Dance of Destruction: A PAT testing adventure
9 September 2025
Once again, our Division has been blessed with the ritual known as Portable Appliance Testing (PAT). For those fortunate souls unfamiliar with this particular form of bureaucratic performance art, PAT testing involves the systematic unplugging, prodding, and general harassment of every electrical device in sight - all in the noble pursuit of safety that, curiously, lacks any actual legal mandate. But the University is, of course, hot on it, because if someone electrocutes themselves, the absence of a sticker demonstrates for sure a lack of due diligence.
The Art of Safety Theatre
One might wonder who orchestrates this elaborate production. The answer, dear readers, lies with our Health & Safety administrators, dedicated individuals who have discovered that wielding clipboards and demanding compliance certificates provides a delightful sense of authority over those pesky researchers who insist on doing actual science. Armed with the unwavering conviction that numbers on stickers must match numbers in databases, they have elevated the mundane task of checking plugs into something approaching religious ceremony.
The beauty of this system becomes even more apparent when one considers its global uniqueness. While our European colleagues somehow manage to conduct world-class research without PAT testing and, miraculously, no mass electrocution events, here there is a distinctly British approach to laboratory safety that prioritizes documentation over common sense.
A Walk Down Memory Lane
Many years ago at Nottingham University, we had internal technicians conducting this ritual. As they knew the facilites they would systematically dismantle every component, for example of our microscope systems, and enthusiastically adjust every available knob and dial, requiring the better part of a day to restore functionality. These days progress has marched onward. We have now outsourced this essential service to specialized companies, whose technicians bring the added advantage of being even less familiar with laboratory equipment than their predecessors. The logic is impeccable: why have someone who understands your instruments when you can pay more for someone who doesn't?
The Paradox of PAT
In my experience with this safety theater over the past 20 years, I've observed a fascinating pattern. The only items to actually fail PAT tests have been - and I cannot stress this irony enough - brand new electronic equipment, fresh from their packaging, causing a never-ending burden of trying to return these when the selling company very correctly argued: "But it is brand-new!" Meanwhile, the various devices that have genuinely failed during laboratory use, causing actual inconvenience and potential hazards, have consistently passed their PAT assessments with flying colors.
Occasionally, rumors circulate of equipment failing due to obviously visible damage, such as frayed power cables. Of course, one hardly requires a certified technician with specialized equipment to identify a cable that looks like it's been gnawed by particularly aggressive laboratory mice.
This Week's Masterpiece
Following our recent freezer incident that so thoughtfully spoilt my holidays, this week's PAT testing delivered yet another stroke of genius. Our contracted technician, in his infinite wisdom, decided to test one of my laboratory fridges along with its essential power extension lead.
The testing process proceeded flawlessly: both items received their stamps of approval. However, in what can only be described as a moment of inspired efficiency, our technician then reconnected the fridge to the extension lead but apparently decided that actually plugging the extension lead into the wall socket was an unnecessary final step. After all, the extension lead was safe to use, but surely using it not at all must be even safer! And, with optimal efficiency, this was done on a Friday afternoon, just minutes after my departure, ensuring maximum dramatic impact for Monday morning's discovery. Nothing quite prepares one for the sight of the content of the refrigerator having enjoyed an unexpectedly tropical weekend.
The Casualties of Safety
The warming casualties include approximately 60 P1 lysate stocks. While P1vir stocks aren't the most delicate of laboratory materials, they do maintain certain temperature preferences, much like fine wine or, indeed, any biological material one might hope to keep functional.
I learned this lesson rather expensively during my transition from Nottingham to Brunel, when a similar temperature excursion transformed a perfectly functional collection of lysates into expensive biological decorations. The stocks that had performed beautifully for years suddenly developed an aversion to working, forcing me to consign them to what we might diplomatically call "bacteriophage retirement."
The Waiting Game
How many of this week's victims will survive their impromptu sauna session? Only time and future experiments will tell. Currently lacking the manpower for a systematic replacement program, we will have to adopt the optimistic approach of testing them as needed. Each experiment will now carry the added excitement of discovering whether our essential reagents have joined their predecessors in bacteriophage heaven.
This uncertainty will undoubtedly introduce charming delays to our ongoing research, particularly if we need to resurrect bacterial strains from our stocks - assuming, of course, that these survived the recent Liebherr freezer adventure.
The Joy of Discovery
And so we continue this delicate dance between safety compliance and actual functionality, where the pursuit of theoretical protection consistently undermines practical research. Each PAT testing cycle brings fresh opportunities to discover new and creative ways that safety procedures can generate the very hazards they claim to prevent.
How I love laboratory work! The constant reminder that, in the grand theater of bureaucratic safety, the show must always go on.