I’ve just come from running some training in Yarmouth.  I was standing at the rail way station, most of it is closed and on a rainy day it had the abandoned charm of the Soviet Union circa 1993. I saw a man wearing a CCCP shirt and it got me thinking (I should have asked him) – why did he buy that shirt when there are so many others to chose from. In fact why does anyone buy an obscurely worded t-shirt? It obviously means something to them but I suspect nothing to anyone else. Interesting.

Anyway, I was in Yarmouth running some training for an off-shore engineering company (easily the most dynamic industry in the UK and perhaps the only place where you can still see what engineering must have been like in Brunel’s time). I’d been asked specifically to help out with their health and safety seminars. Unlike some companies they took it seriously and were concerned that most of their employees thought it a waste of time. The chap who was supposed to run the training was called Ian. A nice middle aged lugubrious man who had accepted his fate (to deliver information and warnings that no one wanted and which caused active irritation amongst his colleagues  - like an old Soviet apparatik having to give production quotas to a collective farm  - developing a theme here.) His boss, Laura a lovely warm woman with huge energy and charm but with I suspect a granite fist within her velvet glove, wanted the seminars made relevant, memorable and entertaining. An easy gig then.

At first I thought we’d struggle.

Ian was eager to explain how difficult it was but not too keen to listen to possible solutions. This wasn’t too surprising – health and safety people by their nature are not into change and risk taking. However, as the day progressed it slowly became clear that I’d misjudged Ian. We talked about his values and passion. It was clear his values lay around family – and indeed he saw the whole company as family. He was quite genuinely doing the job because he loved them and didn’t want anyone to hurt themselves. However, up to now he’d never really admitted this to himself or his colleagues. As his colleagues prepared their own presentations he took me aside and said he had an idea. He was going to surprise everyone.

When the moment to perform his presentation came up, Ian walked forward. “I’m going to show you how to drill a hole using the correct safety gear, “ he said in time-honoured health and safety manner. Suddenly he ran out of the room. We were left fairly stunned. Then with the practised comic timing of Tommy Cooper, he returned dressed in a ludicrous amount of safety gear. Helmet, two visors, coat, big gloves etc. “Clearly I’ve overdone it, “ he said. More laughter. Then he made his point, told a story, got serious, used loads of audience participation, and finished with a summary and gag. A brilliant five minutes. Laura summed it up best, “If you do the next seminar like that we need never worry. It was brilliant.”

I’d seriously underestimated Ian.

Returning to my Soviet theme – uninspired people will do just enough to get by – when inspired, they can do extraordinary things. Oh, and if you ever want to see a relevant, memorable, entertaining and humorous health and safety seminar then you could do worse than catch Ian’s 90 minutes in Yarmouth.