When industry imitates politics
The UK demolition and construction industry might not have a Trump figurehead, but the same reckless disregard for experience, ethics, and equity is becoming impossible to ignore.
Ever since I returned to the Substack platform as a home for my long-form writing, I’ve found myself increasingly drawn to the subject of US politics: not just as a spectator; but as a student of dysfunction. It’s not the drama or the spectacle that grabs my attention. It’s the patterns. The eerie, creeping sense of déjà vu.
Substack has become a lifeline for independent voices, particularly in the US, where some of the best journalism now lives beyond the reach of corporate media. These voices - unfiltered and unbought - are exposing the machinery behind the Trump administration: the lies, the cronyism, the almost theatrical incompetence.
And every time I read a new exposé about backroom deals, policy made on whims, or leadership decisions based on ego or petty cruelty rather than expertise, a strange thing happens. I don’t just think, “that sounds awful.” I think, “that sounds familiar”.
Because while we may like to believe that such chaos is a uniquely American disease, the symptoms are starting to appear here too: in boardrooms; in industry bodies; and on demolition and construction sites. The UK demolition and construction industry might not have a Trump figurehead, but the same reckless disregard for experience, ethics, and equity is becoming impossible to ignore.
Take Elon Musk. A visionary? Maybe. But also a man whose wealth and notoriety now substitute for real-world governance experience. He’s made himself indispensable to Trump’s economic and technological agenda; not through merit, but through proximity to power and a social media following that makes headlines.
Sound familiar? How many construction and demolition projects are now managed by those who’ve never worn a hard hat in anger? How many CEOs have built their empires not on bricks and mortar but on inherited credibility? Men who wouldn’t last five minutes on site, now making decisions that determine the future of an industry they barely understand.
The idea of accountability is almost quaint now. In the Trump administration, a scandal that would’ve ended careers a decade ago now barely trends on Twitter. And in our industry? When the Competition and Markets Authority uncovered price-fixing and collusion, what happened? A slap on the wrist. A few red faces. And business as usual.
We talk a good game about safety, transparency, fairness. But who really pays when things go wrong? It’s rarely the executives or board members. It's the worker who loses his job. The small contractor squeezed out of a bid. The specialist contractor paying the price for a larger company’s greed and financial mismanagement. The young apprentice who sees the corruption and thinks, “what’s the point of playing fair?”
Let’s talk about gender and representation. Look at the Trump cabinet and what do you notice, aside from the fact that they all look like haunted ventriloquist dummies? Yep, they are all white and they are all male. Trump women are either sent in to deliver the bad news, clean up after the bros have done their worst, or they are there purely as cheerleaders.
Sound familiar? Construction awards where all the winners are white men in suits. Site leadership teams that might include one woman, but she’s usually in HR or marketing. Companies that trot out their single female excavator operator for every PR photo shoot, as if she represents systemic change rather than strategic optics.
The Construction Industry Training Board has confirmed it is sitting on a £95 million cash nest-egg, even while the industry skills shortage grows deeper by the day. Surely that bears more than a passing resemblance to the US policy of enriching billionaires while removing basic health cover for those that need it most.
Trump screams “fake news” at anything that contradicts his narrow worldview. He’s built an echo chamber so tightly sealed, the truth can’t get in. The demolition industry isn’t quite that blatant, but it’s not far off.
Raise concerns about embodied carbon and you're called an environmental extremist. Question the ethics of a major contractor, and suddenly you’re “anti-industry.” Report on proven corruption, and you find yourself cut off from press releases and blocked from industry events.
We pride ourselves on being tough, straight-talking, blue-collar. But the second someone asks uncomfortable questions, the industry becomes as sensitive as an exposed nerve; as secretive as any politician’s press office.
The most dangerous thing about what’s happening in US politics isn’t the chaos itself. It’s how quickly people become used to it; numb to it. It’s the acceptance of the inadequate; the validation of venality; the normalisation of nonsense. And the same applies here.
If we keep tolerating mediocrity at the top, we shouldn’t be surprised when good people walk away. The skilled, the principled, the ones with real passion and purpose; they won’t stick around forever. They’ll go where they’re respected, where competence matters more than connections.
In the US, that might mean citizens emigrating or hopping across the border into the hospitality and sanity of Canada. In demolition and construction, it might mean a continuation of the exodus out of the industry and into alternative sectors.
It used to be said that if America sneezes, the UK catches cold. These days, if America sneezes, the UK demolition and construction industry takes notes and adds that latest sneeze to its playbook.
And maybe that’s why I keep going back to Substack. Because while the press releases and press briefings sanitise and obscure the truth, on Substack it is possible to say what needs to be said. We can call it what it is.
We can call out the corruption. The elitism. The rot.
This is not just an American problem. It’s an industry problem. And unless we name it, unless we face it, we’ll end up building our entire future on the same cracked foundations.