
Telling stories about work
On the question of what gets people out of bed in the morning: I've just seen The Hurt Locker, a film by the strange and fabulous Kathryn Bigelow, about a US Army bomb decommissioning unit in Iraq. The main character is the 'bomb tech', a madman who single-handedly defuses huge bombs in highly volatile situations. Based on a true story, the film shows us how messy, exhausting and random war is (obviously), but also how people keep - or lose - their motivation. The tehcnician's wing man, by the end of the film, realises that war is no longer for him; that the fear, danger, confusion and pain by now outweigh whatever sense of purpose and duty he might once have had. But the bomb tech himself, against his own better judgement and in the very certain knowledge that the dice will eventually roll against him, goes back for more. Because it's what he does, and what he loves - the rush of cheating death, the pleasure of encountering a clever detonating device (he recognises the artistry in the enemy's handiwork, even as he knows it might kill him), the excitement of successfully completing a job ('That was good', he says, as he lights up at the end one scene).
The man is obviously an adrenalin junky and a dangerous person to be around, because he'll do whatever it takes to carry out his job, and the job is deadly. But I couldn't help envying his total focus and his pride in doing something so vital to the wellbeing of others. (In one scene, a senior officer, impressed with his skill, asks him how many bombs he's defused. At first he modestly brushes the question off, but the officer understands this kind of guy and presses him for an answer. '873' he admits - he's counted each and every one.) He knows what will get him out of bed in the morning, no question about it.
There's also something impressive about the storytelling, the filmmaker's craft. The bomb tech's story is told without for a moment glorifying what he does, or making him a hero. You neither like him nor hate him - he's kind of cool, but also a bit out there - but you certainly understand what drives him, and you care about what happens. The film never asks you to take sides; it avoids all the cheap tricks which normally pull an audience in but make you feel a little tainted afterwards. It's cool, detached but intensely curious and has a deep humanity. This man's job matters - to him, and actually to everyone.
Good storytelling uncovers experiences like these, brings them to the surface and allows us to observe, explore and consider; then it challenges us to match these stories with some of our own.



