The auld acquaintance construction forgot

When the clock strikes midnight tonight, many of us will cross and link our arms and join a chorus of “Auld Lang Syne” as it is sung up and down the nation. For many, this age old tradition will mark the end of a year we’ll be happy to put behind us. For most, we will herald the arrival of a brand New Year, of new hope, and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

But some (many) will be singing “Auld Lang Syne” for the final time as a construction worker. The Construction Skills Certification Scheme (CSCS) Grandfather Rights expires at midnight tonight. In all likelihood, it will spark a mass exodus of experienced workers at a time when the industry can least afford it.

My LinkedIn feed has been filled with posts from those valuable, time-served and experienced workers these past few days. For some, those posts are a last-ditch attempt to find a loophole; a means by which they can remain within an industry to which they have already given so much. For others, those posts are a final cry of anguish; a parting shot as they are ushered prematurely towards the industry scrap heap.

Who knows how many more experienced workers will be impacted by the end of Grandfather Rights? How many have already left the industry having seen the writing on the wall? How many more are not venting their anger on social media because they are too busy packing up their belongings before leaving site for the final time; too busy trying to figure out what to do next?

The industry is already in the grip of a deep and unrelenting skills shortage. It is already aware that it is failing to attract young people into the sector in sufficient numbers. With the end of Grandfather Rights, the construction sector has shot itself in the foot by pushing many of its most experienced and most valuable workers through the out door. It has then reloaded and shot itself in the other one by ejecting the very people that could serve as mentors to the trickle of young people that are still willing to work in this unforgiving industry.

Sir Keir Starmer’s plans to build 1.5 million new homes within the next five years was already pie in the sky; a policy built on nothing more tangible than hope and a desire for positive headlines. Those plans failed to recognise that construction already has too few people to build sufficient homes to meet current demand, let alone the greatly elevated targets for the next five years. Yet, at the same time, it has pressed ahead with a plan that could result in thousands more workers leaving the sector, taking their skills, knowledge and experience with them. Even if a role in construction suddenly became the must-have career for all those post-millennials, there will now be fewer experienced workers to show them the ropes.

Workers are the fuel that drives construction, and the industry engine was already sputtering. Now we have too little fuel going in at the top while existing fuel is pouring out the bottom. And, when we run out of fuel, the engine stops.

So as the clock strikes midnight tonight, most of us will raise a glass to toast a New Year filled with new hope and new opportunities. Some, however, will raise a glass to bid farewell to an industry sector that has bled them dry and cast them aside.

Most of us will give little thought to the lyrics, “Auld Lang Syne” is a call to remember old friends and days gone by.

But those at the top of the UK construction sector - those with their noses in the trough; those with an axe to grind; those far removed from the daily grind of construction life - will hear the words “Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?” And their answer will be a whispered yes.