We have all witnessed a glowing example of someone exercising their self-appointed sense of entitlement. That driver of a high-end vehicle that cuts into traffic or drives aggressively at an excessive speed. A shopper that cuts into line ahead of others exuding an air of importance. One of my favourites is the person speaking in a loud voice during a transaction announcing their relationship to someone they know or are related to that they assume listeners recognize.
Sometimes, it’s for recognition, consideration, or financial benefit to enhance the outcome of their transaction. The use of this ploy annoys me to my core. I am guilty of being a “loud talker,” just ask my wife or close friends. Rest assured, the behaviour is a curse and not intended to induce some compensation. The condition flows between failing hearing from siren noise floating in the driver’s window for decades and what family refers to as “liking the sound of my own voice.”
As public servants know all too well, some of our clients and people we encounter employ this technique far too often. Hidden in some of these incidents, there may be a message identifying a more significant problem at hand. During an emergency, some folks struggle to describe or express themselves. They revert to the defensive strategy that comes across as a sense of entitlement through frustration or distress, which should alarm their audience.
That’s where professionalism and situational awareness must cut in. It gets easier to interpret with some road time under your belt, regardless of the agency you represent. Public servants become very polished in reading a situation and the personality they are addressing. Once you identify the ploy, you are left with a decision.
Faced with this predicament during your off-duty time, you can smile and think to yourself, wow, you have some nerve (substitute with your favourite assessment). It’s not worth sticking your neck out and joining the socially ridiculous spot where someone has placed themselves. There is an immediate need to determine if you are missing the real problem buried behind the confrontation when you are working. Someone may be screaming for help, the cry lodged in a terse statement.
Ask yourself: is there a question I should be asking? Is there a symptom or sign I am missing? The pause and second look may just be what the patient or person needs to help them, or you validate the situation. Early on, you might not handle the problem this way. Today that’s why you are present; you are the professional.
Now step back. You did not become a public servant to become someones whipping post. You are there to serve. If the circumstance requires care, intervention or other assistance, the time is now to take control and offer that help. When it becomes apparent that the other person’s approach is over the top, it’s time to change modes. There must be a limit to your generosity.
It may be time to de-escalate or diffuse the situation. That plan should include a polished verbal response offering alternatives to the person. At the other end of the spectrum, your coworker may step in to reinforce the action. You might even be best calling for help from police if they are not already on the scene. Your instinct may have signalled you earlier to do just that.
If you think I am speaking only to first responders here, I am not. These ideas and experiences may have already pressed you into service as a citizen at large to handle a case of someone’s misguided power trip without ever stepping into the shoes of a responder. Often, walking away will not have dire consequences. You won’t be held liable for any outcome.
The difference here is that a public servant is less able to walk away before resolving a problem. It’s their job; they are professionals. Called to a perceived or actual emergency, there are always aftereffects ranging from noteworthy to grave. Starting down either path will draw the attention or ire of the subject involved when they go home and think about it. Worse yet, lawyers love a good story after the fact, of course.
If you want to find yourself painted into the proverbial corner, just walk away with regrets that you did not do everything you could to resolve a problem. That includes patient care, leaving a reluctant patient behind, or a hazard that should have been addressed. And it all started with a case of attitude.
A little aside here. My favourite story illustrating entitlement from EMS days involved a hurried drive to a severe collision. Crews asked for a supervisor with reports of life-threatening injuries; some victims were trapped. On route, driving with the grace of lights and siren, a fancy sports car decided to pass me out of nowhere after passing through an intersection. I was already exercising the privilege of exceeding the speed limit after stopping briefly for the red light.
The car driver decided to shadow me through the intersection, sharing my authority or responsibility more correctly. Now positioned ahead of me, his lack of an emergency warning system afforded him less compliance from vehicles he was overtaking. What little space he encountered was likely due to hearing the approaching lights and siren from behind him.
Approaching the collision scene, congested traffic and the prudent choice not to enter the oncoming lane left the driver to join the others caught short of the accident. That was not before I got a look at his license plate and down into the driver’s window as I overtook my competitor.
A minute into the assessment of the situation through the ambulance crews attending the victims, a police officer I knew well commented on the traffic congestion. My response to his comment included the experience with the sportscar that complicated my response. Not assigned to investigate the accident, he asked me to point out the racer.
Visible just yards away now, I motioned at the driver, saying I would identify him in court and then recited his license plate number. Turning back to the business at hand, the ambulance crews and firefighters successfully released the victims’, treating and loading them for a quick trip to the ER.
As I waved the last crew clear of the scene, I turned to see my constable friend walking away from the departing silver sportscar. With a shake of his head, I knew there was a story. My price to hear the tale: name, age, date of birth and address for the subpoena.
Asked to justify his actions, the driver offered an earnest explanation of his responsibility as a physician, summoned to an emergency for one of his patients. Eagerly spitting out details, the officer must have looked like he was impressed with the importance of the driver’s plight. This was before cellular phones were commonplace. The cop had resources at hand that the good doctor could not fathom.
Calling his dispatcher, the details were relayed instantly and checked by phone to avoid delaying the treatment of a reported gravely ill patient. Bullshit. The person at the other end of the call was not part of the deception, game over. A ticket was written and issued in less time than it takes to roll up a length of a firehose. It was the ultimate karma sentenced to the fellow leveraging his education, privilege and implied entitlement.
It is an exception to see consequences come from someone’s power trip.