I was recently made a Fellow of the Institution of Civil Engineers (ICE), and even now, writing those words feels both humbling and a little surreal.
For those who may not know it, ICE is one of the oldest and most influential professional bodies in civil engineering. Since the early 19th century, it has helped shape public policy, technical standards, and the profession itself. For me, becoming a Fellow is significant not simply because of the title, but because of what the institution has stood for throughout my career: service, sound judgement, and a deep sense of responsibility.
My own connection to ICE began much later, and in a far more personal way.
In 1999, I travelled to the UK on my OE (overseas experience), a rite of passage familiar to many New Zealanders. By then I was already a qualified civil engineer, working in transportation and becoming increasingly interested in how we help people move from A to B, not just in the infrastructure that carries them there.
While in the UK, I had the privilege of working alongside, and learning from, outstanding transportation planners and engineers. Among them were John Latchford (RIP), Managing Director of JMP Consultants, and George Jamieson, co-founder of Jamieson Mackay and Partners (which is where JMP came from). Both were Fellows of ICE, and both left a lasting impression on me. I admired not only what they had achieved, but the professionalism, integrity, and quiet authority with which they carried themselves.
I spent more than four years with JMP, and many others helped shape that important period of my career, including Phil John, Nick Adamson, and Keith Sowerby. Their guidance, and the standards they upheld, encouraged me to pursue membership of ICE, which I achieved in 2004. Looking back, that step was never really about status. It was about wanting to belong to a profession that valued excellence, continual learning, and meaningful contribution.
One lesson from that time has stayed with me ever since. Phil once sat me down and made me rewrite a contractor instruction not once, but at least half a dozen times. Each revision forced me to think more carefully, write more clearly, and raise my standard. It was a sharp lesson in the value of precision and professionalism. I often joke that I had to go to the UK to learn how to write properly, but there is truth in it: clear communication is not a nice-to-have in our profession, it is part of doing the job well.
A couple of years ago, someone suggested that I should consider applying for Fellowship of ICE. I found that difficult to take in. Early in your career, the people you admire can seem impossibly accomplished, almost beyond reach. I felt that too. One of my earliest mentors, Jim McNeil, had his practising certificate pinned to the wall of his cubicle. As a 17-year-old, I remember looking at it and thinking, “I want to be like Jim.” That quiet ambition stayed with me, and over time it helped shape the path I followed.
Mentors matter more than they realise. Some guide you deliberately; others influence you simply by the example they set. Professional growth is rarely a solo achievement. It is built through the generosity, standards, encouragement, and belief of others. Becoming a Fellow feels less like arriving at a destination and more like completing part of a circle, from being the young person looking up to others, to now trying to live up to the same example.
I am a Fellow of engineering institutions in both New Zealand and the UK, and deeply appreciative of the mentoring I received in New Zealand from the likes of Jim, Don Preston (RIP), Mike Howat, Andrew Cleland, and many others. More than anything, it reminds me that growth never really stops. There is always another standard to meet, another responsibility to carry well, and another opportunity to encourage younger people as they build experience and develop judgement.
Looking ahead, in an age of AI and almost unlimited access to knowledge, professionalism matters more than ever. Doing things right will always be essential, but increasingly the harder challenge is deciding what the right thing is. That is where true professionalism becomes indispensable: offering independent judgement, acting without self-interest, and bringing wisdom as well as technical skill.
Civil engineering has given me a great deal: outstanding colleagues, lifelong friends, international travel, projects that will outlive me, and a profession that has enabled me to raise a family in comfort and stability. It has also demanded a great deal, and that is part of why I value it so highly. I encourage young people to see engineering as a deeply worthwhile career. It is a profession that asks much of you, but gives much in return, and I have never regretted choosing it. I believe many others would find the same sense of purpose, challenge, and fulfilment.
Finally, I want to thank David Bridges and Anthony Wilson, who supported me on my journey to Fellowship of ICE. Your mentorship and leadership gave me something worth aspiring to, and I would not have reached this point without your example. Thank you.