On Risk: The two stories I tell

Article Table of Contents

• Introduction
• Lynn Hill, an interrupted safety-critical process, and safety checks.
  • When performing a safety-critical process plan to not stop
  • do a safety check every time
• avalanche-related incidents leading to fatalities, themes
  • If someone else voices a concern in a group, and I hear it, I give it attention
  • If I am in a group, and I feel concern, I’m more likely to voice it
• I am sometimes rigid around these things
  • On entitlement & deserving
• Safety & Rigidity
• Additional Readings
• Footnotes

Introduction #

I have two stories that I notice myself telling others, repeating them. I like to write down things I repeat often (or at all).

The first story is about someone named Lynn Hill, and a time everyone thought she was attached to a rope.

The second story is about some common themes among a certain class of accident, “avalanche accidents/fatalities”.

I link emotional safety and physical safety, closely, in my mind.

These two stories neatly encapsulate some of the reasons, and come up repeatedly for me, often enough.

Lynn Hill, an interrupted safety-critical process, and safety checks. #

When I climb, I now always do a safety check.¹ Sometimes, this story comes up, especially if climbing with a new partner. I’ve said things like:

Have you heard that story about Lynn Hill? ² A time she fell 70 feet from the top of a warmup? Would have been fatal but landed in a tree and survived.

The time it takes to read this blog post is 100x longer than it takes for me to perform the actual safety check. The words I use is almost exactly something like: “i like the knot. two points. locks, locked” ³

Takes no time, barely a distraction from other ongoing conversation, if any.

This can all be accomplished in two or three seconds.

So, here’s the longer story I tell, about why I do this safety check every time, and how I introduce the story to others. It’s an interesting story ⁴

Lynn Hill was she was tying in with a bowline at an outdoor crag on a colder day, and was wearing a puffy jacket.

Something distracted her between when she started the bowline, and finished it. her jacket covered the belay loop, so it wasn’t visible/apparent to her or her belayer that she wasn’t tied in. if she wasn’t wearing the jacket, presumably it would have been obvious she wasn’t tied in.

She climbed the warmup, the rope stayed looped through her harness despite there being no knot. She leaned back for the lower, and fell from the top of the climb!!!

but for a strange, random, very convenient tree that caught her 70 foot fall, she would have been killed.

what a story. how horrifying it must have been to witness, to hear.

Something very familiar to people who climb is the sensation of sitting back in the rope at the top of a climb for a lower. Imagining the sensation of sudden weightlessness and falling when one expected snug tension… truly, obviously, the stuff of nightmares. I’ve had falling nightmares where I’ve dreamed of falling a long way. Oof.

I happen to tie in with a ‘double’ bowline + a ‘safety knot’ or a barrel knot. double overhand. Whatever. I use the bowline because I find figure 8’s very difficult to untie after I fall , and I sometimes, usually, often-enough fall a lot, and the knot can get extremely tight.

So, I now do a quick safety check every time i climb, and I ‘get’ one, or take one, from my belayer, even if they didn’t plan on doing it. I verify the correctness of their setup with my eyes and ears.

When I’m the belayer, I’ll say “I like the knot” and then I click the grigri cam a few times by pulling on the climber’s side of the rope coming out of the device, and I click the carabiner a few times to show it’s locked, to hear that it’s locked. If both parties expect it, it can take three seconds, can be done as the climber is walking to the wall, or, if I forgot (rare, but happens) i’ll do it while they’re on the wall, on the first few feet of the climb. I consider the sounds of the safety check to be part of the verification process, thus it can work for the climber even if they’re facing away from me, beginning the climb, listening but not seeing.

I observe that this process increases physical safety, telegraphs a certain completeness and attentiveness to things that are undeniably important.

If I’m with a new climbing partner, it promotes peace within myself if I see their easy participation in the safety checks. I’ve been told directly a few times that someone else’s confidence in my belay is incrementally improved by experiencing the safety check, even if they know nothing else about my belay, and it’s the first time I’ve belayed them.

There’s two take-aways from the story:

When performing a safety-critical process plan to not stop #

Be non-responsive to ‘distractions’, like someone handing something. If you ask someone to hand you something, and they happen to hand it to you while you’re tying your knot, it’s sorta jarring to not take it out of their hands, or maybe they’ll toss it to you.

