Imagine seeing someone inside a vehicle who looks frightened. Elsewhere, a person is trying to move away from someone behaving aggressively. In another situation, someone makes an unusual hand gesture or repeatedly looks at people nearby but says nothing.
What would we do?
We would watch for a while. We might assume the people involved know each other and are dealing with a private matter. Some of us might think that if the situation were serious, someone else would surely step in.
But what if we were wrong?
What looks like an ordinary argument may already be an emergency. Someone who remains silent may be terrified. A person trying to move away may be looking for an opportunity to escape. There are also situations in which a victim cannot openly say “help” because the person threatening them is standing right beside them.
This is where public awareness matters.
We are not asking people to become heroes. Approaching or attempting to restrain an aggressive person without appropriate training could put us in danger, too.
But protecting ourselves does not mean we should look away.
If someone is clearly asking for help, there is a physical threat, or the circumstances suggest that a person may be in danger, we can contact the authorities or call 999.
We may not know the whole story. We do not need to decide who is right or wrong. At that moment, the priority is much simpler: someone may be in danger and may need help.
Sometimes, minutes matter.
If approaching the situation is unsafe, keep your distance. Call for help. Give the authorities clear information about the location and what you can see.
You do not necessarily have to break up a fight or confront an aggressive person.
Sometimes, helping means being the person who makes the call.
And that call could save a life.
There have been international efforts to teach the public to recognise signs that someone may be in danger, particularly when a victim cannot openly ask for assistance.
One example is the Signal for Help, a hand gesture introduced as a discreet way to indicate that someone needs assistance. The broader idea of bystander intervention also teaches an important lesson: helping does not always mean directly confronting a potentially dangerous person.
The principle is straightforward: recognise the signs, protect yourself and get help.
Malaysia needs to talk more about this.
We teach people what to do when a building catches fire. We teach road safety. We learn basic responses to medical emergencies. Schools, universities and workplaces conduct emergency drills.
But how many of us have been taught to recognise when another human being may be asking for help?
Not every cry for help is a scream.
Someone may use a hand signal. Another person may repeatedly try to make eye contact. Someone may appear frightened, attempt to move away from another person, or behave in a way that suggests something is not right.
At other times, the signs are obvious. Someone may shout for help, appear to be under attack or try to escape.
We need to recognise both.
This should form part of what we might call public safety literacy. It is not enough to tell people to be caring. We should also equip them with the knowledge to recognise danger and respond safely.
Schools, universities, workplaces and community organisations can play a role. Public safety campaigns could teach Malaysians how to recognise common signs of distress, when to contact the authorities, what information to provide and, equally important, what not to do if intervention would place them in danger.
The more people understand these signs, the greater the chance that someone will notice when something is wrong.
There is another reason this matters.
Social psychology describes the bystander effect. In certain situations, the presence of others can make an individual less likely to act because everyone assumes someone else will do it.
One person looks at another. That person waits for someone else.
Eventually, everyone sees what is happening, but nobody gets help.
Yet we should be careful not to conclude that people do not care.
Some are afraid. Some are uncertain about what they are witnessing. Others worry that they have misunderstood the situation or that they will be accused of interfering in a private matter.
So the question is not simply: Why didn’t they help?
A better question might be: Have we adequately taught people how to recognise when someone needs help and what they can safely do about it?
There may also be situations involving someone experiencing an emotional or mental health crisis. This requires particular care. Having a mental health condition does not automatically make someone violent, and we should not reinforce that stigma.
However, when anyone’s behaviour creates an immediate risk of injury to themselves or others, assistance is needed. The person experiencing the crisis needs help, while those around them also need protection.
Empathy and safety do not have to compete.
In safety management, we do not wait for an accident before recognising a hazard. We look for warning signs, assess the risk and act before something more serious happens.
We should bring the same thinking into everyday life.
A cry for help is a warning sign. Fear on someone’s face can be a warning sign. An attempt to escape can be a warning sign. So can a silent gesture from someone who cannot openly ask for assistance.
We may never know the full story.
But we do not need to know everything before calling for help when someone may be in danger.
A caring society does not interfere in every private matter. It recognises when something may have crossed the line from a private matter into a safety concern.
So our conversations about becoming a caring society need to go one step further.
Do not merely tell people to care.
Teach them what to look for. Teach them how to respond. Teach them when to call for help.
For us, it may only be a phone call that takes a few minutes.
For someone in danger, the awareness of a stranger could be the reason help arrives in time.
Dr Khairul Hafezad Abdullah is a senior lecturer in Occupational Safety and Health Management at the School of Business Management, Universiti Utara Malaysia.
The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the writer and do not represent those of Twentytwo13.
