Let’s talk about DCS
Let’s talk about DCS, diver
It can affect anyone, but is no worse than other sports injuries
Decompression sickness (DCS) is rare, but it elicits a very different reaction than many comparable sports injuries. A sprained ankle is considered a normal risk, but DCS is shrouded in mystery and a sense of “you asked for it.” This perspective doesn’t help anyone. By demystifying DCS, we gain on two levels: First, research finally gets the many previously unacknowledged data on mild symptoms, which may allow us to better deduce which profiles are truly low-risk. Second, we can individually talk more openly about small warning signs, learn from supposed “bad luck,” and dive more safely in the future—without unspoken accusations hanging in the air.
In the following, we’ll examine three typical thinking traps—denial, stigma, and hindsight bias—and consider how we can contain them as much as possible.
And then we’ll collect your stories: Have you ever had DCS? Then write to us! We will publish what we learn from it later here on the page – completely anonymized, of course.
What makes talking about DCS so difficult
Denial – “Not me!”
Denial describes the tendency to downplay or completely ignore the initial signs of possible decompression sickness – such as tingling skin, unusual fatigue, or the vague feeling that “something is not quite right” – in order to avoid interrupting the day and burdening others. However, even seemingly minor signs can escalate: What is barely noticeable now can significantly intensify over the next hour. Anyone who speaks up early when something doesn’t feel right gives those around them a valuable head start. Oxygen can be provided, the buddy involved, and medical advice organized before a quiet question mark turns into an exclamation mark. Sharing what feels unusual is neither panicky nor dramatic – it is a pragmatic step that helps everyone gain significant insights from minor incidents.
Stigma – When shame prevents you from talking
Stigma is the invisible brand that is attached to an experience, charging it with inherent guilt and shame. This is exactly what often happens when divers talk about DCS: As soon as the word is uttered, the fault-finding begins – was the ascent too hasty, did they drink too little, is there perhaps an unrecognized PFO behind it? These reflexes reassure the listeners because they believe themselves to be safe, but put those affected on the defensive. If we instead acknowledge that bad luck also plays a role and share minor symptoms without the pressure to justify them, the conversation becomes easier and everyone can learn from the experience.
Hindsight bias – you’re always smarter afterwards
Hindsight bias describes the tendency to interpret events retrospectively as “predictable” as soon as their outcome is known. In diving, it looks like this: Tiny deviations – a few meters deeper than planned, ignoring the computer’s safety level, an unusually long surface – go smoothly over countless dives. However, once symptoms occur, the same little things suddenly seem like the only logical explanation. This tempts us to pin down causes prematurely and ignore the fact that a good deal of chance plays a role in diving. It is more helpful after an incident to first collect what is really certain, to leave questions unanswered and to accept that not every piece of the puzzle was visible from the beginning. This leaves room to learn from the overall picture instead of blowing up individual details into big mistakes afterwards.
A practical, open approach to DCS
If you consistently take symptoms seriously, you have usually already taken the most important step. This starts with the willingness to accept tiredness, itching or diffuse aching joints as potential warning signs. A ready-to-hand oxygen kit speeds up first aid; a structured debriefing after every dive ensures that no one is left alone with diffuse symptoms. A culture of error that describes processes instead of condemning people is crucial. If profiles, gases, depths and symptoms are documented anonymously and passed on to research teams or specialist forums, everyone benefits. For background knowledge on human factors, literature and workshops – such as The Human Diver – provide a solid basis for questioning beliefs and continuously improving your own practice.
And now?
Denial, stigma and hindsight bias are deeply human phenomena, but they do not have to jeopardize our safety. Recognizing and addressing them opens the space for honest conversations, faster help and informed learning from every incident. This not only makes diving safer, but also more relaxed: We are allowed to have limits and make mistakes – what matters is how openly we deal with them.
Talk about DCS
We are collecting your stories: Have you ever had DCS? What was your experience like? Did you receive oxygen, was the insurance hotline involved? How did you feel afterwards?
You can help us collect data with the questionnaire if you have ever had DCS.
