I’ve spent a fair amount of time on this page making fun of trophies, specifically, the ones that I’ve been flattered to receive over the years. I mean no disrespect, because it’s always nice to be recognized for something other than showing up. I was genuinely flattered for instance, when the Independent Women’s Forum selected me as “A Distinguished Gentleman,” and sent me a crystal vase with a nice inscription. I was likewise flattered by trophies from The Barbershop Harmony Society, Character.com, and whatever organization sent me a “Streamy,” (which I can only assume I earned for possessing such a powerful stream?) However, the business of accepting a trophy in person at an actual ceremony, followed by the decision to put that trophy on some kind of permanent display is worth lampooning. Which is precisely why I keep my most coveted trophies in my home studio, where millions of people can see them whenever I appear on TV. Including an Emmy Award, which I received for hosting Returning the Favor.
In my defense, I keep my Emmy in the shot because Returning the Favor was cancelled shortly after I received it. Thus, my Emmy has become a constant reminder that trophies are not always correlated with success, a point I 
often make when questioned about its prominent placement. (I also like to discuss the fine print on the bottom of the Emmy, which the Academy has asked me not to do.)
Another favorite trophy was given to me by the producers of the Tuttle Twins, who wished to thank me for singing a song on their highest rated episode. Unlike my Emmy, this trophy is light as a feather and constructed of the cheapest possible plastic. It’s a “4th Place Trophy,” that arrived in the regular mail. The plaque, hastily glued to the front reads, “You Worked on a Cartoon.” It really doesn’t get much better than that, unless you consider the accolade given to me last month at the Library of Congress, which I now bring shamelessly to your attention.
This handsome and weighty granite slab was presented to me by the fine folks at the International Safety Equipment Association, who wanted to acknowledge my efforts to improve occupational safety with a campaign I launched years ago called “Safety Third.” This time, I didn’t hesitate. I flew to DC to accept my trophy in person, and to thank those assembled 
for celebrating the exact same message I was very nearly fired for back in 2010.
Allow me to explain.
“Safety Third” began as a one-hour Dirty Jobs special. During the course of this special, I looked back at the most hazardous moments on Dirty Jobs and concluded that the whole “Safety First” message was fundamentally dishonest. Obviously, safety is always important, but it’s never really first. If it were, boats would never leave the harbor, cars would never leave the driveway, planes would never leave the tarmac, and workers would never show up to work. The risk of doing so is simply impossible to eliminate, and to pretend otherwise is an insult to customers and workers. I also suggested in Safety Third, that mandatory safety briefings, compulsory protocols, and all the other dogma associate with “safety first” would – over time – foster a sense of complacency in the minds of most workers. The kind of complacency that occurs when individuals start to believe that someone cares more about their well-being than they do. The kind of complacency that gets people killed.
I knew the “Safety Third” special would ruffle a few feathers, but I didn’t realize those feathers were attached to some very powerful birds. Shortly after the special aired, OSHA contacted my boss at the network and demanded my immediate termination. So did somebody at the EPA. So did safety professionals from dozens of big corporations who found my take on occupational safety to be irreverent, subversive, and irresponsible. Several corporations who advertised on Dirty Jobs demanded a public apology, as did a number of CEO’s that I was in business with at the time.
Oops.
Well, I didn’t get fired and I didn’t apologize. But I did spend the next few years clarifying my position at every turn. I spoke publicly about the importance of being honest about the nature of risk, and the impossibility of eliminating it. I talked about unintended consequences, the very real phenomenon of compensatory risk, and the role of homeostasis in so many failed safety programs. I criticized companies that virtue signaled by bragging about their commitment to safety, especially those who claimed to value safety above everything else. Mostly, I tried to stress the simple fact that being “in compliance” has very little to do with being “out of danger.”
It took a while, but eventually, many of my detractors came to see the irreplaceable role of personal responsibility in any occupational safety program. I was asked to write editorials for several Safety publications and invited to speak at numerous safety conferences sponsored by NASA, US Steel, and several large railroads. But I never expected to find myself in the Library of Congress, accepting a trophy from a leading safety organization, and being congratulated for saving lives with a simple message of personal responsibility called Safety Third. The exact same message that nearly got me canceled 15 years ago.
Which is why I think my newest trophy is going to look pretty swell, right there in front of my Emmy.