Printing isn't classed as one of the world's most dangerous occupations, and unlike those working in, say, bomb disposal, or the Chinese mining industry, there's every reason to expect print workers will return home safe and sound after a shift.

Anyone in the trade who can remember how things used to be 20-odd years ago, with unguarded machines and working practices virtually guaranteed to result in the loss of a digit or two will know how far things have moved on.

So when something does go badly wrong it's all the more horribly shocking. The death of maintenance engineer Ian Ebbs, asphyxiated after becoming crushed in part of a Lithoman web at St Ives Peterborough, was first and foremost a tragedy for his family. And I can hardly begin to imagine the impact of such an awful event on his co-workers.

At the inquest last month his death was ruled as accidental, but St Ives came in for some criticism about its health and safety practices. I was really surprised about that, people I know who work or have worked at the company have been wholly positive about its H&S stance and approach to any required investment in this area.

Something that emerged during the inquiry was that another worker had had a near-miss with the same piece of kit, but hadn't reported it. Why on earth not, I wonder? This got me thinking about the nature of near-miss reporting. How many of us will willingly hold our hands up to making a potentially stupid mistake? "Dear insurance company, I nearly crashed the car today." "Dear logistics manager, I just reversed the forklift incorrectly, but I got away with it this time..."

It requires a completely different culture - something they have in the airline industry, but I can't think of many others - for that level of honesty and transparency about near-misses to be the norm.

I imagine that many a print boss reading about the Ebbs case will have thought "there but for the grace of God go I."