When Values and Workplace Outcomes Differ: Lessons from the Bus Driver Case
Posted on February 4, 2026
This case has been all over the media, and it has quickly become politicised, with political parties and commentators using it as a shorthand for bigger debates about law and order, public safety, and whether ordinary people are still allowed to step in when something goes wrong.
A London bus driver, Mark Hehir, saw something most of us hope we’d never witness on a normal shift: a passenger was robbed of a necklace. In the moment, he didn’t freeze. He acted. He chased the alleged robber down, recovered the necklace, and walked back to his bus to return it to the victim.
It’s the kind of story that, on the surface, reads like a modern-day local hero headline. And yet, despite the apparent heroism, Mark lost his job.
If you’re reading this and feeling conflicted, you’re not alone. You might feel proud of him, angry on his behalf, uneasy about the violence, worried about what could have happened to passengers, or frustrated that the right thing seems to come with consequences. That emotional whiplash is exactly why stories like this travel so fast.
What the Tribunal actually decided (and what it didn’t)
This story ended up in the Employment Tribunal.
In Mr Mark Hehir v Metroline Ltd (case 6018181/2024), the Tribunal wasn’t deciding whether Mark was a hero. It was deciding a narrower workplace question: was Mark unfairly dismissed under the Employment Rights Act 1996?
The Tribunal accepted a number of core facts were not in dispute:
- The necklace was snatched and the thief ran
- Mark ran after him
- The necklace was recovered off-camera
- Mark returned and gave the necklace back to the passenger (shown on CCTV)
- The thief returned towards the bus
- Mark struck the thief, knocking him unconscious
- Mark then moved him to the pavement and kept him there until police arrived
Police later took no further action, and a police review note suggested the thief threw the first punch and that Mark’s force was proportionate. But Metroline’s managers were entitled to reach their own view from the CCTV and company procedures.
A key point many people miss is that workplace investigations do not apply the same burden of proof as criminal courts. Employers are not required to prove misconduct beyond reasonable doubt. Instead, employment tribunals focus on whether the employer carried out a reasonable investigation, formed a genuine belief that misconduct had occurred on reasonable grounds, and whether the decision taken including any sanction fell within the range of reasonable responses open to a reasonable employer.
So why wasn’t Mark’s claim upheld? In simple terms, the Tribunal found Metroline had followed a fair process and that its decision fell within that range. The managers involved genuinely believed there had been misconduct, they had evidence they considered sufficient (including their own interpretation of the CCTV and the fact Mark left the bus and became physically involved), and they investigated and heard the matter in a way the Tribunal considered reasonable. The Tribunal’s role was not to decide what it would have done, but whether Metroline’s decision was one a reasonable employer could make.
The outcome: the Tribunal held the unfair dismissal claim was not up-held.
Why this hits a nerve
We want to celebrate people who intervene. It reassures us that public spaces aren’t lawless, and that victims won’t be left alone.
But intervention can escalate in seconds. On a bus, in a shop, or at a station, one confrontation can quickly become a wider safety incident.
From an employer’s perspective, the question isn’t Was the intention good? It’s What could have happened, and what are we responsible for if it does?
This isn’t just a bus driver problem. It’s an everyday frontline dilemma
Versions of this play out every day across customer-facing roles:
- A shop security guard watching someone walk out with a basket of goods
- A retail supervisor being pressured by customers to do something
- A hospitality manager dealing with aggressive, intoxicated customers
- A petrol station attendant facing threats over payment disputes
- A delivery driver confronted on a doorstep
- A train guard, ticket inspector, or station staff member dealing with fare evasion and abuse
In many of these roles, the value of what’s being stolen is often far less than the cost of what happens next if a confrontation escalates.
If a security guard is injured, signed off sick, or traumatised, the business may face sick pay, agency cover, recruitment and training costs, higher insurance premiums, and the operational risk of running short staffed. In blunt terms, replacing a member of staff who is off sick after a violent incident can cost far more than the goods that walked out of the door.
Why employers often say: don’t engage
Many organisations have strict rules telling employees not to physically intervene in crimes.
You see this across sectors:
- Retail staff told not to chase shoplifters
- Security guards instructed to observe, report, and de-escalate
- Hospitality teams trained to prioritise safety over confrontation
- Transport staff advised to contact control rooms and police rather than pursue
To the public, that can look like cowardice. To employers, it’s usually a duty-of-care decision.
Once an employee engages, the organisation may be exposed to injury claims, allegations of excessive force, reputational damage, and legal fallout.
In Metroline’s case, the focus wasn’t whether Mark’s intentions were good. It was whether his actions created unacceptable risk, including leaving the vehicle, deviating from escalation procedures, and becoming physically involved while responsible for passenger safety.
The workplace reality: heroism can still be misconduct
A person can do something brave and still breach policy.
If a policy says do not pursue, confront, or attempt to recover property, an employee who does so may be treated as having put themselves, customers, and the organisation at risk.
That doesn’t mean the employer is anti-hero. It means they’re trying to control risk consistently, and avoid setting an informal precedent that encourages others to take bigger risks next time.
Conclusion: the reputational irony, and what a pragmatic response could have looked like
If Metroline’s goal was to limit reputational damage from the public seeing an employee involved in violence, there’s an irony here. Given the level of media attention, dismissing Mark appears to have created a bigger reputational problem than the original incident itself.
In situations like this, there is often room for discretion. A pragmatic approach might have been to acknowledge the policy breach and the risk, but treat it as a serious warning rather than a dismissal, for example a final written warning alongside retraining, clear expectations, and a formal reminder of the safety-first approach.
What do you think, and do you need help getting this right?
I’d genuinely love to hear your view:
- Should employees ever intervene when theft or violence happens in front of them?
- Where should the line be, and who decides it?
- If you were the employer, would you have dismissed Mark, or used discretion and issued a final written warning?
And if you employ frontline staff and you’re not 100 percent confident your policies, training, and manager decision making are aligned on this issue, it’s worth addressing before your next incident becomes your next headline.
If you want help reviewing your do not engage policy, building a practical incident response process, or training managers to investigate and apply outcomes consistently, get in touch.