I’ll say ‘ah, one moment’, and will keep tying the knot, even if they have the thing extended to me and are waiting for me to take it. (a chalk bag, water bottle, shoes, quick draws, whatever.) Obviously they can put it down on the ground or whatever, if you wanted to spend 60 seconds dealing with a knot, you’re fully entitled to taking the time.

So, even if it feels a little rude, I won’t stop tying in, once I start. OR! I might pull the whole thing out of my harness, ending the attempt at the knot, putting the rope down away from my body, before I use my hands for anything else. But I think I mostly low-key ignore the thing I label as a distraction.

Another frequent domain for this ‘don’t interrupt a safety critical process’ is putting on my full-face motorcycle helmet and closing the chin strap. - the helmet doesn’t count as ‘on’ if the chin strap is not closed, it would pop right off the head in a fall.

do a safety check every time #

100% of the time I’m attached to a rope, I do a safety check. That means pulling on the rope to ‘prove’ the correctness of the knot, gri-gri. I prefer my partner to do the safety check with me, but if they don’t, I’ll still do my safety check, out loud, to both of us.

This tiny change makes me and every person I climb with for the rest of my life impervious to this particular class of error. Not bad, eh?

avalanche-related incidents leading to fatalities, themes #

The other story is about avalanches, and… I cannot find the paper right now.

There’s a paper I read once that talked about how in nearly every instance of an avalanche fatality, someone in the group expressed a concern about some aspect of the trip. something about the gear, the conditions, the weather, capacity, etc.

And in these cases, someone else in the group sorta over-rules the concern, pushing the group forward towards completion of the objective. Then there’s an avalanche, and an unsuccessful/insufficient recovery of the person(s) caught up in the avalanche.

why would someone push through concerns?

A memorable instance of this phenomena was:

a tech company CEO was out on a back country trip with at least one person responsible for investments in that company. Tech CEOs are supposed to project airs of confidence, pushing forward, always achieving the goal. Conditions were marginal for the trip. Do you think the tech CEO would say to the investor “well, this could be fine, but I’m a little concerned that because the freeze/thaw cycles over the last few days, the slopes are more unstable than I’m comfortable with, so let’s not actually go out today.”

They both might tell the story that “if CEO is hesitant to make moves with avalanche risk, maybe CEO is also hesitant to spend the hundreds of millions of dollars he’s receiving in investment money in a sufficiently aggressive way.”

So… CEO presses onward, and at least one person died that day.

From outside online, here’s an instructor talking about the risk assessment he made that particular year:

“I’ve backed off more lines this year than I have in a long time,” he said. “You know, there is no shame in just walking away from something and saying, ‘This isn’t worth it.’”

[…]

The next morning, Dave Marshall, a member of Kobrock’s group, started having an eerie feeling about the day. His son, Pete, was in the other group, and Dave worried about the safety of their route. And George, who normally would go skiing or do chores while the class was in the field, was asked by Kobrock, just before she left with her students to dig snow pits, if he would hang around the lodge with a radio as a safety measure—something he’d never been asked to do in more than two decades of hosting avalanche courses at the lodge.

[…]

Basic safety protocol dictates skiing avalanche terrain one person at a time—that way only one person is exposed to a potential slide. Lovell explained that he would ski first, to establish a boundary on the right. He then instructed each student to drop in after the prior skier had descended the upper part of the slope, hastening the group’s progress but also placing multiple people on the run at once. One of the students, Andrew Reed, nervously locked eyes with the lone woman in the group.

PEOPLE’S RISK RADARS WERE PINGING OFF THE CHARTS!!!!

It wasn’t this particular outside online article that highlighted the phenomena I’m trying to name in this blog post, but it covers close enough conceptual territory.

I wonder if it was in one of the american alpine club’s accident journals that I found the story, like: https://americanalpineclub.myshopify.com/collections/aac-publications/products/2020-accidents-in-north-american-climbing The annual accident journal is the main reason I’m a member of the AAC.

The group dynamics of this phenomena are interesting.

usually, the person raising the concern ‘less experienced’ relative to others in the group, and the person over-riding them is among the more experienced part of the group.

Eventually, avalanche, and someone dies, or a situation that shouldn’t have been fatal is fatal, for whatever reason. Avalanches are non-fatal if the person caught in it can be located and rescued quickly enough, too. An avalanche fatality generally requires errors around both estimating the conditions, and not performing a rescue quickly enough.

