consider our tough firefighter who mentions the weather, his actual words spoken (his locution) are, “It’s really humid out today, Cap.” Now, after everything we have discussed so far, and considering the type of firefighter he is, do we really think that his literal words are all that he is trying to communicate? Is his only desire in speaking (his illocution) to mention the humidity to you? Does he just want you to respond (your perlocution) with a simple, “Yep, sure is”? Of course not. Within this context, we can easily tell that what he means is something like, “Hey, Cap, that was a tough drill, even for me. It’s hot. I’m hot. If we run this drill again, I’ll need some more time in rehab before we start.” What’s keeping him from just saying that? For one, he’s a newer guy who doesn’t want to look weak; he cares about his tough guy reputation, and he will be embarrassed if he says he needs more time in rehab.

Also, he respects his captain, both his authority and his mentorship. He doesn’t want to tell his captain what to do. If push comes to shove, he’ll just do the drill again, even if heat stroke is not an unrealistic possibility. Of course, he should speak clearly. There are ways to do so that are still respectful, but he is human, and he is a three-year employee, and every company officer needs to understand that he’s going to speak like one.

As an officer, it is essential to understand this mitigated way of communicating. Most of our subordinates will speak to us in a mitigated fashion; it comes with the badge. The only question is, will we recognize it? Can individuals be trained and mentored to speak in a more direct fashion? Yes, but until we understand this aspect of communication, it will never be addressed.

Similarly, consider the second scenario: Your crew has been assigned to vertical ventilation. Recall that your probie firefighter has mentioned that he’s never vented a roof, and your trusted 10-year driver, in the heat of the moment, asked you if the roof looked okay to you. Your probie’s comment is not all that surprising; it’s difficult to read into it that much. However, given the context, your driver’s comment should capture your attention. If nothing else, in line with a philosophy of crew resource management,6 the comment warrants a very quick question in response to it before giving the final order to get on the roof.

Think about it: You trust this guy; he knows the autocratic nature of leadership on a fireground. The fact that he is even taking the time to ask you a question should be a major verbal signal that something is not right. Sure, you are in a difficult setting to pay attention to such verbal clues, but the more practiced you are in looking for such communication when not in a high-stress situation, the more prepared you will be to catch these aspects of speech when time is of the essence.

Your driver’s exact words were, “Hey, Cap, that roof look alright to you?” If you removed all mitigation from his speech, what your driver is really saying is, “Captain, we should not go on that roof. It’s starting to sag a bit, and it is not safe. Do not send us up there.” However, this is a safety issue, so why wouldn’t your driver be more direct? The answer is doubt. Never underestimate the power of doubt, especially when you are the one wearing the badge. You trust your driver, but your driver trusts you. Surely, if that roof was really sagging, you’d notice it, right? If he was completely convinced, he’d be more direct, but it is a stressful environment. Although he is confident, he is not 100% sure. Uncertainty of conviction will lead to uncertainty in communication.

An officer who is “on his game” might respond with a simple return statement such as, “You seeing something?” Note that you’ve responded to his question with a question. If you started your response with, “The roof looks good,” or a “Yes,” you have now forced him to directly challenge your opinion, which will either result in a more mitigated response or complete submission. If you want to know what he truly thinks, don’t tell him what you’re thinking. You don’t have all day, but taking just a few seconds to discover what those trusted second set of eyes are actually seeing is worth it. Keep it concise. Keep it to the point. However, if possible, do not lead.

Six Levels of Mitigated Speech

By now, I’ve demonstrated just how practical the higher-level concepts of linguistics can be when we flesh them out for the fireground. Once recognized, the communication trends discussed here will be seen everywhere—at the dinner table, while giving a routing, over the radio, during evaluations, within formal and informal settings, from our subordinates, and all the way to our higher-ups—so we are not immune from giving our own mitigated speech. As officers, we must understand that the nature of our position will influence the communication we receive. We must understand that what is said is often intentionally obscured, and what is desired within the communicative act is layered behind the many aspects of the act itself. More often than not, this linguistic chain of events will take the form of mitigated speech. Therefore, it is worth mentioning the six distinct levels of mitigated speech recognized by Gladwell.7 Following each category will be an example from our vertical ventilation scenario as well as a brief explanation. Remember, from the driver’s perspective, the roof is not safe for operations. Although a little doubt exists, he still has a strong internal opinion. We will start from the least mitigated speech and continue to the most mitigated.

