Redefining Toughness

From the time we first picked up tools to build things, construction workers have seemed to be as tough as the nails they use on the job. In fact, the “suck it up and get it done” attitude was once considered to be an occupational badge of honour, reserved only for those who pushed through to finish the job – no matter what.

But the cracks in the mortar of that approach have been showing for some time. Construction has logged a disproportionate amount of suicide and substance dependencies, fuelled by a traditionally unforgiving atmosphere where no one wants to be seen as the weak link. According to Statistics Canada data, 33 per cent of construction industry workers say their mental health is poor. The suicide rate in construction is nearly four times the national average, with death by suicide outnumbering on-the-job fatalities by a staggering four to one.

Trevor Botkin is a 30-year veteran of the trades, a Red Seal Carpenter who has worked as foreman and superintendent on large jobs across Western Canada. His world ground to a halt in 2019, when he was admitted to a residential treatment facility to deal with a mental health and substance abuse problem.

Growing up on a farm on Vancouver Island, Botkin was raised to be tough. He struggled in school but was good with his hands, naturally gravitating towards the trades. “I excelled quite quickly and had a good work ethic,” he said. “The job always came first. It was work hard, play hard – and we were proud to suffer together. I loved it.”

The camaraderie he enjoyed with his colleagues was grounded in resilience, strength and hard work. Personal lives – and feelings of any kind – were left at the jobsite gate. Now aged 51 and post-treatment, Botkin looks at things differently. Today, he is the strategic lead, trades and podcast co-host for the Canadian Men’s Health Foundation (CMHF).

“When I got out of treatment, I could clearly see I was not alone,” he said. “Substance abuse and mental health challenges were common. I had taken a job with a construction-related charity, and I had a bit of a public face at the time; I was sharing my story honestly.”

The big lesson he learned from treatment is that when you’re in a physically demanding job, you need to condition yourself like a professional athlete, including plenty of rest and good nutrition. In his view, toughness isn’t about running yourself into the ground. It’s about putting yourself in the best position to perform safely and consistently over the long term.

“The industry was really tough when I came in. We didn’t take care of ourselves,” he said. “My experience is that the apprentice form of teaching is the best way for anyone to learn, but it’s also the best way to pass down outdated mentalities about work.”

The “suck it up” culture is one of those outdated concepts, often perpetuated by colleagues, leaders and the worker’s own pride and fear of judgment. Increasingly, however, industry leaders are challenging the idea that toughness means suffering in silence. Instead, they argue that speaking up, asking for help and looking out for coworkers are signs of professionalism, not weakness.

“I think historically it wasn’t uncommon to see employers pushing back on workplace safety programs,” reflected Botkin. “They told us they didn’t want us to file claims; they wanted to keep us at work. The construction industry was notorious for letting people go if they couldn’t keep up. It’s always in the back of your mind: ‘I don’t want to be the weak link.’ It was keep up, or be set aside.”

Today’s jobsite culture is changing, but progress has been slow. Botkin summed it up: “I think there is a small part of the industry that is legitimately changing. I think there is a larger part of the industry that is kind of lukewarm to everything, but willing to check some boxes. And then I think there is still a part that is just sick of the ‘whining.’” However, as the next generation of workers comes on board, he feels the industry is at a cultural crossroads.

“Younger people have a better understanding of their health,” he said. “However, although they are very connected to social media, they are also very disconnected at the same time. There is a sense of hyper-individualism; whereas in my day, I did have strong connections with the guys around me.”

He believes his generation is accountable for making things better.

“The reality may be that jobsites have better cultures now, but with guys like me in leadership roles, we could have the same outcome,” said Botkin. “Passing down the trauma from your experience to the next generation, that’s unfortunately part of apprenticeship. I had a crash and I had to open my mind and move ahead – not every one goes through that.”

He says it’s even more challenging for women on a construction jobsite. His advice? Don’t prioritize being one of the guys; just be one of the women. “In B.C. and other provinces, there are groups and non profits built around organizing women’s networks in the industry,” he said. “I would say to get dialled in to them. They are doing a lot of work to create safer workplaces.”

Pressure to fit in

Susan Carey, president-elect of the Canadian Association of Women in Construction (CAWIC) and president of BuildSafe, a construction safety services company, says women in construction are under a different sort of stress on the jobsite.

“Women continue to be under-represented,” she said. “I think women will adapt to workplace pressures since it’s the path of least resistance with their crew. If they are the only [woman], they will go along to get along.” For Carey, that pressure to fit in can make it harder for workers to speak up when something isn’t right. While every worker can feel pressure to appear tough, she says that pressure is often amplified for women working in male dominated environments. When workers feel they must constantly prove themselves or fit in, they can become less likely to raise concerns, ask questions or admit when they’re struggling.

