Brown: Why have regulations when you can have safety shanties?

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I learned recently that late 19th century lumberjacks in the North Woods turned horrific accidents into cautionary songs. These rhyming songs were easy to memorize and spread throughout North American logging camps.

As I was reading some of these old lyrics, I realized that lumberjacks used songs in lieu of the safety training that modern workplaces typically require. In other words, lumberjacks didn’t have OSHA, they had shanties.

Then last week, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services laid off most staff from the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health. This agency conducted much of the research that helps improve safety at workplaces of all kinds. The fact that deadly accidents at work are rare is thanks to this research.

Given that a box of angry raccoons might soon oversee worksite safety, it could be time to revive that old shanty tradition. Today’s workers might not ride undulating logs down a river, but they do face many serious modern safety risks. Perhaps we may mitigate the dangers through the DOGE-approved power of song.

Let us begin.

A lass once typed with the speed of a falcon.

Her name was Becky O’Connell.

Her fingers spit pages like a new Epson,

until she got carpal tunnel.

O Becky, O Becky, your wrists ineffectual,

two stumps where your hands ought to be.

Becky, she cries, her crisis existential,

“Text to type can’t understand me.”

Ergonomics and repetitive motion injuries aren’t the only peril facing the modern workplace. There’s also office politics. Sometimes, to get ahead, you must know who to avoid.

Gather ‘round colleagues and hear the tale

of Bob from accounts receivable.

Nary a newbie dodges his wrath,

nor escapes his breath unappealable.

His emails bubble with bile and scorn;

he made the comptroller cry.

At lunch he heats up day-old cod fish

and gives everyone the skunk eye.

Of course, workplace technology is always changing. Often, you’re expected to know how it works before you even know what it is.

Turn on your laptops and download the app

Yo ho, Microsoft Teams

Notifications be all over the map

Yo ho, Microsoft Teams

Is this a call or just a chat?

Yo ho, Microsoft Teams

You only find out after you’ve sat

Yo ho, Microsoft Teams

Teams, Teams

You haunt my dreams

whenever reminders do tone.

Teams, Teams

You don’t sleep it seems,

instead, you bedevil my phone.

Industrial worksites have long required “right to know” training for handling chemicals and avoiding injuries. But if these low-res videos full of stilted acting and endless bullet points disappeared in a federal purge, we’d have to cover our butts with something like this:

Young Billy Munoz worked hard at his job;

his crew all agreed he was stellar.

But now he’s gone on to the world beyond

from the burn of a chemical seltzer.

The morning truck brought the bad luck,

the cylinder covered in stickers.

Numbered squares blue, yellow and red,

along with skulls, bones and flame flickers.

Young Billy Munoz, for reasons unknown,

said “Guys, I think I’ll drink some.”

“You shouldn’t,” we said, but soon he was dead,

for Billy guzzled it down like rum.

Naturally, one of the biggest challenges in a shanty-based system of safety training is the fact that workers must sing these songs constantly for the desired effect. Onboarding will need to screen for the right mix of sopranos, altos, tenors and basses. When you see the boss with a guitar, you’ll know a new policy is about to drop. An accordion? Best update your resume.

This could get tricky in workman’s compensation litigation, but I’m sure we can find some friendly judges to compose a song for that, too. The important thing is that we reinstate the 19th century as quickly as possible. Why solve problems when you can gild them?

It’s been zero days since something’s gone wrong

Let’s fix it all with a dance and a song

Make a big show and someone will say,

“What’s the point of society?”