How to Successfully Fail Your Own Public Health Inspection

A closeup of a young woman looking at her own reflection in a broken mirror with the words, How to Successfully Fail Your Own Public Health Inspection

The public health inspector arrives just as breakfast service hits full stride. Down at the gangway, security radios the Bridge while the Hotel Director strides out to greet him. Phones ring, supervisors dash to alert their teams, and a quiet tension spreads onboard faster than a norovirus outbreak. Crew straighten their uniforms, a few discreetly stash equipment in an unmarked cabin, and a Galley Steward suddenly remembers the handwashing station that’s been “awaiting maintenance” since last Thursday.

It’s showtime.

Now imagine, for a moment, that the inspector is you. Not the executive behind the desk trying to keep his head above the waterline, but walking deck to deck, peering behind bulkheads, asking for records, and witnessing the art of last-minute fixes and creative problem-solving.

What would you see? Or perhaps the better question is: what would you be willing to see?

Table of Contents

The Mirror of Inspection

Norman Vincent Peale, an American pastor who championed positive thinking, said it best: “The trouble with most of us is that we would rather be ruined by praise than saved by criticism.”

From an inspection perspective, this rings painfully true.

Clean decks, neatly stacked linens, and a welcome espresso at the atrium bar may earn nods of approval, but the real story lies in the small inconsistencies: the suspiciously uniform records, half-empty undercounter fridges, and crew members who can recite how many points a particular violation costs, yet hesitate when asked why the regulation matters.

This is where the “inspection theatre” begins. Where compliance turns into choreography. The crew know the steps, the inspector knows the script, and everyone hopes the final act ends with that magical number: the ‘100’.

It’s human nature to crave praise. Compliments reassure us that we’re competent, that our work is valued, and that the ship is running smoothly. But this desire for approval has a hidden danger: it can blind companies to real shortcomings. When everyone is focused on what looks good rather than what actually works, gaps and risks quietly grow.

Criticism, by contrast, exposes weaknesses. Inspections—whether internal or external—function as a mirror, revealing inefficiencies, overlooked hazards, and systemic weaknesses that might otherwise go unnoticed. A tidy coldroom may impress at first glance, but if the food isn’t rotated correctly or kept at the required temperature, the facade of readiness becomes dangerously misleading.

Facing this feedback is rarely comfortable, but it’s exactly what allows cruise lines to address problems before they escalate. The companies willing to face these findings honestly, gain the opportunity to correct underlying issues rather than merely polish appearances.

Most inspectors can tell when corrective actions represent genuine solutions versus cosmetic compliance. It’s a kind of organizational body language. One that can’t be faked with a polished logbook.

Seeing Beyond the Paper

From the boardroom, it’s easy to assume that a server full of procedures means your fleet is prepared. Policies exist, training schedules are full, and the database glows with signed acknowledgements. What could possibly go wrong?

Plenty. Systems can look watertight while culture quietly springs leaks.

If you swapped roles for a day and became a public health inspector, where would you start? Perhaps by matching records to reality. Do the galley cooling logs reflect what’s actually in the fridges? Do corrective actions marked “closed” months ago keep reappearing? Would a new crew member understand what’s required of them, or need a “translator” who’s been aboard for five contracts?

Research shows these scenarios are far more common than executives realize. Only a small fraction of corrective actions after a VSP inspection actually address root causes; the rest are superficial, like repairing equipment or “retraining” crew. The problem isn’t always missing procedures or insufficient knowledge: it’s often the gap between rules on paper and daily practice.

So for executives, the real question becomes: if you had to inspect your own ship tomorrow and publish the results online, how confident would you feel in what you’d see?

The View from Below

Walking the ship as an inspector, you start to see patterns invisible from the office. Logs may be neat, checklists complete, and SOPs perfectly formatted, but a closer look reveals that culture, leadership, and habits ultimately determine safety. At their heart, inspections reflect the health of daily operations.

Unannounced inspections especially reveal the gap between policy and reality because culture can’t rehearse for surprise. Even so, that’s not always true in the cruise industry, where ships transiting to North America for a few months know they can expect a visit from the CDC’s Vessel Sanitation Program—and plan their choreography accordingly.