Command. “I am not going on the roof. It’s sagging and comprised. Horizontal ventilation is the only option.” This is direct speech with no mitigation. What is desired and thought is exactly what is said.
Crew obligation statement. “I don’t think we should be getting on that roof; it looks like it might be too far gone.” Note that this transitions from a hard individual statement to a group consideration using “we.” Furthermore, his speech is just beginning to hide and soften what he really thinks.
Crew suggestion. “I think we should consider options other than getting on the roof. Horizontal ventilation should still be able to get the job done.” Again, we have the use of “we” and the speaker is no longer explicitly stating the problem.
Query. “Hey, Cap, that roof look alright to you?” Here, we have what the driver actually said in our scenario. Note just how mitigated this speech is from what he really thinks in the “Command” category. Also note how this question heightens the captain’s authority by no longer using a group “we” but a submissive “you.”
Preference. “I think horizontal ventilation could be a better option here.” This is less submissive than the immediate category above but vague and indirect. Importantly, no concern is actually raised about the integrity of the roof.
Hint. “Vertical ventilation is risky.” Finally, this is a very high level of mitigation and is more in line with what your probie said. Nothing is said about the roof, and the generality in which the statement is made does not even make it specific to the incident.

These categories of mitigated speech demonstrate just how important it is for company officers to be aware of how their crews communicate. Of course, no two scenarios are exactly alike; a variety of factors come into play. Individual personalities, generational tendencies, incident specifics, levels of experience, the officer’s leadership style, the amount of time spent working together, and many more factors will influence how much mitigation is used. Start paying attention and you will see just how often this occurs daily. He’ll say, “Cap, you want us to turn right?” instead of what he is thinking, which is, “Come on, Cap, we obviously need to go left,” or, “Hey, Cap, do you have a minute to talk? If not, it’s really no big deal” when he is really thinking, “Cap, I’ve been having some major problems dealing with that pediatric trauma call a few shifts back. I haven’t been sleeping well. I’m not sure what to do. I desperately need to talk to you.” The stakes are not always going to be the same, but the fact remains—mitigated speech will be used by our personnel. The question is, are we going to understand their language?

Our crews trust us not only to lead them but to understand them. That level of trust is contingent on our level of understanding. That ability to understand is directly correlated to our ability to interpret their communication. If we continually fail to understand what they are trying to say to us, if we fail to interpret what they mean despite their choice of words, we fail them. In doing so, we lose their trust. Let’s take ownership of our crew’s communication. Even if they could speak more directly to us, it is our responsibility to do everything within our power to bridge that gap of understanding. We sought the badge, now let’s seek to understand what is actually being said to those wearing it.

Endnotes

1. Collins JC. Reading Genesis Well: Navigating History, Poetry, Science, and Truth in Genesis 1-11, (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2018), 51; for further analysis see Ibid. 51-61.

2. Collins JC. Reading Genesis Well, 51-52.

3. Gladwell M. Outliers: The Story of Success, (New York, NY: Back Bay Books, 2011), 194.

4. All pilot communication quotes from Ibid. 196.

5. “Plane crashes into Potomac River,” History, November 13, 2009, https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/plane-crashes-into-potomac.

6. Smith J. Strategic & Tactical Considerations on the Fireground, Ed. 4, (New York, NY: Pearson 2016), 112-13.

7. Gladwell M. Outliers, 195.

CHANDLER MOORE is a 12-year veteran of and a captain with Martin County (FL) Fire Rescue (MCR). He previously served as an MCFR training captain. Moore is a state-certified pump operator, live fire training instructor, fire officer I, and instructor II. Moore has an associate degree in fire science from Indian River State College and is currently enrolled at the University of Florida, pursuing a bachelor’s in emergency management.