I remember the take-away from this story is

often someone expressing doubt or fear or uncertainty is clued into a real issue, and at minimum their concerns ought not be suppressed, but perhaps drawn out and greeted with warmth.

Also, errors usually compound.⁵

It’s not one thing that goes really wrong, but it’s one minor thing that goes wrong, that perfectly aligns with something else that also goes wrong. Rushing can be a big part of mistakes and errors. And moving quickly can be a part of staying safe.

Plenty of issues crop up when someone notices inadequate gear, insulating layers, rescue equipment, batteries for a headlamp, whatever. If, even with inadequate gear, the trip continues, now a single other point of failure could become a big deal. A sprained ankle becomes an unexpected over-night, which wouldn’t be an issue unless someone forgot their insulating layer, and now hypothermia is a big issue. Does one continue or remain stationary?

Thus, the big take away for me, from this story:

If someone else voices a concern in a group, and I hear it, I give it attention #

This is my norm, now. I know group dynamics, it’s hard sometimes to speak up, so if I ever hear someone else speaking up, I think of this whole avalanche dynamic and respond warmly, regardless of my relative skill or power within the group.

ooh, what was that thing you mentioned? hm, that does seem relevant. good that you brought it up….

If I am in a group, and I feel concern, I’m more likely to voice it #

So, of course, I can respond warmly to others’s voicing their concerns, and I can respond warmly to me voicing concerns! I wrote recently about not neglecting the role of the Witness and that’s in line with this concept - one can Witness oneself, or one’s own recognition of discomfort or risk, and feel bolstered in voicing the risk to others.

I also easily recall the gist of the 18 principles of failure from how complex systems fail. I dislike when I see other people taking actions that seem to increase their exposure to real risks, and because of all of this (gestures at this collection of writings) I feel pretty comfortable validating my own risk assessments.

I’ve some clear memories of times other people have tried to stamp down my risk assessments, and in every case, I remember thinking differently about that person, updating my assessment of them based on their responses to my mention of concern or risk.

For example, I continue to be cognizant that driving in America is the riskiest activity to everyone ⁶ not just the people who drive, the/a top cause of death and injury (or the number 2 cause of death and injury) for basically all people between newborns and old age. Since I have accurate/low opinions of american traffic engineering, I do not evaluate road networks as ‘safe/safe-enough by default’.⁷

I am sometimes rigid around these things #

I note that others have sometimes experienced me as rigid or entitled when moving in some of these domains, and others, with me. I don’t always love it, and I don’t particularly enjoy experiencing myself in these ways either. So, I’ll always affirm someone’s experience. At least sometimes now I try to name it when I notice it in myself.

I don’t, and will never do back country skiing or anything like that, so avalanche concerns are not germane to me. The story, though, the principles, the theme of ‘someones sensitivity to risk ought to be treated in non-dismissive ways’ lives deep in my bones, and a few different people have encountered pretty pushy versions of me when I feel dismissed with some specific safety concerns.

I grow more demanding, maybe pushy, maybe manipulative, and sometimes even coercive if it feels like the way I brought something up is made more important than the thing I’m trying to name, and the thing I’m trying to name ends up dismissed.

I’ve memories of dismissiveness and disattunement at least from crappy childhood caretakers, and when I encounter anything that smells similar as an adult, it’s easy for me to remember the sensations of powerlessness, disconnection, and even shame, that resulted from experiences with those people. (various responses/non-responses can easily telegraph something that rounds to ‘misplaced guilt’, shame, etc).

I don’t like that for adult me, so I try to not re-experience it. and it feels uncomfortably close to a ‘power move’, or something coercive, to move with entitlement to someone fitting your preference for communication before you extend a willingness to hear them.

I note the situations where there is mutuality around the safety issue, whatever it is, the conversation has a gentle, coherent, synchronized feel to it. Dismissivness or disconnection has a harsher, non-concordant feel to it.

When my kid and I overhear tense voices, or anger, or whatever, sometimes in a movie or a show, sometimes in real life, we’ll often discuss what we notice in it.

I sometimes take the assessment that “I deserve to be heard as carefully/respectfully as anyone else deserves to be heard.”

For instance, lets say that in a decade, my kid is in a group and has a safety concern. How much do they deserve to be taken seriously?

