5 Years, A Dachshund, and a Lot of Lessons

Five years ago, a LinkedIn message changed the direction of my career. It read:

“Would you be interested in working with DRA?”

My first thought? “Who’s DRA?”

After 15+ years in Oil & Gas, the name had never crossed my radar. My contract in the UAE had just been cancelled thanks to COVID, and like many others, I was looking for my next move. So, I said yes to an interview on Skype.

The big day arrived… and so did my dachshund, Cody. He sat firmly on my lap through the entire call, staring into the camera like he was there to negotiate terms on my behalf. That was my introduction to the world of mining construction. Unplanned. Unscripted. Slightly chaotic.

The 6:30 a.m. Wake-Up Call That Changed Everything

A few weeks later, my phone rang at 6:30 a.m. on a Saturday. My first thought? “Who calls this early unless someone’s dead?”

It was the then GM for HSE and Construction Support. His opening line?

“I have a job for you… But first, are you going to resign in a month or two?”

Not your standard job offer. I asked why.

“Because if you do, you’ll be the third Safety Manager to leave this site in as many months.”

That’s the kind of statement that makes you pause. My reply was honest:

“If that’s the case, there’s a bigger problem, and I can’t promise I won’t be a casualty of it.”

Weeks passed. Silence. Then came the call that started it all:

“This time, I really have a job for you. It’s a new project and you’ll be the first Safety Manager on it.”

And that was the leap from Oil & Gas into mining construction. A move that would teach me lessons I could not have learned anywhere else.

Culture Shock Is Real

On an oil rig, safety isn’t negotiable. It’s survival. Most everyone knows you can only run so far before you have to jump and swim, so everyone, for the most part, follows safety rules and work processes. In mining construction? Tight deadlines. Tight budgets. And the all-too-familiar phrase: “We’ve always done it this way.”

The mindset was a shock. I’ll never forget a senior contractor manager telling me straight to my face:

“I don’t give a [expletive] about safety.”

My response?

“Then I don’t care to have you on my site.”

And I meant it; he was immediately escorted off the site by security. Leadership starts with drawing the line on values because if you compromise for convenience, people pay the price.

Beyond Policing: Finding Purpose

It didn’t take long to realise that safety in construction was nowhere near what I was used to in the Oil and Gas industry. People actively took chances because it avoided uncomfortable conversations when timelines slipped. I knew if I didn’t change that perception, nothing would stick.

So, I started asking different questions:

How do we make safety add value instead of adding red tape?

How do we design processes that protect people and improve efficiency?

I went on a research binge. Tested new ideas. Removed unnecessary steps. Focused on what truly mattered: protecting lives while keeping projects moving. Because if it doesn’t make people safer or projects better, it’s just noise.

Where the Rubber Hits the Tar

Here’s the part most people don’t talk about: Making those calls isn’t easy.

I’ve had those “closed-door” conversations that weren’t so quiet. There were days of full-blown screaming matches with PMs, CMs and supervisors who believed production was king and safety was the court jester.

There were times when I had to remove guys from the site because their behaviour necessitated it, for their safety and that of everyone working with them.

And yes, sometimes I ignored certain reportables because my priorities were on the ground, where real risks lie, which did not always go down well.

Because safety leadership isn’t always about reports, it’s about making sure the guy working at heights or rigging heavy steel goes home alive. Sometimes that means breaking a few eggs and saying no when yes would make you popular.

The Unwritten Rule of Safety: You are only as good as your last f%$ck up

One thing I’ve learned, and learned the hard way, is that in this line of work and in this industry, no matter how good you are, how well you do your job and how hard you try, there will always be something where you are made to feel like a failure. No thanks, no handshake, not even a nod.

It used to bother me, I’ll be honest. I used to think, “Does anyone even see the work I’m doing? The effort I put into making things better and safer?” But over the years, I’ve learned to accept it as par for the course.

In safety, your wins are invisible, because they’re the incidents that never happened. Your biggest achievement is a day that ends with everyone going home in the same condition they arrived. It’s not glamorous, but it’s the job. In the end, if you’ve done the best you can, in the circumstances you were given, that’s enough.

The People Who Made the Difference

If there’s one thing these five years have reinforced, it’s this: you never do it alone.

I’ve worked with teams that live the culture of caring for those who work with us, irrespective of the name on their shirt or overalls, and others who spoke about it at meetings and left it there. Both experiences shaped me. Both made me better.

They pushed me to improve how I lead, communicate and influence. I learned that leadership isn’t about the title in your e-mail signature. It’s about creating an environment where people feel safe to think differently, challenge your ideas and contribute their own.

My teams know one thing: if they come to me saying, “I have a problem,” my first question is always: “What’s the solution?”

Not to be harsh, but to push their problem-solving abilities, to take ownership and create confidence in their abilities. Because leadership isn’t about babysitting, it’s about building people who have the self-confidence to become leaders themselves.

Five Lessons in Five Years

Adaptability is survival. Change or get left behind.

Compliance is the floor, not the ceiling. Real value lies beyond the minimum.

People over processes. Influence behaviour. Checklists won’t save lives.

Courage over convenience. Stand firm when it matters most.

Growth hides in discomfort. The hardest days teach the best lessons.

Closing Reflection

Five years. Countless early mornings, late nights, tough calls and sucking coffee up like it’s oxygen. Through it all, I’ve grown more than I imagined. I’ve learned more than I ever imagined, and I’ve had my abilities stretched far beyond what I thought possible.

If there’s one takeaway, it’s this: never settle for “we’ve always done it this way.” Question. Learn. Lead. Repeat.

Here’s to the next chapter. New lessons. New challenges. And maybe fewer 6:30 a.m. Saturday calls.