A construction manager from Somerset has put his working life and his grief into a song, in the hope that it will persuade other people on building sites to say out loud when they are struggling. Ben Francis, from Bruton, has released a new single called Smile in the Dirt, recorded at Abbey Road Studios, about the pressures of working in construction and about the importance of talking about how you feel. The story was reported by the BBC, and it is a personal one: Francis wrote the song after losing his uncle, and he wants it to reach the people who spend their working days on sites like his own.
Two construction workers on a building site, illustrative image
Illustrative image of construction workers. Photo by Paul Keheler, via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY). This is not a photograph of Ben Francis or Jonathan Carpenter.
A song written for the people on site
Smile in the Dirt is not a general song about wellbeing. It is a song written by one builder, for the trade he has worked in for most of his life, after a loss in his own family. Francis has worked in construction since he was 15, according to the BBC report, and he now runs his family business. That long experience on site shapes the song and its message. He knows the rhythms of the working day, the physical demands, the deadlines, and the culture of a site, because he has lived them.
The title itself points to the world the song comes from. Dirt, dust, and hard physical work are part of daily life in construction, and Francis uses that setting to talk about something that is often left unsaid. His hope, as reported by the BBC, is that the song and his uncle's story will reach fellow construction workers. He wants it to challenge a familiar habit on site: masking problems with banter instead of talking about them honestly. On many sites, humour is how people get through a long shift, and there is nothing wrong with that in itself. The problem comes when joking becomes a way of hiding distress, so that nobody notices when a colleague is finding things hard.
Recording the single at Abbey Road Studios gives the project a reach beyond a local release. Abbey Road is one of the most famous recording studios in the world, and a recording made there is more likely to be noticed, shared, and played. For Francis, that attention is a means to an end. The point is not only the song, but the conversations it might start among people who hear it on a site, in a van, or at home after work.
A life in construction, and a family loss
The story behind the song begins much earlier than the recording session. Francis lost his uncle, Jonathan Carpenter, who took his own life in December 2023. Carpenter was a meticulous carpenter and a keen musician, and he played an important part in Francis's own musical life. He helped Francis build his first guitar when Francis was six years old, and he helped him write his first song when he was 10. Music, in other words, was something they shared, and it was part of their relationship long before Francis became a construction manager.
That history matters to how the song should be understood. Smile in the Dirt is not an outsider's comment on construction. It comes from inside a family in which building and music sat side by side, and in which a skilled carpenter who loved music is now remembered through a song. Francis hopes that telling his uncle's story will help other people. By speaking openly about a bereavement that many families find painful to discuss, he is modelling the very thing the song asks for: talking, rather than hiding, when life is difficult.
Bereavement by suicide can leave families with questions that have no simple answers, and it can affect people for a long time afterwards. It can also make other people unsure what to say. One of the most helpful responses is often the simplest: to listen, to take the person seriously, and to avoid treating the subject as something that must never be mentioned. A song cannot answer those questions, but it can give people a way to begin a conversation that might otherwise feel impossible.
Why talking is hard on a building site
Construction sites are sociable places, but they are not always easy places to be honest about feeling low. The work is physical, the hours can be long, and workers often spend time away from home. Jobs can be insecure, with gaps between contracts, and financial pressure can add to the strain. In that setting, admitting that you are struggling can feel like admitting that you cannot cope with the job, even though the two things are not the same.
There is also a cultural barrier that many people in the industry recognise. Construction remains a heavily male workforce, and in many workplaces there is still an expectation that men should simply get on with things. That expectation does not come from one person or one site. It builds up over years, through jokes, through the way problems are handled, and through the fear of being seen as weak by colleagues. The result is that people can spend a whole shift surrounded by others and still feel unable to say that they are not all right.
Francis's song takes aim at exactly that pattern. By naming the habit of masking problems with banter, he gives it a name, and once something has a name it is easier to notice and to change. A colleague who hears the song might recognise the pattern in himself, or in someone he works with, and that recognition can be the first step towards a proper conversation. The song does not need to solve the pressures of the industry to be useful. It needs to make it slightly easier for one person to say that they need help, and for another person to listen.
Employers and site managers also have a part to play. A culture in which people feel safe to speak up does not appear by accident. It comes from managers who check in properly, who treat mental health as part of safety rather than as a separate matter, and who make sure workers know where to get support. Training, clear signposting, and a willingness to act when someone raises a concern all matter. A song can open the door, but workplaces still need to be ready on the other side of it.
