How an insurance guy spins

Herbie Gomez

“Criminal negligence – recklessly acting without reasonable caution and putting another person at risk of injury or death (or failing to do something with the same consequences)”

THE capitol spent the week that was spinning yarns about the March 17 death of 53-year old Allan Gaylawan when it could have just simply told the tragic story as is, expressed how sorry it was, and assured the public that important lessons have been learned and that measures would soon be in place in order to avoid a repeat of the tragedy.

There was really no need to spin but spin like crazy they did, and the result was a riot of incongruous tales and a concoction of ludicrous justifications that clashed with each other, and an unnecessary public relations nightmare that should not have happened if only they have been honest and truthful.

Here are the facts: Gaylawan is dead because he was physically unfit to take part in a rescue drill, and no one had known about his health status because the capitol never required the middle-aged worker to submit to a medical examination. Had they known, then Gaylawan, most likely, wouldn’t be allowed to climb that reservoir. Whether he was among those training, facilitating the training or merely helping out as a “volunteer,” the fact is that he died during a provincial government-sanctioned activity within the capitol’s premises.

Correct me if I am mistaken but it looks like the defect goes straight up to the top–and by that, I mean the Department of Interior and Local Government (DILG) or the National Disaster Risk Reduction Management Council (NDRRMC). I called up the head of one municipal disaster risk reduction management office in Misamis Oriental just to compare notes. He told me there is no clear-cut rule or instruction from the top for local governments to make medical examinations mandatory for all those involved in rescue work. It would

be absurd however for local governments to make the absence of a national policy an excuse because all it takes is a little common sense to know that it is not a good idea to make workers undergo strenuous training and perform dangerous tasks without checking if they are physically fit or not.

Fernando Vincent Dy, the head of the capitol’s Provincial Disaster Risk Reduction Management Office (PDRRMO), had the face to declare that there was no need for his men to show medical certificates because they were aware of the risks. That, frankly, is quite disturbing, and that didn’t speak well of how he processes and organizes his thoughts. If I were in the shoes of Gov. Bambi Emano, I’d send Dy back to the screwed up Misamis Oriental Telephone System (Misortel) where he can reclaim his old post as its manager and watch the company–not a human being–on its death bed. At least we can all agree that the capitol-owned Misortel does not need to show Dy a medical certificate.

The thing is that the capitol has not issued any categorical statement accepting responsibility for Gaylawan’s death. In fact, last week’s

pronouncements suggested that it didn’t want to be answerable or that it was shunning from its responsibility. And so, we heard lines like “it was an accident,” “we all take risks,” “he knew that he was sick and dying,” “he had a premonition about his death and told his wife about it,” and “he knew the risks,” among others. And the point is what? That it was Gaylawan’s fault?

Gaylawan’s death was unintended. No one wanted that to happen. That’s a given. But that wasn’t something that could really pass off as an accident. If a man fell from a reservoir while training or helping out in a training, that’s an accident. If someone dies in a car crash, that’s an accident. But the death of anyone who shouldn’t have been allowed to climb a towering water tank in the first place because he wasn’t healthy enough wasn’t exactly an accident. And comparing what happened to Gaylawan to roadkills or to dogs and cats that have been crushed by speeding vehicles really leaves a very, very bad taste in the mouth.

The risks are a given, yes. But the Provincial Disaster Risk Reduction Management Office is in the business of reducing risks. Now tell me, which of the circumstances surrounding Gaylawan’s death speaks of risk reduction? His work wasn’t strenuous? Oh c’mon, the man died on top of a hulking reservoir. Climbing it wasn’t strenuous? His death speaks of anything but risk reduction. Recklessness–the trait of giving little thought to danger–is written all over the Gaylawan case.

One moment, we hear an official claiming that Gaylawan was not among those training and that he was a mere training facilitator; the next, another says he wasn’t a participant and that he just went there as a volunteer. But then, their superior says Gaylawan was an actual participant and he was among those undergoing training in order to improve his rescue skills. One moment, an official says Gaylawan was not required to undergo a medical examination or submit a medical certificate; the next, another official says he did submit a medical certificate because it’s supposedly a government requirement for all job applicants, an assertion that self-destruct because the capitol’s human resources management office has no record of that document. And then we hear a capitol consultant making a claim that the capitol’s rescue workers, including Gaylawan (?), were made to undergo annual medical examinations. Can the gentlemen from the capitol, please, make up their minds?

There is nothing wrong with ordering an investigation into the death of Gaylawan if that would mean finding out what went wrong so that the capitol would know exactly how it can reduce the risks its rescue workers are facing each time they train and go out to save lives. If an investigation would mean giving the rescuers incentives such as hazard pay and insurance coverage or making them more equipped in order to reduce risks, why not? Why reject an investigation that could result in a policy that requires the rescuers to be examined first before they train or do fieldwork? If an investigation would result in fine-tuning or reforms or even a change in the PDRRMO leadership so that unnecessary loss of lives can be avoided, why not? Why is there this sudden allergic reaction to an investigation and medical certificates?

It’s baffling to hear capitol officials say that there is no need for an investigation because their PDRRMO chief’s incident report on the tragic death of the worker already satisfies them. Did Dy report about his whereabouts at the time when his men were doing the rappelling exercises and when Gaylawan passed out? Where was he, and what exactly was he doing–or playing–when Gaylawan collapsed on top of that reservoir? Based on Dy’s account, a PDRRMO facilitator was the first to rush to the top, and then two others from the nearby Philippine National Red Cross office came to help. Now, why was there a need for Red Cross people–yes, capitol outsiders–to come if the PDRRMO was prepared for something like that? It looks like Dy’s group can’t handle that kind of situation that they needed the help of outsiders. Why? This raises a very serious question on the PDRRMO’s capability to save people in Misamis Oriental. After what happened to Gaylawan, can Misamisnons continue trusting Dy and anyone he trains with their lives? And so, investigate.

No, Dy’s incident report is not enough. The capitol has to acknowledge first that something went wrong and that there is a flaw in the system, and then determine what it is by investigating so that it can fix the problem.

If you ask me, no one really needs to be brought to court although, I must add, that’s the call of Gaylawan’s family. No one wants a poor government worker to die. There is honor and courage however in taking responsibility for a terrible oversight that cost a man his life, something that neither Dy nor anyone in the capitol for that matter wanted to happen. There are times when government should lay down its defenses, stop spinning and just tell people the plain truth and nothing but the truth. Only when government does this would the public understand and commiserate with the “employer” (in this case, the capitol). But a government’s exaggerated defensive stance in a situation like this when its case is indefensible would likely result in misdirections and lies piling up on top of each other. That exactly was what the public saw in the capitol’s amateurish spins last week.

We can’t just sweep something like this under the rug, expect people to just forget about it, and charge the tragic experience to the will of some invisible supernatural being supposedly watching over all of us. Force majeure or “act of God” is the default answer of someone who doesn’t want to be held answerable.

Here’s an unsolicited advice to the capitol and other local governments: learn from the Gaylawan case, be a government, and stop thinking like an insurance guy. Pastilan.