Split Seconds: Why Complacency On the Road and at Work Keeps Catching People Off Guard

There are moments that snap you out of autopilot, and they usually happen fast. The other day I was sitting at a light, second in line, waiting to turn onto a major highway. This is an intersection I know a little too well. Over the past five to ten years there have been some brutal crashes there, including fatalities. So I’ve made a habit of always looking left and right before I pull onto that road, even with a green light.

Good thing I did.

The light turned green. The Jeep in front of me, a lifted Wrangler with 35s, rolled into the intersection to turn left. Before it even cleared the lane, a Toyota Matrix came flying down the highway doing at least 100 in an 80 zone and smashed into the side of the Jeep. The front end of that Matrix disintegrated. The sound was unreal, like a bomb went off.

I was just about to roll forward, but my habit kicked in. I looked both ways, saw movement in my peripheral vision and hit the brakes immediately. Split second. If someone had been tailgating me, we might have had a second collision.

Once everything stopped, I went into first aid mode. Vehicle in park, traffic check, then I stepped into the intersection. The Jeep had spun almost 180 degrees. The Matrix was crushed beyond repair. I walked up to the driver’s side window not knowing what I’d find.

She was screaming, which meant breathing, conscious and responsive. That’s a win in that situation. I opened the door, calmed her down, checked her wrist (her main complaint) and made sure someone was calling 911. And through all of it, I kept checking the traffic because one of the most dangerous places to help someone is in the middle of a live intersection.

Where Complacency Really Starts

This crash wasn’t the Jeep driver’s fault. Someone blew a red light at highway speeds. But as safety people, we’re wired to ask the uncomfortable question: how do we reduce the chances of this happening again?

And that’s where complacency comes in.

We talk about complacency like it’s only about distraction or habit, but it’s also about capacity. Your ability to react. Your physical and mental sharpness. Your readiness in those split seconds that matter.

If you’re tired, stressed, dehydrated, burned out or just mentally done, you’re slower. You miss cues. You assume things are safe when they’re not. And when you’re dealing with vehicles, high-energy equipment, heavy machinery or unpredictable environments, those tiny lapses can change everything.

Yet we constantly take our own wellbeing for granted.

We expect our body to perform even if we slept four hours.
We expect our brain to stay sharp even when we’re overwhelmed.
We expect our reaction time to save us because it always has.

But nothing about a hazard cares how tough you think you are.

Why Being at Your Best Actually Matters

When I think back to my logging days—both conventional and helicopter logging—this lands differently. I watched injuries happen constantly. Not once a year. Constantly. Friends, coworkers, guys from other crews. I ended up doing first aid more than I ever wanted to.

Fatigue. Stress. Poor sleep. Mental overload. They weren’t always the root cause, but they were almost always part of the picture.

And the camp life didn’t help. After work, everyone wanted to unwind. Drinks, late nights, card games, socializing. All good things in moderation, but I knew my limits. I didn’t want to walk into the bush at 70 percent. I didn’t even want to walk in at 90.

While the camp was up late, I was usually working out, eating, hydrating or sleeping. Not because I was trying to be some ultra-disciplined machine, but because the environment demanded it. Logging is unforgiving. A single bad decision can change your life or someone else’s.

The older I get, the clearer it is how much your personal wellbeing ties into your safety. Fitness, sleep, nutrition, mental health—everything affects your decision-making, your awareness and your reflexes in those split seconds where it counts.

We train people endlessly on hazards and controls, but we almost never ask the simplest question in an investigation:

Was the person at their best in that moment?

Most of the time, the answer is no.

The Real Takeaway

Split seconds matter.

On the road.
On the job.
In life.

You can’t predict every hazard, but you can control how prepared you are when they show up. That’s not paranoia. That’s just smart risk management.

Look both ways at every green light.
Check your blind spots even if the lane “should” be empty.
Prioritize sleep.
Eat real food.
Move your body.
Manage your stress before it manages you.

People don’t get hurt because they’re weak.
They get hurt because they’re human.
And humans overlook the simple things far too easily.

Moments like the one at that intersection are reminders. We don’t get warnings before something goes wrong. That’s why we build habits. That’s why we stay sharp. That’s why it matters to take care of yourself long before you ever step into a high-risk environment.

Call to Action:
If your team works around vehicles, machinery or high-risk tasks, your margin for error is small. Split seconds matter. If you want support building stronger habits, sharper awareness and better safety systems, reach out. I work with organizations across Vancouver Island to help their people show up at their best.