On 10th March 2025, the Solong collided with Stena Immaculate in the North Sea area. In just over a day, the captain was arrested and within less than a week, Captain Vladimir Motin was publicly named and charged with gross negligence for manslaughter over the death of a crew member.
Investigations (legal, criminal or statutory) normally take time. It’s a lengthy process of curating and weaving the facts into a narrative to determine what went wrong. As members of public, we are asked to exercise patience until the investigation is concluded. But in less than one week, it is deeply concerning to observe the discourse of the accident in the press and the trajectory of the investigation even for those who do not belong to the industry.
See here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lhhRS6EtauM
An appeal to the reader
Many within the risk and safety industry believe in the objective nature of truth. If you think of the process of investigation as a rational exercise and if you are not prepared to question your worldview, I would not suggest that you read this article. But if you are prepared to challenge your worldview I welcome you to my world.
I am a former master mariner, an anthropologist, a social psychologist and the author of the book, Are We Learning from Accidents? But I am also aware that I know very little. My views therefore are subjective, biased and incomplete. Ask questions as you read this article so that we can learn from each other. But not binary or leading questions. Instead, ask open questions with an open mind and heart.
What is my point?
To begin with, it is misleading to think that accident investigations, whether statutory, legal or otherwise, are designed to serve justice, prevent recurrence or establish the truth. Even those who have been in this industry for a long time understand that these are all hollow maxims.
My aim in this short piece is to offer those who are critical about the accident investigation process, an alternative framework to understand the deeply religious nature of safety which masquerades as ‘science’. To those who think that investigations are a necessary instrument to prevent future recurrence of accidents, bring justice or an attempt to get to the objective truth, I say that it is nothing more than a myth that gives meaning to the culture of risk and safety. There are other cultures and faiths that would view an accident as an ‘act of God’ (eg. Insurance Industry), a ritual of cleansing or the result of karma (function of our past actions). It’s the myth of the rational, scientific view (even when the futility of the search for ‘root cause’ is well known within the industry). Nevertheless, it is a myth (as constructed narrative) that gives meaning to a culture. Who are we to take away this myth or argue against it? (You can listen to my thoughts on myth here https://novellus.solutions/insights/why-myth-busting-should-concern-us/)
The hidden purpose in investigating accidents
An investigation is most often a deeply religious activity described as ‘science’ and intended to restore social and political order in a society when humans are faced with misfortune. Let me unpack this with a story.
In 2017, I met with Captain Schettino of the Costa Concordia who is currently in the prison serving a sentence of 16 years. When I spoke with the captain, one thing that struck me was the unforgiving nature of our industry. No one, Schettino says, came to speak with him from the industry to engage with his perspective while he was under house arrest for almost 5 years. His family was totally devastated and I could see the man was traumatised even five years after the accident. One of his family members would struggle to find a job in the maritime world because of his surname. It’s a telling example of the demonising that follows from accident investigations.
What leads to this extent of dehumanisation is not the press or the social media but the opinion of the experts that influence public perception. Subject matter experts will be the first ones to condemn the behaviour of those involved. In Schettino’s case, the trajectory for scapegoating was set within 48 hours of the accident by renowned maritime experts. It is another thing that the expert came from the tanker industry and became far too excited when he came to know that Costa Concordia was navigating too close to the land (which, by the way, cruise shipping is all about). But all this led to a serious distortion of public perception within the first 48 hours – a feast for media. Francesco Schettino was found guilty within 48 hours of the accident.
Needless to say, that the process of investigating and reporting was simply intended to align with public perception after 2 years and in compiling a 400 page comprehensive report. One could say the same about the Hoegh Osaka and the El Faro accidents. You only have to read through the conclusion of the El Faro’s accident report. Even the dead are not spared from the horror and the wrath of being demonised. In the case of the El Faro, the narrative of the report gives the impression that people wake up in the morning and consciously decide that they are going to run into a typhoon and die.
