The comparison of firefighters to cops and soldiers is ubiquitous. We are all civil servants. Many of us became first responders after significant events, like 9/11 or the pandemic. It is understandable why many group us together – and the “Thank You for Your Service” message is nice feedback.
There is a natural correlation between fire and police, including simple factors like pay and benefit parity. Furthermore, it’s easy to see why fire departments became linked with the military. We use a similar rank structure. We have uniforms, and march, salute and drill. We have strategy and tactics. We talk of firefighting as if it were combat on a battlefield (“slay the dragon,” “kill the enemy”). We even hold military-style ceremonies for fallen members.
Beyond the construct that firefighters, police officers and soldiers are all civil servants, we see an immediate difference in the vision, mission and values of our discrete disciplines as it relates to one key word: lethality – the capacity to cause death or serious harm or damage.
Far more often than firefighters, police and soldiers can face a human adversary that is trying to kill them for some gain. The interaction takes on an us vs. them mentality – kill or be killed, fight on at all costs. As such, police officers and soldiers have the authority to take a life as part of their job.
For firefighters, while hostile fire can take our life based on chemistry and physics, there is no intent in the fire itself. The job of the fire service is to put the fire back under control and reduce human risk. In the tragic cases where firefighters are shot when they arrive, we are victims of crime. We are not authorized, equipped or trained to shoot back.
I understand the appeal of fire companies wanting to be seen as Navy SEAL teams or police SWAT, but we are simply not that. When it comes to lethality, police and soldiers are different in degree. Firefighters are different in kind. They take life when necessary; we do not. Police officers are taught constitutional law, and soldiers are taught the Law of War because they are authorized to take a life as part of their job. Firefighters have no comparable “law.”
Why does this matter?
Cops and soldiers risk their lives before a human enemy; as such, society does not find fault or place blame on the officer or their organization when an officer is killed in action, in the act of protecting others. The ultimate example of this is a soldier killed by friendly fire during combat; their death is still considered Killed in Action. So, the cultural norm becomes that the death of a soldier or police officer is heroic because it was caused by an enemy, even when it wasn’t.
Similarly, for the past 20 years, NIOSH Fire Fighter Fatality Investigation and Prevention Program reports have not placed blame or found fault in any of their studies. The reports present a straightforward look at what happened, plus contributing factors and recommendations for avoiding similar deaths.
While these reports have been a valuable source of lessons learned for years, in my opinion, the lack of discussion around human factors has been a barrier to identifying the root cause of firefighter injury and death on the fireground.
That could soon change.
NIOSH is asking for input on how to include human factors in their studies:
Item 4 will continue to fortify the barrier that’s preventing us from identifying the cultural, psychological and human factors that contribute to firefighter injury and death on the fireground.
Remember, we have been working on Firefighter Life Safety Initiative #1: Culture for 20 years. We have made strides in this area, but we have not had the courage to address the elephant in the room. Firefighter deaths may be considered heroic and deemed the “ultimate sacrifice” by some; however, they should NOT unilaterally be considered “part of the job.” It is important to remember here that we are not cops or soldiers.
Firefighter deaths are occupational fatalities that are preventable at some level. We should strive to transcend our addiction to hagiography (justifying all deaths by making saints and martyrs) in the interest of decreasing the number of firefighter fatalities. Including the truth related to human factors at the individual, group, organizational and discipline levels in our study of firefighter deaths will help us understand and change our fire culture.
Bottom line: The fire service and fire culture must overcome the instinct to see firefighter, police officer and soldier deaths as the same. They are a difference in kind, especially when it comes to occupational fatalities. When a firefighter is injured or killed, something went wrong; it is not part of the job and must be reviewed accordingly, including the human factors at play.
Do we have the courage to discuss this at the Firefighter Life Safety Summit this month – the 20th anniversary of the 16 Life Safety Initiatives?
