Many years ago, I was the principal engineer for a steel mill operation. I was on a first-name basis with plant management. Upper corporate management decided we could sell more product if we added a new chemical finishing process. In addition to being the resident engineer, I was assigned to supervise the chemistry experiment. We were not told how many questions were unanswered. The system was poorly designed, crude and unsophisticated. Frankly, I do not think the proponents realized how little they knew. As mills go, we were small, about 240 employees, but our output was measured in tens of thousands of tons per year. Our furnaces used half the natural gas in the county.
As we proceeded, a lot of issues came up that were, I’ll just say not good. Rashes were a common complaint. Twice we had to evacuate the 200,000 square foot building due to toxic gas. I narrowly averted a potential explosion when a retort suddenly had four times the pressure it was supposed to. I disconnected a 2-inch hose and the “nonflammable” gas I released into the garage size furnace became a fire hose of flame that roared like a jet engine.
Our progress did not match expectations. One day, the lead proponent suggested in a meeting that the only problem was that the shop, aka me was “draggin’ its ***-**** ******* ***.” I left that meeting not happy. I wandered around the rest of the 80-acre facility to think until quitting time.
I went home and typed a confidential letter to my boss that said the operation was unsafe, unhealthy, downright dangerous, and as a licensed professional engineer I took an oath to protect health and could not participate in its operation. I also stated I would do whatever I could to make it safe. The next day, I gave the letter to my boss. He told me to go in my office shut the door and not talk to anyone. An hour later, he sent me to talk the plant manager
In my letter, I had declined to specify the hazards and did not include the details. It was not my goal to harm the company. Frankly, I expected to be fired — because mostly that’s what happens to whistle-blowers. I was asked if it was my intent to go public and I told him no, my goal was to protect the company, my coworkers and the surrounding community from a catastrophe.
A similar funny thing happened to me at an airport right after 9/11. I had observed a gap in security and went to talk to the TSA about it. TSA had banned butane lighters in carry-on luggage, good idea. Once inside the terminal, it was possible to buy several. I went past the soldiers with (loaded?) M14 rifles and found a civilian suit who looked like he had some authority. I explained my concern and expected to be thanked for noticing. Instead, there was a lengthy interrogation and accusation of making a threat. I worried about missing my flight.
Back at work; my bosses boss asked me for specifics, then told me to write a confidential report of the difficulties, by hand, eyes only. I started out by making notes on cards. Eighty six of them! Those cards just detailed the problems we had already experienced. For example, employees were measuring toxic chemicals with coffee cans and no personal protective equipment (PPE). I was excused from the unwanted responsibility but not fired. I give the company credit for that, but I also looked for new employment.
Some of my concerns were addressed. Ultimately, the chemical process was discretely abandoned as an economic disappointment. Shutting it down may have prevented tragedy.
More recently, I asked some TSA inspectors about the lighters that are no longer banned. They told me the concern in 2001 was that they did not know what fuel might be in a carry-on lighter, but they knew or at least were confident the ones on sale inside the terminal were ordinary. Remember, TSA’s mission is to get the nervous people to quietly board the plane.
Ken Obenski is a forensic engineer, now safety and freedom advocate in South Kona. Send feedback to obenskik@gmail.com