Listed in Daily Tasks
I've attended plenty of safety meetings over the years. I've watched countless training videos, sat through toolbox talks, and reviewed more safety policies than I can remember. Those things all have their place. Every highway department needs rules, procedures, and training. But during my years as a deputy highway superintendent in upstate New York, I came to believe that a genuine safety culture isn't built in a conference room. It's built in the everyday interactions between people who genuinely care about one another. Employees can tell the difference between a supervisor who talks about safety because they're worried about OSHA and a supervisor who talks about safety because they're worried about them.
That difference matters.
Leadership Isn't Just Giving Orders
One of the biggest mistakes leaders make is assuming that safety is simply about enforcing rules. If employees only wear their personal protective equipment because they're afraid of getting yelled at, what happens when the supervisor isn't around? The goal shouldn't be compliance. It should be commitment. When employees understand that safety is about protecting themselves, their coworkers, and their families, following the rules becomes a natural outcome instead of an obligation. People don't work safely because they're being watched. They work safely because they've adopted the right mindset.
A Cooler Full of Gatorade
One lesson that has stayed with me had nothing to do with hard hats or excavators. It started with a cooler. On especially hot summer days, I would stop at Walmart on my way to work, buy several bags of ice and a supply of Gatorade, load everything into a cooler, and spend part of the day driving from crew to crew offering everyone a cold drink. Some people might think that was simply being nice. It wasn't. It was about safety. Before working for the highway department, I served in the U.S. Army Intelligence Corps (and no - it is not a contradiction in terms). During my military service, I experienced dehydration more times than I care to remember. I learned firsthand that dehydration doesn't always announce itself with flashing warning lights. It creeps up on you. You're focused on the mission. You know it's hot, but you don't realize you've gone an hour...or two...without drinking enough water.
By the time you recognize what's happening, you're already behind. That's why I never assumed everyone was taking care of themselves. I wanted to make hydration easy. I wanted to remind them that someone was paying attention. Over time, something interesting happened. Several of our foremen began bringing bottled water for their own crews. Depending on the crew, employees would often chip in a few dollars to help cover the cost. I never asked anyone to do that. The idea simply spread. Sometimes leadership isn't about telling people what to do. It's about quietly demonstrating what caring for your employees looks like until others begin doing the same.
"I Don't Feel Safe."
Another lesson involved the most important and most disliked piece of personal protective equipment: hard hats. Like many highway departments, there were times I'd come upon employees working without them. Sometimes they were standing well within the swing radius of an excavator; even down in the trench. Now, I had worked under supervisors whose response would have been immediate yelling, swearing, and insulting everyone's intelligence (despite their own intelligence being on fairly shaky ground). The crew certainly heard them. But I often wondered whether they heard the message. I chose, quite accidentally, a different approach. Instead of barking orders, I'd simply say, "I don't feel safe with you standing there unprotected."
Notice what I didn't say. I didn't say, "You're not safe." They already knew that. That was far too obvious. But these were bearded manly-men. I didn't lecture them about department policy. I didn't threaten disciplinary action. I made it personal. "I don't feel safe." Those four words completely changed the conversation. Instead of sounding like I was enforcing a rule, I was expressing genuine concern for another human being. I wasn't worried about a policy violation. I was worried about them. People respond differently when they know someone sincerely cares about their well-being. I don't know why my mind chose that wording, but it stuck with me, and it was effective without me having to beat my chest and threaten write-ups.
Safety Is Contagious
One thing I learned over the years is that attitudes spread through a department just as quickly as bad habits. If supervisors cut corners, employees notice. If experienced operators ignore safety equipment, new employees notice. If management only talks about safety after someone gets hurt, employees notice that too. The good news is that positive behaviors spread just as easily. When foremen started bringing water to their crews, they were reinforcing the same message I had hoped to send. When employees began reminding each other to wear hard hats or safety glasses before anyone else had to, that was culture taking root. The best safety programs eventually become self-sustaining because employees begin looking out for one another without waiting for a supervisor to step in. That's when you know you've succeeded.
The Little Moments Matter
When people think about leadership, they often imagine giving speeches or making big decisions. I've found leadership is usually much quieter than that. It's stopping to ask whether someone has had enough water today. It's noticing that an employee seems unusually tired. It's picking up the ice melt before someone slips outside the garage. It's taking five extra minutes to make sure a work zone is properly set up. It's thanking someone who points out a hazard instead of making them feel like they're complaining. These moments don't make headlines. But they shape the culture of an organization.
Your Employees Are More Than Employees
One thing I never wanted to lose sight of was that the people working for our department weren't simply names on a payroll. They were husbands and wives. Mothers and fathers. Sons and daughters. Grandparents. Friends. Someone was expecting them to come home that evening. When you remember that, safety stops being a checklist. It becomes personal. It has to. And, yes, it can be trying with certain loud-mouth employees, but you should care about them too. Sometimes you just have to say, "Listen, you're a pain in my ass, but I don't want you to get hurt."
The Culture You Build Is the Culture You Leave Behind
Policies can be rewritten, safety manuals can be updated, and equipment will eventually be replaced. But the culture a leader creates often lasts long after they're gone. If employees remember that you cared more about them than production schedules, they'll carry that attitude forward. They'll remind the next generation of employees to wear their hard hats. They'll tell someone to slow down. They'll offer a bottle of water on a ninety-degree day. They'll speak up when something doesn't look right. That's the kind of legacy every highway leader should hope to leave. Because at the end of the day, the measure of a safety culture isn't how many policies are sitting in a binder. It's how many people are still around to go home to their families because someone cared enough to say, "I don't feel safe with you standing there."