An empty seat at the table
A (mostly) fictitious tale of a demolition conversation that is going on with no input from the demolition industry.
The venue is suitably grand for a discussion of such magnitude; a vast oak-panelled room with a preposterously high ceiling. On the walls are oil paintings of venerable luminaries from the past. Their faces may be unfamiliar but their names and their accomplishments have echoed down the ages.
From the magnificent ceiling is slung a huge chandelier, droplets of glass and crystal each blessed with the ability to conjure and project tiny rainbows of light.
And there, beneath that multitude of rainbows sits a single table. Hewn from a single piece of finest English oak, the table’s mirrored surface – belying its age - reflects those shards of coloured light to lend the room a magical and majestic hue. It is a table of enormous grandeur and history. In the 200+ years since it was made, it has been at the centre of discourse, discussions and debates that have shaped industry and thereby by the nation. It has supported the elbows of politicians and noblemen and captains of industry. And it is set to do so once again.
Sharing the head of the table are a pair of unlikely bedfellows: Communities Secretary Michael Gove and Mayor of London Sadiq Khan. They have set aside their political differences and united around today’s topic of discussion.
To Gove’s right sits the head of the Royal Institute of British Architects. To Khan’s left sits the head of the Royal Institute of Civil Engineers.
Also present are the distinguished heads of august organisations including the British Standards Institution, the Chartered Institute of Building, the Civil Engineering Contractors Association, The Federation of Master Builders, the Construction Industry Council, the Royal Institute of Chartered Surveyors, the Institute of Structural Engineers and several more besides.
All told, the table is set for 20 people. Each of the 20 spaces is marked with a name card. There are 20 water jugs and 20 water glasses sat beside 20 A4 notepads and 20 pens.
In the centre of the table is a sign to remind attendees of the sole topic of discussion. It reads: Embedded carbon and the future of the demolition industry.
19 of the 20 spaces at the table are filled.
But there, at the foot of the table, is an empty space. It too has a water jug and a water glass. It has a notepad and a pen. But its name card is blank.
This is the space that has been set aside for a representative of the demolition industry.
As the conversation begins to decide the fate of an entire industry sector, that chair remains empty. The water remains untouched, the notepad unsullied by words and scribbles.
And as the discussion rises and falls around the table, this one space remains resolutely silent.
Did the demolition industry receive an invitation and decline the offer? Did the invitation get lost in the post? Or did the invitation just never go out?
Whatever the reason, the conversation continues without the very sector that could be hardest hit by the outcome. Rather than being in the meeting to fight its corner, the chair remains empty.
And when the die is cast and fate of the sector has been sealed, the demolition industry will hear about it only in passing when it is too late.