Why Construction Safety Needs a Mental Health Overhaul

Fall survivor Jason Anker MBE explains why physical PPE isn't enough to stop the industry's leading cause of death.

• By Jesse Jacobs
• Feb 23, 2026

On Jan. 3, 1993, Jason Anker was 24 years old and eager to please. When a request came in for a "rush job" to fix a leaking roof, the young roofing laborer didn't hesitate. He climbed a ladder that hadn't been secured. His supervisor, assuming Anker was already down, turned his back. The ladder slipped.

"I thought I was going to be okay," Anker recalled. "When I first landed on the floor, I just thought I’d banged my head. It was only when I tried to sit up that I realized I couldn’t feel my legs."

The diagnosis at the hospital was a T10 spinal fracture. The verdict was absolute: "You’ll never walk again."

Thirty years later, the construction industry is still grappling with the same gravity-bound tragedies. Despite advancements in PPE, digital inspections, and more rigorous OSHA-style standards, falls from height remain the leading cause of death in the sector. In the UK alone, the 2023/24 period saw 51 fatalities, followed by 35 in 2024/25.

Anker, now an MBE and a leading safety advocate, argues that the industry’s plateau in safety performance stems from a refusal to look beyond the harness. Speaking with executives from Bagnalls, The PDA and SHEQ, Anker highlighted a critical missing component in modern site culture: the bridge between physical safety and mental well-being.

The "Macho" Myth and Mental Fatigue

Looking back at the day of his accident, Anker doesn't blame the ladder or the supervisor alone. He blames a culture that encouraged him to stay silent about his own state of mind. He had been out late at a party the night before; he was tired, potentially hungover, and emotionally "blinkered."

"I’m not saying that negative well-being caused my accident, but it was a major contributory reason why I chose not to speak up that day," Anker said. "I did all the right things—stopped, thought about it, realized it was unsafe—and I still went ahead and did it anyway."

In 1993, the safety barrier was often "banter" or a lack of training. Today, Anker sees a different threat: digital isolation. "People get in the van today, and all I have to do is stick my head in my mobile phone, and my supervisor will never pick up on my problem."

Moving Beyond "I'm Fine"

To counter this, Anker’s organization, Proud2BSafe, has pioneered the "F-IT" workshop model. The goal is to move past the standard, closed-ended safety check. If you ask a worker if they are okay, they say they are "fine." But if you ask for their "F-IT score," it opens a door to discuss the stressors that lead to shortcuts.

"If you want a really great culture, that’s where wellbeing comes in," Anker explained. "I always ask the question, ‘Are you safe or are you lucky?’ and most people will reply that they’re lucky. They’re openly admitting they have done things that aren’t safe just to get the job done."

The Multi-Generational Cost of a Shortcut

Anker’s mission as an ambassador for the No Falls Foundation is to instill a sense of "psychological safety"—the idea that an employee should feel empowered to report a near-miss or refuse a task without fear of reprisal.

He challenges workers to be honest with those they leave at home. "If you’re prepared to take shortcuts, that should mean you have to go home at the end of every day and explain to your wife, husband, or partner exactly what shortcuts you take. You should have to tell your children what you’re risking."

For Anker, the consequences of a 1993 shortcut are still unfolding. "My grandchildren are affected today by what I did," he said.

By integrating well-being into the safety conversation, Anker believes the industry can finally move from being reactive to proactive, ensuring that "luck" is no longer a requirement for making it home at the end of the shift.

This feature was developed in collaboration with Bagnalls.