Close view of fingers playing an acoustic guitar, illustrative image
Illustrative image of guitar playing. Photo by Vincent Lock, via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY). This is not a photograph of Ben Francis or the recording of Smile in the Dirt.
What the numbers say about construction and mental health
The concern behind the song is supported by figures that show construction workers face a higher risk than the general population. Mates in Mind, a charity working on mental health in the industry, cites Office for National Statistics data showing that workers in construction were at some of the highest risk of suicide in the country, at 3.7 times higher than the national average in 2020. That figure is widely cited in industry reporting, and it underlines why campaigns aimed at construction workers are treated as urgent rather than optional.
More recent figures point in the same direction. An analysis of Office for National Statistics data records 512 suicide deaths among construction workers aged 20 to 64 in England and Wales in 2024 registrations, the highest annual number in the series covering registrations from 2011 to 2024. The same analysis notes that a count on its own cannot show the level of risk without taking the size and make-up of the workforce into account, which is an important caution. Even with that caution, the scale of the numbers explains why the industry has been urged to treat mental health as a safety issue.
Other research adds detail about the pressures involved. A study of self-employed construction workers carried out by Mates in Mind and the Institute for Employment Studies found that stress, anxiety, and low mood were linked to factors including intense workloads, financial problems, and poor work-life balance. The study also found that stigma could prevent workers from discussing mental health beyond close friends or family. Those findings fit closely with the message of Smile in the Dirt. If workers only talk to a small circle, or to nobody at all, then a public song that normalises the conversation can help to widen that circle.
It is worth being clear about what the figures do and do not show. They do not mean that every construction worker is at risk, and they do not mean that construction work alone causes these deaths. Mental health is shaped by many factors, including personal circumstances, health, relationships, and access to support. What the figures do show is that the industry has a particular problem, and that efforts to reach its workers, in their own language and in their own settings, are worth making.
Music as a way to start a conversation
Music has a long history of helping people say things that are hard to say in ordinary conversation. A song can be played in a group without anyone having to admit that it speaks to them personally, and it can still reach the person who needs it most. It can also be shared easily, from one phone to another, from one site cabin to the next, without any formal campaign behind it. That informality is part of its strength.
For Francis, music is also a personal language. He built his first guitar at six and wrote his first song at 10, with his uncle's help, so writing a song about loss and about work is a natural way for him to respond to what happened. The song connects three parts of his life: the trade he works in, the music he has made since childhood, and the uncle who encouraged both. Listeners do not need to know all of that background to understand the song, but the background gives it a sincerity that a purely commercial release would lack.
There is also a practical purpose behind the release. All proceeds from Smile in the Dirt go to mental health charities. The BBC report does not name the four charities that will receive the proceeds, and no charity is named here as a recipient, because that detail could not be verified from the BBC report. What is clear is the intention: the song is meant to raise money as well as awareness, so that listening to it also contributes to support for others. Readers who want to support mental health charities directly can do so through established organisations, and the support section below gives a starting point for anyone who needs help now.
Where to find support
If this story raises difficult feelings, help is available. In the UK, Samaritans can be called free, day or night, on 116 123. Samaritans volunteers provide confidential emotional support to anyone who is struggling to cope, and the service is open to anyone, whether or not they work in construction. If you are worried about a colleague, a friend, or a family member, you can also call for advice on how to support them, and you do not need to have all the answers before you pick up the phone.
Other routes to support include speaking to a GP, contacting a local mental health service, or using a workplace employee assistance programme where one is available. On a construction site, the Construction Industry Helpline and industry charities also provide support specifically for people in the trade. The most important step is often the first one, and it does not need to be dramatic. A short, honest conversation, a text message to a friend, or a call to a helpline can all be enough to start getting help.
Francis's hope is that his song will make that first step a little easier for people who work in construction. By turning his own experience into music, and by telling his uncle's story openly, he is asking his industry to change one habit: to talk, rather than to hide behind banter, when things get hard. If Smile in the Dirt helps even a small number of workers to have that conversation, then it will have done the job it was written to do. For more health reporting from Verity, see the Health section and the latest news on the Verity homepage, and read about Verity. Verity's recent health reporting has also covered difficult stories where families sought answers, including an investigation into the death toll in the DR Congo Ebola outbreak and a hospital admitting responsibility after a toddler's death.