With one in three Canadian construction workers reporting poor mental health, Carey says industry is talking more about psychological safety. “When we see large employers adopting programs and practices geared towards positive mental health, it extends out to others,” she said. “Leadership has to set the example – no grey area. When other subtrades come onto the site and take notice, it can motivate change.”

While the job still needs to get done, Carey says a gradual shift is underway to a more empathetic approach. “What may have worked in the past is not going to be the best path forward. If you still have leadership from the old school of thought, there’s probably not a lot of empathy regarding psychological safety. But the world is a different place now; our sector currently has the highest suicide rate. We need to lead in a different way. Empathy becomes our best tool.”

For Carey, that doesn’t mean lowering standards. It means creating an environment where workers feel safe speaking up before small problems become serious ones. She says workers must be trained to speak up in support of one another without fear of reprisal.

“If you notice someone is struggling, let your supervisor know,” said Carey. “I think we’ll see the younger generation will speak up. This work needs to be collaborative.” At the end of the day, Carey says construction is staring down a workforce shortage, and it can’t afford to lose any workers. “I do hear dialogues about psychological safety. I think it’s going to be hard for some in the industry to address this topic,” she said. “But I’ve seen forward movement, which is great. At least people are having conversations.”

No longer taboo

Built by the unionized construction, trades and technical industries, BuildStrong by the Construction Industry Rehabilitation Plan (CIRP) is a B.C.-based mental health and substance use treatment program and resource provider. Executive Director Brooks Patterson has been involved with the organization since 2001, and has seen it evolve over the past quarter-century.

“In 2015, we started asking questions about our intake,” he said. “We identified individuals who were challenging to put into our traditional 12-step model. We shifted to a bio-psycho-social mode to help them deal with concurrent disorders in addition to substance abuse. Fentanyl has upped the risk substantially.”

He says the very nature of heavy construction is that it attracts people who aren’t necessarily averse to risk. “I think that for your readership, which is largely equipment driven, you have operators who are isolated in a cab by themselves, often in remote locations away from traditional supports – a vulnerable person in isolation with all kinds of temptations that go along with it,” he said.

Funded through the collective agreements for 15 major industry partners, BuildStrong by CIRP handles 5,000 unique appointments every year. Most clients attend counselling sessions, although the organization also refers those who are ready to 90-day bed-based treatment programs. Patterson says staff have recently seen an increase in clients from underrepresented groups, including female, Indigenous and LGBTQ+ communities, as well as “a rather drastic uptick” in the number of clients with suicidal thoughts.

“There is less stigma to talk about it now, so we’ve done a good job there,” he said. “There is a global conversation around mental health, and it’s now safe to talk about it, but far more difficult to deal with it.”

Patterson says it’s hard for construction workers to ask for help when they need it. “Speaking from personal experience, there is far more tolerance for a labourer to take time off than an operator,” he said. “The machine takes no holidays. When a customer sees a machine not operating, that’s a problem. Machines are expensive, and customers want to see them working. When a key operator goes down, productivity immediately suffers – so there is a ton of pressure on that operator to suck it up.”

Construction may be one of the last frontiers for so-called “manly men,” and Patterson says that unfortunately, expressions like “man up” or “walk it off” are still part of the jobsite vernacular. However, he also says younger workers have a different outlook. “Schools have changed the way they approach things, and social media has introduced another point of view,” he said. “There are lots of signals for young people to latch onto, but construction workers are still at much higher risk.”

Patterson adds that since the COVID-19 pandemic, it’s been more acceptable to talk about mental health. High-level decision-makers are turning their minds to the topic, even around the boardroom table. Which is a good thing, because odds are that they already have a problem in their organization.

“Employers and jobsites need to become aware that they already have a mental health and substance use problem in the workplace. Upwards of 30 per cent of every population in any system have a problem with drugs or alcohol,” said Patterson. He advises workers to get familiar with available work place supports before they are needed. “Anyone can call us. If they’re not eligible for counselling, we will listen and point them to resources that are available,” said Patterson. “You can also call BC211, which can help you find free resources throughout B.C.”

The point, says Patterson and the others interviewed for this story, is that no one in the industry is alone. There is always hope.

“Before I reached out for help, I had 99 fears, and probably only one of them came true,” said Botkin. “I would offer that even if [speaking up] affected your job, there is another job out there. If employees start setting a new tone and going where employers take better care of them, that will have a huge effect on jobsite culture. Remember, there is a path out of this, and there is a better way of doing things that doesn’t cost your physical or mental health.”

For an industry long defined by endurance and self reliance, that shift may represent a new definition of toughness: protecting yourself and the people around you while still getting the job done.