However, high-performing vessels don’t scramble when inspections loom; they operate as if they could be inspected tomorrow. Senior officers ask daily: “Are we doing this correctly, or cutting corners?” Visible, engaged leadership reinforces this mentality.

Studies of High-Reliability Organizations (HROs)—complex, high-risk environments that consistently avoid catastrophic failures through cultural and operational principles—reveal that approachable leaders improve communication, uncover hidden risks, and empower teams to act before small problems mushroom.

Conversely, absent leadership between inspections can lead crew to revert to shortcuts or silence, eroding a company’s public health culture. Sending external public health consultants onboard to help prepare for an inspection has a similar effect. Crew begin to understand that public health is only important when there’s a score at stake.

Yet inspection day often reveals a different truth: systems can appear polished while behaviours quietly decay beneath them. In healthcare and aviation studies, this is called “drift to normalcy.” Over time, shortcuts that save effort become normalized. Records get filled because the form demands it, not because anyone learns from them. And when nothing goes wrong, silence is mistaken for safety.

Inspection as Insight

Several studies across maritime and healthcare settings have found that when leadership is visible, systems work better. The best signal to send is not perfection, but curiosity. This can be achieved by simply walking the decks and asking, “Show me how this really works.”

Embedding inspections into daily operations—through mini-spot checks, morning briefings, or senior officer safety walks—makes readiness routine rather than episodic. These consistent observations also leverage something known as the “Hawthorne effect”: performance is often improved when individuals know they’re being observed.

Experienced inspectors pick up on this immediately. They know when a crew member’s confidence comes from bona fide competence as opposed to rehearsed answers. They also know when follow-up actions are just cleverly documented stagecraft. One research team studying audit behaviour called it a “masquerade of improvement.” In other words, changes that comfort management but fail to reduce risk. It’s the audit equivalent of painting over rust.

Crew must trust leadership to use feedback constructively. In psychological safety research, teams that can discuss errors without fear of blame outperform those that hide them. This encourages early reporting and problem-solving, ensuring issues are addressed rather than covered up. Organizations with this mindset see compliance and discretionary effort rise, as crew step up to prevent problems before they appear on an audit report.

It is, however, important to avoid the trap of performative compliance. The goal isn’t just to pass an inspection; it’s to ensure operations meet the required standards that protect passengers and crew. Real safety demands daily attention, visible leadership, proactive learning, and honest, actionable feedback.

Inspection findings should generate clear action plans, with accountability tracked and verified to ensure the fixes are effective. Historical patterns of reissued violations often point to a failure to address the true root cause—or gaps in enforcement—not lack of effort.

Inspection-readiness is a window into overall performance. Cruise lines that embrace transparency, accountability, and continuous improvement operate smarter, safer, and with greater confidence.

For executives, that’s the true return on inspections: insight, not applause.

Looking in the Mirror

The title of this article may seem a touch disingenuous — we’re not literally advocating for failing a public health inspection. Rather, the point is that being honest about your flaws internally reduces findings externally because transparency signals control. If your internal inspections feel unusually quiet, that might be the problem: you’re just not hearing the truth.

Healthy systems make noise. They argue, they question, and yes, they occasionally roll their eyes at management memos. This shouldn’t be viewed as insubordination. As motivational speaker Simon Sinek remarked, “When people are emotionally invested, they want to contribute.” That means allowing your teams to challenge inconsistencies and occasionally disagree.

Step into an inspector’s shoes for a day, and you’ll notice more than a sanitation score. You’ll see the gap between procedure and practice, between compliance and culture. How one manager’s attitude can ripple through a department and how silence always travels faster than feedback.

A true inspection reflects not only hygiene standards, but the ability of an organization to be honest with itself.

Don’t wait for inspection day to look in the mirror. Carry it with you every day. Then, when that inspection arrives, you won’t need a rehearsal or last-minute sanitizer bucket changes. The inspector will already see what you know: that nothing needs hiding.