“Criticism will plant fear in the human heart, or resentment, but it will not build love or affection.”
— Napoleon Hill
When I entered the fire service in 2003, we stood on the shoulders of giants; pioneers who fought for SCBAs and bunker gear, to protect firefighters and enable us to get to more trapped victims. Brave voices forced health changes, pushing post fire decon and plymovents, driven by the cancer epidemic that stole our brothers’ and sisters’ lives. As my own career progressed, these occupational diseases began to kill my friends. Year after year I would attend firefighter funerals. Bagpipes, drums and last calls playing as folded flags were handed to heartbroken children. Ten years ago, I started the Behind the Shield Podcast to bring the physical and mental health experts of the world to the first responder community. I assumed these conversations would be embraced by a community that prided itself on brother and sisterhood.
What I wasn’t prepared for was the fire service troll. No matter how hard some fought for proactive change, the loudest voices were the critics. I couldn’t understand how these unending losses didn’t drive an overwhelming wellness movement among our beloved profession. Then it became clear. This is also a side effect of the health crisis, a refusal to acknowledge the detrimental health impacts of the job by the critics themselves. Some joke to the probies “You wait, in ten years you’ll be on your third divorce and have an alcohol problem”, but there’s nothing funny about that. It’s a brutal truth that reflects culture, not the profession itself. It’s not normal for a station to have so many CPAP users that the bunkroom looks like a bar from Star Wars.
It is my generation who have the power to be the next fire service trailblazers, to revolutionize firefighter health and performance the same way our forefathers innovated tactics. But Gen X are also the loudest detractors, choosing to fight change rather than address their own struggles. Phrases like “the 48/96 is better than the 24/72!” just shows the ignorance that still flows in 2026. To translate, what they are actually saying is “A 56 hour work week is healthier than a 42!” Now, I’m no mathematician but I’m pretty sure your family would disagree. The fictional badge of honour of letting a city or county dictate when you go home to your loved ones is both distorted and indicative of a lack of courage to fight for them.
What is most dangerous is that the young firefighters are revering these critics. “He’s salty!” No, he’s struggling and this is his way of masking his true emotions. I say this with sincere compassion. They say “Firefighters hate two things: The way things are and change.” and an inability to critically think is directly correlated with a busy mind. It’s no surprise that a profession so overworked and sleep deprived has such resistance to innovative thinking. The danger, however, is that we continue to keep doing it the way we’ve always done it. The way that has created a national recruitment and retention crisis. The way that’s resulted in hundreds of firefighter deaths from suicide to cancer. The way that none of our retirees are either counted or cared for, and if those deaths were counted, premature job related deaths would be in the thousands.
I see the phrase “It’s for them!” touted a lot and I agree. Our performance should be paramount but those are empty words in a profession that works 56 hours a week, 80+ with mandatory overtime. No superbowl or Stanley Cup has been won by sleep deprived players. Whilst our professional athletes and special operators have a team of psychologists, physical therapists and sleep experts surrounding them, our firefighters are running on fumes. If we really cared about “Them”, we would be fighting for an environment that drives performance: The 24/72, 42 hour work week that allows recovery after every shift. Fitness standards that forge both athleticism and longevity. Unlimited access to mental health tools to address stressors both in and outside of the job.
But none of this will happen if we do nothing but criticize. As they say, if you want to change the world, start at home, so take an honest look in the mirror. Our firefighters deserve to have a healthy career and a long retirement. The men and women who toe the line in the academy are arguably some of the fittest and most resilient of their communities. For them to die within five years of retirement or not even make it there just illustrates that something is broken. The job is a noble calling that I adore to this day. How our firefighters are worked is what needs to change and only the courageous will forge a healthier profession for the next generation. The recruitment and retention statistics are irrefutable. When we fix what is broken, young men and women will line up in the thousands to become firefighters once more, just like they did when I began this incredible career.
The power is in our hands, be a voice of change not criticism.