ChatGPT’s HF Alky Operating Procedures
If you are a process safety expert AI will not replace you. But another process safety expert using AI will.
When thinking about the future of process safety, two topics come to mind. The first is story-telling; the second is the use of Artificial Intelligence (AI), particularly Large Language Models such as ChatGPT.
With regard to story-telling, that is how humans have communicated with one another for tens of thousands of years. Yet process safety professionals communicate with their managers/clients through the written word, mostly in the form of reports. Even spoken presentations are supported by written material such as Powerpoint slides.
Communication via reports has many advantages, but it is by telling stories that we get our message across. Therefore, I have started a series of posts called ‘Operating Procedures: A Story’. The first two posts in the series are Fred and John and Fred’s First Comments. The story starts with management at a refinery deciding that they need to upgrade their operating procedures, starting with the alkylation unit. They hire John, a consultant, to write the procedures. Management also brings in Fred, a retired alkylation unit supervisor, to serve as subject matter expert.
Another important benefit of story telling is that they make the reader/listener think. The message has to be interpreted. (Those of you who are church-goers will be familiar with the Parable of the Prodigal Son. Is that story about the foolish son? Or the envious brother? Or the naïve father? You, dear reader, have to decide; there is no right or wrong answer) Maybe my story about the Operating Procedures will stimulate thoughts to do with process safety. For example, how do operating procedures link to the other elements of process safety management?
ChatGPT’s Story
Having started this human-written series, let’s see how AI would handle this assignment. I presented the following query to ChatGPT 3.5.
Write me a story about a consultant who is hired to write refinery operating procedures for the alkylation unit. His name is John. The subject matter expert is called Fred. Fred is a retired supervisor, he has been brought back for two or three weeks to work with John. The alkylation unit uses liquid hydrogen fluoride - a highly hazardous chemical that must not escape into the atmosphere.
Here is ChatGPT’s story.
The Consultant and the Alkylation Unit: A Story of Refinery Operations
John Matthews arrived at the Orion Energy refinery early on a Monday morning, the air thick with the scent of oil and a hint of salt from the nearby Gulf. He was no stranger to refineries, having spent the last decade as a consultant specializing in writing and refining operating procedures. But this assignment was different. The stakes were higher. He had been hired to write the operating procedures for the alkylation unit, a critical part of the refinery that used liquid hydrogen fluoride (HF) as a catalyst.
Liquid HF was among the most hazardous chemicals in the industry. If it escaped into the atmosphere, it could form a toxic cloud capable of causing severe harm to anyone nearby. The refinery management had made it clear: the new procedures needed to be flawless.
John was greeted by the refinery manager, who wasted no time introducing him to Fred Thompson, the subject matter expert he would be working with. Fred was a retired supervisor, brought back on a short-term contract specifically for this project. He had spent over 30 years at Orion Energy, much of that time overseeing the alkylation unit.
Fred was in his early sixties, with a weathered face that spoke of long hours and hard work. His hair was mostly gray, and he had the deliberate, unhurried movements of someone who knew the dangers of rushing in a refinery.
"John, meet Fred," the manager said. "If anyone knows the alkylation unit inside and out, it’s him."
John extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Fred. I’ve heard you’re the man who kept this place running safely for years."
Fred shook his hand with a firm grip, his eyes narrowing slightly as he sized up the younger man. "Well, let’s see if we can keep it that way."
The two men began their work that same morning. Fred led John to the alkylation unit, a complex maze of pipes, reactors, and towers. The unit was the heart of the refinery, where low-value hydrocarbons were converted into high-octane components for gasoline. But the real challenge was the HF—it had to be handled with the utmost care.
As they walked through the unit, Fred explained each piece of equipment, describing its function and the potential hazards. John took notes, asking questions whenever something wasn’t clear. He knew that writing procedures for this unit would require more than just understanding the mechanics; it would require capturing Fred’s decades of experience in handling HF safely.
"The thing about HF," Fred said as they stood near the acid settler, "is that you can’t afford any mistakes. A leak, even a small one, could be catastrophic. That’s why we have so many safeguards in place. But the procedures need to reflect that—every step, every action, has to be precise."
John nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I’m here to make sure that every detail is captured. We need to think about how the operators will follow these procedures, especially in an emergency."
Fred grunted in agreement. "Exactly. It’s not just about the normal operations. It’s about what happens when something goes wrong. You need to know what to do before you even think about it."
Over the next few days, John and Fred worked closely together. Mornings were spent in the field, with Fred walking John through the unit, explaining the various scenarios that could arise—from routine maintenance to potential emergencies. Afternoons were spent in the control room, where John translated Fred’s knowledge into detailed operating procedures.
Fred was a tough mentor. He didn’t tolerate shortcuts or half-measures. Whenever John drafted a procedure, Fred would go over it with a fine-toothed comb, questioning every step, every assumption.
"This part here," Fred said one afternoon, pointing at a section of the procedure. "You’ve got the operator isolating the HF lines before depressurizing the unit. But what if there’s residual pressure? You need to account for that, or someone’s going to get hurt."
John nodded, making notes. "You’re right. I’ll revise it to include a check for residual pressure and a safe venting procedure."
Fred’s intensity was rooted in a deep sense of responsibility. He had seen accidents in his time—thankfully, none involving HF—but he knew the consequences of complacency. His stories, told in a low, steady voice, served as stark reminders of what was at stake.
As the weeks passed, the procedures began to take shape. John’s drafts grew thicker, filled with annotations, revisions, and Fred’s hard-won insights. The two men developed a rhythm, with John coming to respect Fred’s no-nonsense approach and Fred beginning to trust John’s commitment to getting it right.
One day, as they were reviewing the final procedures, Fred leaned back in his chair and sighed. "You know, John, when I first started here, we didn’t have all these procedures. We learned on the job, from the old hands. But HF—it’s not something you can learn by trial and error. You get one shot to do it right."
John looked up from his laptop. "That’s why we’re doing this, Fred. To make sure the next generation doesn’t have to take those risks. Your experience is what’s going to keep them safe."
Fred nodded slowly. "I hope so. Just remember, these procedures are only as good as the people who follow them. They need to understand why every step matters."
On their last day together, John and Fred stood at the edge of the alkylation unit, looking out over the labyrinth of pipes and towers. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the refinery.
"We’ve done good work here, Fred," John said. "These procedures—they’re solid."
Fred nodded, his gaze fixed on the unit. "We have. But remember, John, this isn’t just paperwork. It’s about lives—about making sure everyone who comes here goes home safe at the end of the day."
John extended his hand. "Thank you, Fred. I couldn’t have done this without you."
Fred shook his hand, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Just doing my part. Take care of yourself, John. And take care of those procedures."
As John left the refinery that evening, he felt a deep sense of accomplishment. The procedures they had written were more than just documents; they were a legacy, a culmination of Fred’s years of experience and his own dedication to safety. And as he drove away, he knew that the operators who followed those procedures would be in good hands—Fred’s hands, captured in every step, every word.
First Pass Comments
Not bad ― the 936 words make a solid story. As time permits, we will analyze ChatGPT’s story in detail. We consider the following aspects of any good story.
Length;
The characters;
The site;
The plot;
The conflict; and
Resolution, including a surprise ending or plot twist.
We will also consider ChatGPT’s propensity to make stuff up, and some of the liability issues that may be so created. For example, is there are real Orion Energy refinery? Why did ChatGPT select that name? Isn’t Fred Thompson a retired American politician?
Fred’s Personality
ChatGPT’s description of Fred’s personality is fascinating. In my story Fred is genial and helpful, but, when it comes to writing procedures, rather unsure of himself. He knows the alkylation unit, but he has some trouble expressing his thoughts.
In the ChatGPT story Fred is far from genial.
Fred was a tough mentor. He didn’t tolerate shortcuts or half-measures. Whenever John drafted a procedure, Fred would go over it with a fine-toothed comb, questioning every step, every assumption.
Stories Within A Story
One of the intriguing aspects of ChatGPT’s story is that its grasps the importance of telling stories.
Fred’s intensity was rooted in a deep sense of responsibility. He had seen accidents in his time—thankfully, none involving HF—but he knew the consequences of complacency. His stories, told in a low, steady voice, served as stark reminders of what was at stake.
