Bravery

When Captain Francesco Schettino was accused of abandoning the luxury liner Costa Concordia he protested that he did not willingly leave his doomed ship. He had simply fallen into a lifeboat.

Prosecutors disagreed, arguing that he intentionally abandoned the ship and his
passengers to save his own life. Unfortunately for the captain the court preferred the prosecution’s version and he now faces 16 years in jail.

Regardless of what really happened, how we respond to these incidents flushes out
our beliefs about people.

There’s a popular model used in safety–the James Reason Human Error Model–which
explains why this distinction between intentional and unintentional behaviour is

critical. An unintended behaviour, like accidentally–and conveniently–falling into
a lifeboat, suggests there was no error in judgment or motivation. When judgment
and motivation are intertwined in the action, it’s easier to blame people.

In contrast, actions that are driven by motivation to deviate from prescribed rules and laws, are considered ‘violations’ or, as one of my colleagues once called them, ‘decision errors’.

What’s interesting is that every single human makes errors and mistakes, and
commits violations.  Most people accept this notion as being human as much as
breathing and sleeping. Yet, when one of these errors leads to a terrible outcome we are quick to find any reason to blame and punish.

In a workshop discussing the James Reason model I watched on with interest as one half of the room argued that an honest error should never result in dismissal. ‘If it was unintentional, how can you blame them?’ Those on the other side of the room were swayed by an emotive example: ‘But if your child lost their life due to someone’s honest mistake, you’d want them to pay!’

What seems to underpin these scenarios is that we blend the actions with the
consequences. If you run a red light and are caught you get a fine. If the same action results in a fatal crash it is immediately escalated to the courts and jail becomes more than a possibility. The consequence changes our perception of the same action.

Perhaps Captain Schettino was both incompetent and cowardly. Imagine if we
accepted his actions as human and tried to understand them? It’s not satisfying. It’s
not exactly ‘justice’. But it might help further our understanding about humans to prevent the same, terrible scenarios in future.