You can think of any major accident. Consequence is always held in proportion to culpability and crime. Conversely, where there are no consequences even in the face of chaos and uncertainty, chances are that those involved will be worshipped like superheroes. I’m specifically discussing the case of Captain Sully and the Miracle of Hudson Bay (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/US_Airways_Flight_1549). Isn’t it interesting that we call an accident ‘a miracle’ and attribution heroics to a single person for a safe outcome? In the end, myth will always precede reason.
Collectively, therefore, how we view people involved in accidents and how our views have historically reflected in accident reports begs a simple question. What really is the purpose of an accident investigation? And for that matter any investigation – legal, criminal, statutory or non-statutory and particularly those with consequential outcomes. Accident investigations were never meant to find the truth, serve justice or prevent recurrence. The primary purpose of an accident investigation is to restore social and political order at the behest of dehumanising those involved. (Read Mary Douglas on Purity and Danger). To understand how all this works in practice let’s turn to the next section.
Death denial as the basis of culture
The French philosopher Rene Girard would say that violence is a basic human instinct. When we are reminded of our death – following an act of terror, an accident or a ‘man-made’ disaster – violence is our collective instinctive reaction. (Think of the word ‘violation’ and ‘rule violation’ that so prevalent in risk and safety).
The American anthropologist Ernest Becker (The Denial of Death) went one step further. Becker was of the view that we are a death denying species. Humans are the only animals who live with the conscious awareness that we will die someday. Heidegger added to that by saying that it’s not enough to be conscious of our death but death in any moment. Even now as I sip a glass of wine and write this piece. And finally, that as embodied beings we are no different from potatoes or frogs in that we have a finite life. Imagine waking up every morning with this feeling that I am no different from a chicken in the farm. That should be awesome because it is humbling to know that we are not immortal and that none of us really matter in the grand scheme of things. But for most of us it is a dreadful realisation and as the Danish philosopher Kierkegaard would say, the source of all human anxiety.
Ernest Becker sees death denying anxiety as the basis for all human cultures. Every culture makes people feel that they matter by giving them collective myths, symbols, behaviours, and shared stories of what they consider success and failure. When a loved one dies, we gather and grieve, and we offer a prayer. If the death is unnatural, as it happens in some cultures, we demand an independent investigation, determine what went wrong, warrant action and hold people to account. When I stand by my neighbour in hard times, when I grieve along with my family at the loss of a loved one, when I vote for a political party as a fellow citizen to bring change, or when I work long hours to align with my company goals I am considered a valued member of my culture (whether at community, country, organisation or family level). Culture gives us a sense of meaning and self-esteem.
Here, a vital point to note is that the anxiety of death and the search for meaning and esteem does not affect us at the conscious level. It’s largely hidden in our unconscious. Keep that in mind. We do not discuss death; we do not even contemplate death – part of the reason why most graveyards and crematoriums are built outside the village or in the outskirts of the cities. Within the culture of risk and safety we even avoid using the word ‘death’. Death is taboo; we would rather use the word ‘fatality’. But denial of death is real and present in almost all cultures. We live with death denying anxiety every moment but we are mostly unconscious about it.
And when we are reminded of our limited shelf life – during an accident, an act of terror or a crime – our death denying anxiety floats to the surface. It is in those moments of existential terror that our culture comes to our rescue. Like a big brother guiding our walkway, Culture says to us – embrace your symbols (the Cross, the Buddha, Zero harm etc.), do your rituals (go to the church, say a prayer, investigate the root cause) and believe in your myth (a hero will come to save us, all accidents are avoidable, and investigations will bring us the truth). Have faith, everything will be fine.
When our worldview is threatened
But what happens when our culture is threatened or when the foundation of our belief systems is shaken? Let’s say I live in a free society like the United Kingdom. My cultural values are embedded in fairness, justice, individual rights, sovereignty of state, democratic values, freedom of expression, avoidance of harm and technological prowess. If I am a safety person, add one more element to it. I am also responsible for ‘saving lives’.
Now consider a foreign ship entering into my territorial waters and colliding with another ship at anchorage. With all the death and destruction that follows from an accident my death denying anxiety is activated and my worldview falls apart. Even if I think all this does not really affect me, I cannot hide from the constant noise that affects me on the internet, news or social media. We don’t realise that despite our best efforts each day we are being unconsciously primed by death denial. And so, as we go by our ordinary lives, our values are being threatened, our existence is undermined and our self-esteem comes under attack often without awareness.
