Fire Safety That Starts with People: Why We Had to Do It Differently

It started with a quiet frustration. 

Not the loud kind that shouts over meetings or sparks debates. The kind that sits with you as you walk empty corridors after an audit. The kind that lingers as you drive home, knowing something essential is missing. 

Both Michal and I have spent years in fire safety. We’ve seen the aftermath when systems fail, walked through buildings that felt forgotten, and sat across from people trying to do the right thing but not knowing how. 

But there was something else we kept seeing. 

People—real people—becoming an afterthought in systems designed to protect them. 

For me, it was impossible to unsee. 

Alongside fire safety, I’m a psychotherapist. I sit with people as they navigate fear, trauma, anxiety, neurodiversity, and the weight of feeling like they don’t belong. I’ve seen how these experiences shape the way people hear information, how they absorb instructions, and whether they feel safe enough to engage at all. 

And it hit me hard: the way fire safety is delivered often doesn’t consider any of this. 

People weren’t failing audits because they didn’t care. They were falling foul of the law because they were too afraid to ask, didn’t understand, or masked confusion behind polite nods. 

So, we asked ourselves:  What if fire safety was designed around the people it’s meant to protect? 

Here’s the reality: Fire safety is mandatory. It’s the law. It’s there to save lives. But how it’s delivered? 

It rarely accounts for trauma or the fear that shows up as overwhelm. It rarely checks for understanding. It rarely adapts to the needs of those it’s meant to protect.  There’s never truly been an equality impact assessment on how fire safety is delivered. And when safety systems don’t consider peoples lived realities, unintentional exclusion happens. And that’s not just a missed opportunity. It’s a risk. So, we chose to do things differently. We don’t start with a list of regulations. We start with the people in the room. 

We notice: Who might be too embarrassed to ask Who may be masking struggles with language or comprehension. Who’s been in environments where questions were punished, not welcomed. Who has learned that authority is to be feared, not engaged with. And we hold space for them to be seen, heard, and respected. We’ve witnessed how a calm, person-centred approach transforms the room. How people lean in, not away. How they take what they’ve learned back to their teams, their homes, and their communities. 

Because when people feel respected, learning sticks. When people feel safe, they ask questions. When people feel seen, compliance isn’t forced—it becomes natural. 

Dignity and safety are not separate. They walk together. 

We’re not here to scrap everything that’s been built in fire safety. We’re here to add what’s been missing. Because when fire safety meets people where they are, it becomes what it was always meant to be: A system that protects lives. All lives. 

A moment for reflection 

If you’re reading this as someone responsible for fire safety, whether you’re a business owner, manager, or health and safety lead, this is not a judgement. 

It’s an invitation to pause. 

Ask yourself: 

Does our fire safety approach work for everyone on our team? Do we check for understanding, or do we assume it? Are we delivering in ways that people truly connect with, or simply repeating what’s always been done? 

If we’re serious about inclusion, we must include people in safety, too. Not just because it’s “the right thing.” But because it saves lives. 

With Care, R2B Fire Safety