The Illusion of Safety
A single opinion on a single opinion.
‘You learn safety by living it’
At least, that is the view of Clayton Kruger in his book The Illusion of Safety.
This book promises to cut through the bullshit and tell us the truth, or at least a specific single view of what the truth is.
I became aware of Clayton through his posts on LinkedIn. While casually scrolling through the land of the humble brag, Clayton’s approach to capitalisation in his posts, which rivals that of a certain world leader, caught my eye. His use of the word “woke” as a derogatory term increased my curiosity as to how someone who claims to want to protect people from harm, but fails to link the need to include a wide range of views and be able to connect with them to meet this goal.
The premise of The Illusion of Safety is built on the assumptions that
a) those working in safety are, or at least should classify themselves as ‘lifesavers’.
b) There is too much unworkable theory and not enough experience.
c) Workers good, consultants bad.
d) By following 3 (or 5, depending on which chapter you are reading) concepts, you can improve occupational safety for all.
After reading this book, I came to a quick conclusion: The only illusion is the idea that this book contains something new, confrontational or groundbreaking.
As we all do, Clayton uses his personal experiences as examples and frames them as a backdrop for his ideas on what works and what doesn’t. His story is one familiar to many. It is one of boots on the ground, in it with the troops, calling out bullshit approach to learning about risk. It isn’t the only one that is available, nor is it one that it would be easy to assume would work in all contexts or with all groups of workers. The examples provided are relatable if that is your working background, but they miss how workplaces, workers and organisational pressures have changed over time and the effects these changes have had on risk management approaches.
While Clayton might describe changes in how employees expect organisations to function and is happy to call out ideas he disagrees with as ‘woke’, he appears to have little time for anyone other than the most experienced straight-talking employees. The book's central concept, listening, does not seem to apply to the author’s own approach to anyone with whom he does not relate.
There is a tone of reverence for ‘real workers’ throughout. These no bullshit real salt of the earth types are (or act like they are) old-school, straight-talking types who come with intrinsic risk radars. They know what to do and have no time for consultants and suits.
Throughout the book, Clayton describes situations where the gap between what is observed and what is assumed differs. This work-as-done versus work-as-imaged principle first emerged in economics in the 1950s, and most people in safety attribute the phrase to research by Hollnagel and Woods in the 1980s.
In 2025, this observation isn’t a revelation, and Clayton isn’t adding anything new to the conversation through the examples provided.
I can see how the language which the author uses throughout the book will appeal to a certain audience. One who also feels that they are the lone crusader fighting against the system, but the reality much of the book is taken up explaining how hard the role of a occupational safety professional is and at times it feels like the author is placing the blame on the work of risk management and not his narrow minded approach to it for the negative outcomes, both personal and professional he has faced.
All of this is the author's right; it is, after all, his story. His lived experience is valid and as real as anyone else’s. Each of us takes what we have experienced throughout our lives, and it shapes who we are. This is why I found parts of the book so objectionable and why I think it ultimately fails.
The overt disregard for the needs of those who have not grown up in or do not associate with Clayton's worldview is startling, especially when the author has outlined the negative effects his approach to work had on him.
According to Clayton, risks don’t care about your feelings, and it would appear that neither does he. There is an important discussion to be had about communicating dangers and controls in high-risk occupations with diverse workforces, but flippant comments about pronouns, feelings and wokeness just highlight how far this book is from addressing it.
The book contains much to agree with, including the need to be able to challenge, the importance of experience, the value that those who are most exposed to risk have in helping organisations learn and the importance of relationships to managing risks. But these ideas are well established, and these positives are lost beneath a layer of rhetoric so thick that it suffocates any value out of the way these ideas are presented.
This leaves readers who aren’t already aligned with Clayton's views wondering why it wasn’t edited down to what could have been a meaningful article or even expanded to become an insightful biography of what I am sure is an interesting career story. As it is, it falls into the void between the two, not engaging enough to create a human connection, nor insightful enough to be a valuable learning opportunity.
If this book’s purpose is to confirm a narrow viewpoint to people who already agree, then I would say that the book is a success.