Perspectives: My First Job; My Last Assumption

Some may say I’m getting old, and my body certainly feels it. Some say that because of my age, I don’t see things the way younger generations do, and in some ways that’s true. But let me tell you a story that holds as true today as it did in 1988.

I was a newly certified Level II ultrasonic testing (UT) technician, qualified in shear wave inspection, heading out to my first job on my own. I’d worked alongside other Level II technicians for a while and had generally done well, but this was my first time going it alone. I had my old Krautkramer USM-2, various calibration blocks and wedges, and an old trusty gallon milk jug with a hole cut in the top to hold my couplant. I was ready.

The job looked easy: inspect some beam connections. I’d done that a few times, so no problem there. When I arrived, I had a 30-second conversation with the project manager, who told me where the connections were, and I went on my way. I spent the entire day scooting along beams 20 or 30 floors up with no safety harness. Ironworkers were literally stepping over me to get by, but my butt was not coming off those beams.

I finished the inspections at about 4:00 in the afternoon and was heading down to write my report when I bumped into the client. He asked about the results. Cockily, I told him they weren’t very good. The conversation went like this:

Client: How’d it go?

Me: Not great. I did 152 connections, and 150 of them are bad.

Client: Let me guess—

(When someone says “let me guess,” they generally know more than you do.)

Me: Go ahead, but I think you need some new welders.

Client: (He described a condition that was supposed to be in the welds, which I didn’t know about.) So, there are two bad welds and 150 good ones. I don’t need new welders. I need a new UT hand. Pack up your stuff and get off my job, and tell your company I never want to see you on one of my jobs again.

So, with my tail between my legs, I packed up and left. I’ve never felt so embarrassed in my professional career. On my very first job, my hubris made me act as if I knew everything there was to know about UT and as if my client couldn’t possibly tell me anything valuable. How in the heck was I supposed to know the connections had a built-in condition? It wasn’t fair. It’s been nearly 40 years since that day, and I probably still couldn’t show up on one of his jobs.

But I learned something valuable that day that I’ve taken with me on every assignment since: always, and I mean always, have at least a two-minute conversation with the client about expectations, realities, and what you’re about to inspect. That conversation does several things:

1. It gets everyone on the same page.

2. It alerts the technician to potential stumbling blocks.

3. It helps the client and the technician build a working relationship.

4. It builds trust between the client and the technician.

5. Most importantly, it tells the technician what to inspect and how to inspect it.

So here’s the moral of the story, from an old guy’s perspective. Always present yourself as a professional—and if you’re getting paid for these inspections, you are one. Give your client and yourself a few minutes to talk through what they want you to do, how you’ll do the work, and the limitations of the method and technique you’re using.

I’ve been lucky in my career. I’ve cared about what I do for a living and who I do it for, and I’ve stayed curious about nondestructive evaluation (NDE) and the physics behind our industry. I’ve taken advantage of opportunities and given opportunities to others, but that only happened because of that one day in 1988 that taught me my first lesson: be humble and inquisitive.

I truly hope you’ll have the kind of career I’ve had. Your future is yours to make, and you’ll make some mistakes along the way. When you do, raise one hand, point to yourself with the other, and say, “Yep, that was me. Let me fix it.” Learn from the experience and apply the lesson to your work. Most people will let you fix a mistake if you take responsibility for it and learn from it.

About the Author

Dwight Witter is President of ND3 LLC and AccessRULES LLC. He has more than 40 years of experience in learning and teaching NDE and industrial rope access. Later in his career, he has made giving back his top priority, teaching, mentoring, and sharing experiences with the industry he has enjoyed for so long.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official position of ASNT. Articles in this series have not been peer-reviewed and are published for informational and professional development purposes only. Accuracy of technical content is the responsibility of the author.

About Perspectives

Perspectives is a digital series from Materials Evaluation featuring first-person insights from NDT practitioners, engineers, and specialists across the field. Articles in this series reflect the views of the author and have not been peer-reviewed. To submit a piece for consideration, contact the editorial team.