The definition of insanity

Making mistakes is human. But continually repeating those mistakes, surely, is madness?

“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

According to a large number of inspirational mugs and posters, this famous quote comes from none other than Albert Einstein, although that’s actually disputed.

Regardless of who actually said it, the basic premise is correct.

And yet, here in the field of demolition and construction, it is a lesson we have failed to heed. In fact, it is a lesson we continue to ignore, which kind of proves my initial point.

We let major contracts based on price and are then shocked when there is a subsequent price hike. Unforeseen circumstances they call it. No, they’re not. They’re very much foreseen if you’ve been in this game longer than five minutes.

We let major infrastructure projects without proper procurement procedures in place - barely a joined-up thought on risk, delivery, or accountability; and then act amazed when the project overruns by months or years. And somehow it’s always someone else’s fault.

We allow men and machines to work in close proximity and then scratch our collective beards when there’s an accident or a fatality. We could’ve separated them but we didn’t because it required a new approach. Instead, we have proximity sensors, even remote control machines. But we don’t use them either - not consistently, not seriously - because of cost, convenience, or sheer laziness.

We know that falls from height are the biggest single killer in the sector. That is not new information. And yet we continue to build and demolish using methods that require our people to balance on beams and scaffolds like it’s 1930.

We know that competence cards do not prove actual competence. A laminated card doesn’t magically make someone safe, skilled, or experienced. But we carry on pretending, because it ticks a box on a clipboard. Because it makes the paperwork look neat if the worst happens.

We know that workers are struggling with their mental health. We’ve all seen the stats. We’ve all heard the stories, or lived them. But we crack on regardless, placing them under the same pressures, in the same toxic work environments, in the vain hope it will all just blow over. We slap a poster up in the canteen about mental health and think we’ve done our bit.

We know we need more young people to swell our ranks and carry the industry forward. The average age on site keeps creeping up. But instead of reaching out, we cross our fingers and hope work in the trades becomes fashionable again, as if a TikTok trend will save us.

We know our sites and our industry would be enhanced by greater diversity. Not just morally, but practically. Broader ideas, better teams, different perspectives. And yet we still operate in a way where anyone not male and not white is viewed with suspicion or hostility… or both. We might post a photo of a woman in PPE once a year for International Women’s Day, but the site culture doesn’t shift an inch.

So why is this? Why do we keep doing things the same way?

Part of it, I think, is just sheer inertia. The way we do things now is the way we did them yesterday, and the day before that. There’s comfort in the familiar, even if the familiar is broken. People cling to what they know. And those at the top - the ones who could push change - often made their names and money playing by the old rules. Why would they want the game to change now?

There’s also the illusion of action. New acronyms. New committees. New logos. We love a working group in this industry. But if all those meetings and white papers and frameworks don’t lead to actual, lived change on site, then what’s the point?

When I sat down to compose this article or monologue — whatever you want to call it — I already had an intro in my head. But I couldn’t make it flow into the main part of the piece. So, do you know what I did?

I took a step back. I accepted that my intro wasn’t quite as good as I thought it was. And I took a different approach. That different approach is what you’re reading — or listening to — right now.

Little ol’ me. Professional keyboard basher. A handful of O Levels but no university degree. I saw that something wasn’t working. So I tried another way. I wasn’t entirely happy with that either. So I tried a third way. Then a fourth. And then I was happy.

If I can sit at a desk and figure out that something I wrote wasn’t working, and then rewrite it, bin it, and start again until it did, then surely a multi-billion-pound industry can manage the same. Or at least try.

But we don’t. We just keep ploughing ahead, pretending everything’s fine. Burying our heads in the sand and muttering that “this is how it’s always been done” as if that’s a good enough reason. We used to send children up chimneys but we ultimately figured out that was probably a bad idea.

Meanwhile, projects keep running late. Costs keep spiralling. Workers keep getting hurt or killed. Good people keep leaving. Young people keep shunning careers in demolition and construction. And we keep acting surprised, as though we couldn’t see it coming.

And here’s the kicker. We can see it coming. We always could.

We actually have a body called the Construction Leadership Council. We have trade bodies that don’t just see individual and isolated problems — they have a watching brief over the entire sector. They can see the failings and the shortcomings; the repeated problems and issues. They publish reports, they hold summits. And yet here we are.

If they’re not willing or able to forge a new path — not just talk about change, but actually make change — then frankly, what purpose do they serve? What’s the point of having so-called leadership if it only leads us in circles?

I’m not claiming to have all the answers. I don’t. But I do know when something’s broken. And what we’ve got right now? It’s broken.

Sooner or later, we need to stop lying to ourselves and admit the truth: what we’re doing now isn’t working.

Not for the people on site.

Not for the next generation.

And definitely not for the future of this industry.

So maybe it’s time to stop being insane.