We Need to Strengthen Our Communicative Immune System

Safe communication means communicating in such a way that we all end up with the same understanding. Because successful communication is, in essence, an “interpersonal safety process.” Only when we attain shared understanding can we prevent avoidable harm that often results from unresolved misunderstandings.

This process relies on five scientifically validated core competencies:

In high-risk situations, a misunderstanding can have serious – even fatal – consequences. Research shows that in such contexts, up to 80% of avoidable harm can be traced back to failed communication. This means the priority must be: "We truly mean the same thing."

One case we studied involved a pediatric patient whose condition deteriorated post-surgery. The attending doctor recognized the problem but approached her stressed and irritable colleague cautiously, using a friendly tone to preserve their working relationship. The colleague failed to grasp the urgency. By the time he checked on the child the next day, it was too late.

In moments like these, safe communication acts as a safeguard, ensuring shared understanding – even if it means temporarily setting aside other goals such as preserving harmony in a relationship.

I wish I could say yes – but the opposite seems true. After the pandemic, the desire to move on outweighed the willingness to learn from the experience. Communication safety remained underestimated in many places.

The pandemic left deep communicative wounds – broken trust, increased polarization, and language barriers between groups. Many of these fractures have never been addressed. Without strengthening our "communicative immune system" now, the next crisis – be it another pandemic or something else – could hit us even harder.

The core problem is that public communication is often reduced to transmitting information, especially in crises. Its relational dimension – making people feel connected, seen, and respected – is neglected. During COVID-19, people didn't just feel poorly informed; they often felt abandoned or pitted against each other. Such relational wounds don't heal on their own.

We need a form of communicative reconstruction: prevention, training, and everyday communication skills that strengthen resilience long before the next crisis. This applies not only to pandemics but also to challenges like societal polarization, disinformation, and digital echo chambers. The conflicts of the future won't follow national borders – they'll cut across our societies, fueled by emotionally charged communication aimed at provocation and division rather than shared understanding.

Being unprepared for this makes us vulnerable – not just militarily, but also societally and psychologically – through loss of trust, division, and escalation.

Conspiracy theories are not new – they've existed since the beginning of time. What's new is their speed, reach, and emotional punch in the digital space. Their underlying patterns remain the same: compelling storytelling that captures us emotionally and overrides rational thought.

From a communication science perspective, understanding the neurological impact of storytelling is key. Conspiracy theories are not merely an information problem; they are a relationship and trust problem. People who don't feel heard or respected are more receptive to simple explanations that promise belonging, stir emotions, and bypass critical thinking.

In safe communication, we view conspiracy theories as symptoms of failed understanding. And we must admit: while official institutions often stick to facts and fact-checking, conspiracy theorists operate effectively on the relationship level – and they do so more persuasively.

If we want to reach people on safety-related issues, providing correct information isn't enough. We need to connect with them: build trust, take uncertainty seriously, and listen actively. This is where safe communication fosters societal resilience.

First, we must define what we mean by "harm." In healthcare, focusing only on the patient's physical harm overlooks emotional consequences, also for the healthcare staff – guilt, shame, burnout – and the toxic cultures that sometimes prioritize reputation over real accountability.

Similarly, conspiracy theories are not automatically harmful. Many serve social functions – entertainment, identity, belonging. They become dangerous only when they deliberately erode trust, discourage medical treatment, or create hostile stereotypes.

So the question isn't whether we communicate, but how. Does our communication heal, build trust, and strengthen relationships? Or does it exploit others, even at the cost of harm? The danger lies not in the label "conspiracy theory" or "communication problem", but in the quality of the communication itself.

For me, the balance lies in preserving scientific integrity – conducting science that is methodically sound and rigorous – while not staying silent when I see knowledge going unused. Ideally, there should be no divide between science and society; instead, there should be a safe space for true exchange.

The real barrier is that science often fails to communicate societal relevance effectively, and so society misses out on its benefits. Climate change is a prime example: we have the data, but not the implementation. The same is true in patient safety – the evidence exists, the problems are clear, yet change is slow.

My focus is therefore on applied, practical research. It may not win the most academic prestige, but it's what matters most to me – because it affects not just my work as a scholar, but my life as a person.

EISCOM was born from exactly this need. It is an independent, non-university, non-profit institute, free from economic or political conflicts of interest – a neutral meeting space for science, society, and politics. It's a place to translate evidence-based solutions into practice where they're most needed: in safety-critical environments.

EISCOM works across several high-risk sectors – healthcare, emergency services, aviation, energy, and communication in global crises – with the goal of embedding safe communication as a central safety factor and strengthening its practical application.

Rather than predicting every possible crisis, we focus on what they have in common: a communicative state of urgency. In such moments, communication itself becomes a safety factor.

That's why we emphasize core communication skills that apply in any crisis – seeing communication not as mere information transfer, but as an interpersonal safety mechanism. If people can communicate clearly, accurately, and supportively even under stress, they can act together – regardless of the crisis.

Safe communication is therefore not situational, but a matter of preparation – a skill that can be learned, and one that determines whether societies will fracture or stand together when it counts.

Our mission at EISCOM is to strengthen these skills systematically – in organizations, politics, and public discourse. To sum it up: Communication always has an impact. The question is whether it strengthens or weakens us.