However much they presumably deserve it then, I can affirm that I deserve to be taken at least as seriously now. even without knowing other parts of a presumed larger story, anyone obviously deserves to use their voice to advocate for safety, or if they’re not feeling it, they should feel equipped to opt out of the situation. If someone isn’t comfortable with avalanche risk, can they turn around and go home alone? If so, they’ve got a good BATNA (Best Alternative To a Negotiated Agreement). “oh, you’re going to continue even though it’s risky? I don’t love that for me, so I’m turning around here. I’ll have a nice time taking myself back, see you there! 👋”

On entitlement & deserving #

To feel deserving of something is by definition entitlement. When someone is/thinks they are/feels entitled to something, often enough they’ll be coercive to achieve or retain those things they feel entitled to. It seems reasonable to say that sometimes entitlements are fair (one’s entitlement to their bodily autonomy) and some entitlements are deeply, deeply unfair.

Thus, entitlement is a risky thing.

Much coercion, maybe most, seems rooted in entitlement.

when it’s not rooted in entitlement, some coercion might be rooted in disattunement. Someone can be coercive, and maybe not entitled, but disattuned, and might thus not even notice the coercion. I usually think of entitlement as leading to disconnection, but I could find a believable story about maybe it’s disconnection/disattunement that is the setup for entitlement.

On the ‘severe’ side, settler colonialism and genocide emerges from entitlement and disconnection. :(

Maybe the way to debug fair from unfair entitlement is “How might the involved parties feel if the roles were flipped? How do the entitlements fit that updated situation?”

Safety & Rigidity #

So, good safety processes matter. When something’s ‘off’, it is often something someone can perceive, thus risk assessments are, can be, helpful input, and healthy systems can metabolize risk assessments.

When risk assessments get squelched, it sometimes is rooted in someone moving with entitlement (the entitlement to shut down the concern). But really, the entitlement belongs to the person voicing the risk.

I mention the entitlement part because when we’re inflexible, we’re often moving with entitlement, and I notice that when I am inflexible, at least in some ways, i’m moving with entitlement directly related to these two stories.

So, I note inclined to rigidity when my risk assessment is seemingly (coercively) denied, dismissed, by someone else, which lands on me as if it’s rooted in entitlement. If there wasn’t entitlement, there wouldn’t be rigid dismissiveness, and there’d be less/no need for my own counter-rigidity.

Thus, even rigidity could be, should be, part of the risk assessment. Or “I feel rigidity, is there more risk somewhere? Is there rigidity?”

There are two stories about risk.

One practical climbing risk mitigation tactic: safety checks & being actually attached to the end of the rope you think you’re attached to.

Since I’ll never do back country anything, I don’t benefit from the other story of avalanche risk mitigation. The principle seems useful, though. voicing risk, the response, dismissal, and maybe bad things happen

Maybe it’s because of the possible severity of the ‘bad things’, that dismissiveness sometimes lands as coercive in some way.

my current mental model of coercion has it often-enough attached to entitlements, and since I’ve found myself being sometimes coercive, certainly sometimes rigid and pushy on these things, I wanted to try to paint a path of possible coherence, because sometimes I do feel entitled to things, and I don’t think it’s wrong. You are entitled to plenty of things, too!

Is not coerciveness in defense of a fair entitlement reasonable? so if coerciveness arises somewhere, I want very quickly to debug the broken entitlements.

Often enough, half of the debugging is found simply in the naming of the entitlements. one can start the debugging process without knowing the conclusion, because of this. perhaps.

Additional Readings #

If curious, these have all been sources of interestingness around these topics:

• Psychological Safety & Meaningfulness
• Conditions for intuitive expertise: a failure to disagree I really like the framing - there’s a ‘failure to disagree’ between two experts that lots of people were like “ooooh their theories are in opposition to each other!”. So they got together and said “we emphasize two different aspects of the same thing. We’ve had a failure to disagree.” and I like the framing. Collaborative communication could regularly enough turn up something like “failures to disagree”. Right-spotting vs. wrong-spotting. “Can I find this thing to be reasonable” vs “must I find this thing to be reasonable?”
• Liberating Structures says about itself: “Five conventional structures guide the way we organize routine interactions and how groups work together: presentations, managed discussions, open discussions, status reports and brainstorm sessions. Liberating Structures add 33 more options to the big five conventional approaches.”

Footnotes #