KEEP ME TRAVELLING ALONG WITH YOU

There is a lot to be said for perseverance. Simply ploughing on – or practicing – until, by dint of repetition, you master something. Often things you never thought possible. I can play the piano but, as anyone who knows me will testify, it’s not by virtue of innate musical talent or because I was a budding Mozart – not even his lesser known sister Nannerl. But I did work at it. And there are other skills I have toiled over: cooking; crochet; car maintenance.

I can mark off the Brownie badges of my life in the level of time and effort they took to acquire. You will have had milestone moments too: the day you got your degree; or passed your driving test. The time is coming when being an APS member will also mean you have to demonstrate the competencies you have achieved and the level of skills and experience you have attained. This is not because the Association for Project Safety wants to make your life a misery – it is simply that the Building Safety Act – and whatever parallel arrangements the devolved administrations come up with – will require construction professionals to show and tell.

More complex will be the behaviours people will be expected to demonstrate – and just how we work out how to quantify and measure what those are. It’s going to have to be something more than some soggy notion of leadership and treating each other fairly with some modicum of decency and respect. But, no matter what, APS will be there for you because I don’t think behaviours always come naturally. Although, like anything else, they can be taught – even if they take time to hone to perfection.

Last weekend I was away in a part of the country that was, largely, new to me. I don’t know the countryside between Rugby and Northampton at all. Until I was invited to a lovely service at which my friends and neighbours renewed their marriage vows I think I have only ever driven through Warwickshire, Northamptonshire, Leicestershire and Buckinghamshire – all of which you could see at once from a vantage point close to where I was staying.

Looking around the church it was lovely to see friends and family of the happy couple. Later some recalled how they had met, telling tales of the original wedding day and recounting their own travels through life.

It was a very happy day.

But no one had made it there without hard work. OK – Georgina perhaps more than most as she was the envy of everyone because she could still fit into her original wedding dress. That, of itself, provides proof positive of a great deal of discipline and dedication. I’ve always seen the happy, hand-holding external face of the relationship. But everyone knows all unions worth fighting for – not matter how loved-up - will have had moments when plodding commitment was more important than high romance. Times when it was kindness, tolerance and hard work that held things together.

I am sure every successful couple could run a masterclass on the little things that matter and the lessons they have learned along the way. But nothing teaches us quite as well as the experiences we have lived for ourselves. And the things that stick most in the mind – well, they stick in mine anyway – are the things I wouldn’t ever want to repeat.

I have found out so much the hard way:

§?don’t rush downstairs shouting to television crews - well, not at least until you check the cameras are not running. Otherwise you accidentally broadcast to the nation and have to pay a small fortune in forfeits to your colleagues;

§?don’t let photographers stay in the room for the whole news conference because they get in the way, annoy the reporters and always manage to get the one shot where your boss looks like they have just eaten a live hamster – and don’t find it appetising at all; and, one I wish I could always remember

§?don’t ever hit ‘reply all’ unless you really meant to tell everyone - including the ones you were not inviting - about a very posh and high-powered dinner. That one took some time to live down.

But one thing I don’t regret is writing to you all as often as I do. That has taken some dedication too – even if, like my keyboard skills, my views have sometimes been something some of you might I wished I had kept to myself. I believe the letters have definitely been worth doing, especially when I have some genuine good news for you. From next week you will be able to pick up tickets to this year’s APS Spring Conference – one of the few events you have to pay for over-and-above your subscriptions. We are going to be looking at Progress and Prevention – the subtle art of learning from the things that didn’t go quite according to plan.

I encourage you to look out for the email – we have a great line up of speakers brave enough to admit mistakes in public in the hope their failures can help you avoid mistakes of your own. Like any good marriage it takes guts to admit when you are wrong. And it takes real courage to learn from your experiences but keep on going.