Customer Service in 911: Why It Matters, Why It’s Hard, and How To Do It Well

You hear it from every direction in this line of work.

Another caller who locked themselves out of their car.

Another parent whose teenager is yelling and won’t listen.

Another driver who ran out of gas and insists it is an emergency.

After a while, you start to feel the irritation build. You wonder why people can’t manage the basics. You wonder why they keep calling us for things they should be able to handle themselves. And when ten of these calls hit you in the same night, the frustration is real.

Every dispatcher knows that feeling. Burnout rarely arrives during the high-risk calls that require every ounce of focus. It shows up in the slow drip of low-grade stress from the calls that feel unnecessary.

I’d like to propose a different way to think about all those calls that make you groan. The calls about gas tanks and parenting and neighbors who won’t turn down the music. They are not signs of societal decline. They are not proof that people are getting worse. These kinds of struggles have always existed. They will always exist. Human beings need help with simple things, and they always have.

The tools we use to respond might evolve, and some of the lighter calls may eventually be handled before they reach us, but the need for human calm in chaotic moments is not going away.

Looking at calls through a different lens

A mechanic should not get angry that people do not know how to replace their own fuel pump. That’s the job.

A dentist should not sigh when someone forgets to floss. Well, mine does. But that’s the job.

A computer repair tech does not throw their hands up because users keep clicking on the wrong things. That’s the job.

Those jobs exist precisely because people need help.

If a barista snapped every morning because customers kept showing up “already thirsty,” they would not last long in the industry. Dispatch is not that different.

Dispatching is Problem Solving

People reach out to emergency (and non-emergency) phone numbers because they cannot solve their problem alone. Sometimes the problem is life or death. Sometimes it is something small. Sometimes it is something they should have known how to handle. None of that changes the core of the job.

It also helps to remember something that is easy to forget inside a comm center. For most callers, this is the only time they will ever speak to a dispatcher. They will remember your voice for years. Maybe decades. Even for a mundane call, the interaction will stick with them. Their expectations of government are usually pretty low, which means we have an opening to create a genuinely positive experience with nothing more than tone, patience, and a bit of professionalism.

The hard truth is that this job demands an impossible mix of skills. Dispatchers are expected to maintain emotional control, technical precision, operational awareness, and warmth, all at the same time. Some days feel like running an air traffic tower and a hotel concierge desk at once. That expectation is enormous, and the public has no idea how much is happening behind the scenes.

If someone needs help, we help.

If someone is struggling, we guide them.

If someone is angry, we stay level.

If someone is confused, we make it clearer.

You can still have boundaries. You can still be human. You can still protect yourself emotionally. But once you make peace with the fact that humans are messy, forgetful, inexperienced, and sometimes overwhelmed, the job gets easier. The irritation fades. The burnout loses some of its grip.

There have always been people who cannot fix things on their own. There have always been parents who need backup. There have always been folks who run out of gas. That is not a flaw in the public. It is the reason your job exists. And if you keep that perspective close, the work becomes more sustainable, more meaningful, and sometimes even more rewarding.