Do you know what today is? Yes, it is a Wednesday. It is also the day before the 24th anniversary of 911. It is the birthday of golfer Arnold Palmer, actor Colin Firth, and of Aerosmith guitarist Joe Perry. But, beyond that, today is World Suicide Prevention Day.

In truth, the name of the day is a misnomer. There will be no prevention. No-one will be confiscating handfuls of pills from those struggling with mental health issues. None of us will be expected to talk our friends, family members and colleagues down from a ledge. World Suicide Prevention Day is, first and foremost, a day to raise awareness.

Now, of course, many companies in the demolition and construction industry will likely co-opt the day to shout about their commitment to mental health awareness. LinkedIn will be awash with virtue signalling about mental health first aiders and other such initiatives.

Whether those claims will be matched by any genuine action, no-one knows, though – personally – I doubt it. So ultimately, this comes down purely to awareness.

But my question is this. Who in this industry needs greater awareness of an issue that is claiming the lives of more than 500 of our working men and women each year?

This article continues on Demolition Insider. Please use the link below to access this article FOR FREE.

Regular viewers will know that I have no fear of addressing controversial subjects on this show. But today, we are entering exceptionally dangerous territory; we are going to be wading into treacherous waters filled not with sharks and crocodiles but by talk of immigration and flags.

But before you lash a Union flag to your nearest lamp-post, paint a cross of St George on a zebra crossing, or call upon Government to intercept a flotilla of small boats in the English Channel, let me be clear.

The immigrants I would like to talk about are the legal ones. The ones we need. The ones that come through the front door during the day and not on a small inflatable during the dead of night. And the flag I’d like to talk about is the big red one that should be flying over the UK demolition and construction sector right now as our ailing Government plans tighter migration controls that could have a massive and negative impact upon the industry’s workforce.

This article continues on Demolition Insider. Please use the link below to access this article FOR FREE.

It’s weird how inspiration strikes. There I was, minding my own business, music playing in the background, when a song came on that instantly transported me back to the mid-1980s while simultaneously providing me with a useful and timely metaphor.

That song, “If I was” by former Ultravox frontman Midge Ure, was released almost 40 years ago. I hadn’t heard it in decades. Those that are old enough might recall the premise of the song in which Ure imagines himself in various roles – sailor, painter, poet – and how each might declare and demonstrate their undying love for an unnamed woman. “If I was a soldier, captive arms I’d lay before her”.

I was 21 when that came out, so when I heard it again my initial response was one of nostalgia tinged with sadness at my lost youth.

But then I was struck that the song would be a perfect backdrop for a look at the demolition and construction industry of today.

So stick with me while me (and Midge Ure) imagine the demolition and construction industry as other things and in different scenarios. I will start with the issue of recruitment. And to highlight the problem that demolition and construction faces, let’s imagine the industry as an actor at a Hollywood casting call.

This article continues on Demolition Insider. Please use the link below to access this article FOR FREE.

The night before last, I was sent a link to a newspaper article about a demolition gone awry. The headline read: “Norton demolition temporarily halted after digger toppled onto side among rubble”. As if that headline was not self-explanatory enough, they showed several photos of a New Holland excavator lying on its side.

For all I know, that machine might still be there, lying among the demolition debris like a wounded animal. Quite how it came to be in this predicament is hard to say. Perhaps the operator tracked the machine over an unseen void and it partially collapsed into a basement. Maybe the operator had built himself a platform from which to operate, and then toppled off it. Maybe it was something else.

But there is a clue. A clue into how this unfortunate turn of events came into being. And that clue is in the name on the hoarding around the site, which apparently reads: “Budget Property Maintenance and Rubbish Removal”. That name might also go some way to explain why the fallen machine appeared to have no demolition guarding on it.

It would be easy, at this juncture, to point to the rubbish removal company and say they had over-reached themselves; that they had portrayed themselves as a demolition contractor which – according to their name at least – they are not; that their confidence was writing cheques that their experience was incapable of cashing.

But Budget Property Maintenance and Rubbish Removal didn’t just pitch up and start demolishing. Demolition contractors – like vampires – must be invited in.

This article continues on Demolition Insider. Please use the link below to access this article FOR FREE.

In 1947, a group of scientists – including Albert Einstein and Robert Oppenheimer and others who had worked on the Manhattan Project – founded the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists. Haunted by the destructive force they had unleashed on the world, they sought a way to warn humanity. They needed a symbol that could communicate urgency, fragility, and danger without a single word.

They created the Doomsday Clock.

The hands on this symbolic clock could be shifted back or forward depending on how close humanity stood to catastrophe; whether from nuclear weapons, climate change, or, more recently, artificial intelligence. Midnight meant destruction. Midnight meant the end.

Over the years, the hands have moved back and forth, but never by much. Humanity, it seems, is always flirting with disaster.

Today, that clock stands at just 89 seconds to midnight – the closest it has ever been. Nuclear threats sharpened by the war in Ukraine, rising global instability, conflict in Gaza, a worsening climate crisis, a US president that treats allies as enemies and enemies as allies, and the unstoppable march of technology have all conspired to keep us teetering on the edge.

The UK demolition and construction industry does not have a Doomsday Clock. But perhaps it should. For if such a clock existed, its hands would not rest calmly at twenty or thirty minutes from midnight. No. This industry – long plagued by crises both slow and sudden; longstanding and relatively recent – would find its own symbolic clock drawing ever closer to catastrophe. Each unresolved problem, each mounting challenge, each missed opportunity for change ticks the hands forward.

This article continues on Demolition Insider. Please use the link below to access this article FOR FREE.