Imagine, what would be our reaction when we come to realise that those responsible for our anxiety don’t belong to our culture. We don’t share the same worldview. They don’t speak like us, look like or believe as we do. Even in good times we humans cannot handle our differences very well but when we are reminded of death and destruction, we can become hostile towards those who don’t share our worldviews. Politicians thrive on our death driven anxiety and mass media and news agencies exploits our basic instinct for violence.
When this happens, scapegoating is not only inevitable, it is the only way to preserve our worldview to tame our violence and give meaning to our (death driven) anxiety. As Girard points out so poignantly, scapegoating is perhaps the most powerful ritual of humankind. If it were not for Schettino, the cruise industry would have collapsed on the night of the accident. Such is the power of the ritual of scapegoating.
How cultural prejudice influences investigations
Can investigators stay clear of the cultural prejudice that engenders from this anxiety? Investigators are also human beings and therefore unaware of the unconscious forces of culture at play. Imagine stepping on a ship and confronting the symbols and rituals of an alternative worldview. How do you make sense of people who speak a different dialogue, affirm by nodding their heads sideways, eat food that you can’t even smell, or watch them writing their log books in an alphabet that moves from right to left?
I remember recently going to the Aberdeen Hindu temple with a group of safety practitioners. Some could not even tolerate the half-naked apparel of the priest when he opened the door to welcome us inside the temple. These differences may seem trivial and yet they sit deep inside our unconscious and steer our moral compasses when we think we are being objective in trying to understand what went wrong. Forget investigators, even seasoned judges, magistrates and lawyers cannot escape the influence of cultural prejudice (Read Amsterdam and Bruner, Minding the Law).
What often emerges as the output of a lengthy investigation process is an extensive report, disguised in the language of ‘science’, backed with evidences and a ’no blame’ stamp right on the cover page. And yet, as we sift through the pages of the report, we find a deeply subjective and biased narrative and the reflection of the culture of an industry that stands in complete denial of death. Safety saves lives.
Safety saves lives
As Paul Slovic so rightly says, humans are mostly desensitised to mass sufferings but if you can tell an emotional story of a puppy being rescued from a gutter or a cat being saved from drowning in the river, millions will gather online to celebrate the ‘safety of life’. There’s nothing more cathartic than overcoming the fear of death, be it real, virtual or imaginary. One could make a fortune in this death denying dogmatic industry by chanting the same slogan each day – ‘our job is to save lives’. And yet, deep inside we are all aware that accident reports are not written to save lives but to chime in with the emotions of the uncritical masses who seek meaning, solace, certainty and a sense of closure in the face of misfortune.
The making of a scapegoat
A ship on autopilot rams into an anchored ship, causes havoc and it turns our worldview upside down. This is because, despite all claims to ‘fail safe, a tragedy happens.
If you are seeking an end to your anxiety there is nothing more that you need to do than wait for the verdict and the release of the formal investigation report. A dozen correct actions mostly focus on synonyms of ‘human error’, a handful of recommendations and a series of fleet safety alerts. I hope that justice will prevail for the ship’s crew but I remain pessimistic looking at the evolving narrative in public discourse.
The question is not what the investigators will uncover and bring to public attention. The question is that in search for ‘objective truth’ how would they deal with their own emotions when they are confronted with a worldview that does not align with theirs.
There is nothing really objective in the process of investigating an accident and there is little incentive in understanding the behaviour of those who not only do not align with our worldviews but also threatening them.
Come to think how beautifully well the maritime ecosystem is balanced. In good times, the owners seek to maximise profits, make sure that all the performance indicators illuminate in green, display all the certificates on the walls in pride, and incentivise all department heads for ensuring on-time arrival in port. In bad times, however, the scapegoat is ‘discovered’ and absorbs all the sins of the company and the death denying anxiety of an entire industry fooled by the myth of saving lives.
Long lives the scapegoat. Who really needs change?
