Let’s talk about a word that we don’t say often enough but see all too clearly: complacency.
It’s defined as “A feeling of quiet pleasure or security, often unaware of potential danger or defect; self-satisfaction or smug satisfaction with an existing condition.”
This virus infects the fire service silently and persistently.
When it is left unchecked, it transforms motivated firefighters into recliner riders. That said, it doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a slow erosion, via everyday decisions:
- “Ah, we’ve been on this alarm three times already. You don’t need to wear an air pack.”
- Not checking your SCBA.
- Not wearing your gear properly.
- Half-hearted participation during training.
- Walking to the rig instead of running.
However, let’s consider another, more deadly classification of complacency—the kind that increases a firefighter’s cancer risk:
Every single one of these choices increases your long-term risk of cancer. When we normalize these behaviors, we aren’t just lazy; we’re shortening our career and potentially our life.
Cancer is a leading cause of firefighter deaths. We know the risks. We know the science. However, we let complacency win. That’s the very definition of normalization of deviance, which is a concept that Diane Vaughan coined. It describes how a deviation from safety standards, repeated enough times, becomes accepted practice.
We wouldn’t ignore a mayday call or stand around while a room flashes over. Why would we ignore the slow, invisible danger that claims so many of our own?
Slow, silent erosion that can kill
Your choices—how you clean, store and wear your gear—don’t just affect you. They affect your crew, your family and the culture of your firehouse.
Senior firefighters, when you cut corners, you aren’t just risking your life. You’re teaching the younger generation that cutting corners is OK. You’re spreading the virus of complacency.
Ask yourself:
- Would you be more careful with your gear if your spouse or child could see the contamination on it?
- Would you shower more quickly if you knew that the toxins were measurable in your bloodstream after every fire?
- Would you stop wearing gear in the kitchen if you knew the cancer risk increased by exposure inside of the firehouse?
- What would your spouse, children or loved ones want you to do?
Who owns this issue?
From the newest probie to the most-seasoned chief, from the company officer to the department executive, if we allow these dangerous habits to persist—or, worse, model them—then we’re complicit in the outcome. We now allow the normalization of deviance.
We not only normalize the actions, but we normalize them into our culture.
What is the remedy?
Do what’s right every single time, as opposed to doing what’s easy.
Wear your gear correctly. Clean your gear. Shower after a fire. Keep carcinogens out of the bunkroom. Train hard. Check your tools. Eat healthfully and work out. Never walk past something that isn’t right.
Finally, a disclaimer: I, Joe Scheumann, am guilty of being complacent in my career. I choose to fight it and do better. I am not without guilt as I typed this article. I am not perfect, and I hope that all of you will push me to be better, just as I hope that you’re open to me doing the same for you.
