When zero harm feels wrong...

A while ago, my wife and I took my son to ride his bike at the Onepoto Domain in Auckland. We had been caged inside by the rain for a few days, so he enjoyed being out and was having a jolly old time. Then he stopped on top of a small rise, about to go down into a fairly sharp bend for a 3-year-old. I considered warning him about the corner, but he would just ignore my 'nagging' and go faster to prove a point, so I kept my mouth shut.

Next thing you know, he went off the track and came off his bike into a muddy puddle. My wife immediately accused me of reckless endangerment, reprimanding me for the lack of preventative controls. I tried to explain that it was a lesson he had to learn through his own experience, but I only got to 'I thought he might fall off, but...' before she cried 'you knew this would happen, so you hurt our son on purpose!'

These days, there are two things constantly on my mind. One is my son, the other is my business (a workplace safety app called SafetyPin). Experiences in these two areas often intermingle to create new ideas and thoughts. Reflecting on this incident, I had the following thoughts:

1. Is it reasonable to have different views on reasonably foreseeable risks? According to the law, companies must 'identify hazards that could give rise to reasonably foreseeable risks'. Since my wife was also behind the 'victim' as he raced off downhill, she could have prevented this death-defying stunt, but she didn't. Her reason for not stopping my son is that she thought he could make that corner. In other words, she did NOT foresee the risk because she rated my son's riding ability higher than I did - and I don't think that's a bad thing.
2. How easy is it for people to learn from mistakes when safety is involved? I had two reasons for not warning/stopping my son; first was about letting him learn from his mistakes. This is not a controversial idea normally, except when the mistake leads to perceived safety concerns, then it's no longer a sensible parenting style. Even after I told her about the quick risk assessment I did in my head (low-speed crash into a muddy puddle with a helmet = band-aid + change of clothes), she was still concerned about my 'willingness to intentionally hurt her baby'.
3. Can safety warnings be counterproductive? The second reason for not warning my son about the risk is because I thought he would just ignore my words. At that time, my view was just based on my personal observation. But after some research, I found a few safety practitioners who are also skeptical of excessive warnings and see alarm fatigue as a threat to safety.

So what does it all mean? It would be foolish for me to make generalized statements about workplace safety based on this one incident with my son. Nevertheless, these questions have been interesting for me to reflect on, and challenge some of the standard safety concepts that I've been exposed to. As a dad, 'zero harm' for my son not only seems like an unachievable goal, it just feels...wrong.