SAFETY SUNDAY — JANUARY 2026

The first Safety Sunday of a new year always feels different. Quieter. Heavier. More honest.

Because whatever we didn’t fix last year followed us into this one.

2026 didn’t reset the scoreboard. It didn’t erase bad habits. It didn’t magically turn weak leadership into strong leadership or sloppy thinking into discipline.

All it did was hand us another year in the arena.

And here’s the truth most people won’t say out loud…

If we keep doing safety the same way, 2026 will take the same names 2025 did.

I’m done pretending safety is a program.

Programs end. Posters fade. Slogans get recycled.

The work doesn’t.

Safety is what shows up when nobody’s watching. It’s what you say when the plan is wrong and the pressure is high. It’s whether you’re willing to be uncomfortable now instead of attending a funeral later.

And that choice is made long before the job starts.

Somewhere along the way, we let safety drift away from the field and into conference rooms.

We turned it into metrics, optics, and talking points. We rewarded quiet compliance instead of hard questions. We taught people how to pass audits instead of how to survive work.

And then we act surprised when experience gets overridden by urgency… when apprentices don’t speak up… when journeymen stop fighting bad calls… when near misses get buried because they’re “bad for morale.”

That’s not safety.

That’s silence dressed up as progress.

Here’s the line I’m drawing to start 2026…

If safety only exists when it’s convenient, it doesn’t exist at all.

If a man or woman can’t stop work without fear of retaliation, your culture is broken. If production pressure always wins, your priorities are exposed. If leadership never feels discomfort, it’s being absorbed by the field.

And the field always pays first.

This year, I’m not interested in perfect language or polished delivery.

I care about focused minds. Clear boundaries. Honest conversations. Plans that respect physics instead of challenging it.

I care about whether the newest hand on the crew feels protected enough to speak… and whether the most seasoned hand feels respected enough to be heard.

Because safety doesn’t fail all at once...

It fails in inches. In assumptions. In shortcuts nobody thought would matter...

Until they do.

2026 is going to demand more of us.

More discipline. More accountability. More backbone.

Not from policies… from people.

From leaders who are willing to slow things down. From crews willing to challenge each other. From individuals willing to bet on doing the right thing even when it costs time, money, or comfort.

That’s the standard.

Not zero incidents on a slide deck. Not applause in a meeting.

Everyone goes home. Every time.

So this is how I’m starting the year…

With intention. With clarity. With no patience for bullshit that puts lives at risk.

Say what needs to be said. Fix what needs to be fixed. Protect what matters.

The work will always be dangerous. The way we do it doesn’t have to be careless.

2026 is here...

Let’s earn it.

~ Kevin | Lineman Bull$hit™

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