We are often told, in a reproving tone, that we operate in our “silos” and are ignorant of much relevant stuff going on in the world outside.
The shipping industry, it is sometimes said, for example, needs to learn from the safety culture of commercial aviation, with its “no-blame” attitudes to accidents (maybe not quite so pure as they claim), and other operational procedures.
I recall an eminent shipowner suggesting that air traffic control could be usefully “marinised”, even deep sea, to reduce collisions and grounding outside areas covered by VTS. The point about learning lessons from other non-marine sources is not unreasonable, as one can point to plenty of examples where better intelligence about the wider world could have prevented accidents afloat.
Many years ago, after a tragic fire in a German shipyard , involving insulation being installed in a large reefer container ship, the inquiry revealed that the terrifying consequences of this material catching fire (huge heat, rapid flame spread and toxic gas) had been discovered years previously in the mining industry. The intelligence, however, had failed to be more widely promulgated and reached ship designers.
Do we need all this clever equipment that sadly generates a false sense of security?
It took a fire on the artificial grass laid on the top deck of a cruise ship before this hazard, well known among shoreside fire officers, registered afloat, as did the flammability of some synthetic rope.
Building regulations ashore were alert to the dangers of flammable materials used on external balconies, well before a disastrous incident aboard a cruise ship in which flames leaped around the internal fire bulkheads on the outside of a vessel under way. It is a hard way to have to learn lessons , which others found out years before.
It is probably true to say that the industry is better at transmitting safety information to a wider audience than it once was, thanks to the P&I clubs, casualty investigation systems, and regulators. But there is a lot going on elsewhere that has a relevance to the marine industry, and which ought to be registered by those who can make a difference.
The rail industry, for instance, is taking a second look at its policies on “intelligent” train systems that have reduced the functions of the driver to little more than watching for the unexpected and opening and closing doors at stations. The challenge has been to maintain the alertness of the train operator, with so little activity that they fail to register the early signs of an emergency, such as an obstruction on the track, or somebody falling off a platform as the train comes into a station.
Does this resonate with our industry, with watchkeepers so detached that they fail to notice that the ship has failed to change her course? People so dependent on automated systems, that they have insufficient to do to stay alert, even awake?
And if we follow this line of logic, do we need all this clever equipment that sadly generates a false sense of security, whatever its manufacturers may claim?
If we need human beings on hand, surely we ought to give them enough to do to keep them interested, even fulfilled, rather than having them sitting like lemons, waiting for something to go wrong and then being asleep when it does.
The same sort of arguments are being tested in the automotive industry, where serious doubts have been expressed about drivers becoming both detached from their prime safety role and ultimately de-skilled by their increasingly clever vehicles with their semi-self-driving functions. Shipping has been on this road for years.
The answer to the onboard safety question might be provided from another sector or a completely different industry.
It is also worth recalling the warnings about increasingly tech-savvy watchkeepers being so wrapped up in their screens that they fail to ever look out of their windows.
There are lessons from the roads ashore, where dire penalties attach to drivers being distracted by their telephones, but, quite illogically, practically every control function is operated by a touchscreen, taking the driver’s eyes off the road.
It is not being a Luddite to ask whether much of the equipment that is now loaded aboard ships is really necessary, and answers a problem that exists only in the mind of its designer.
It could be that the answer to the onboard safety question might be provided from another sector or a completely different industry, if only we are sufficiently alert to look beyond our own bubble.