I'm curious about what kind of protective equipment that builders would wear during the construction of historical megaprojects. For example, how did workers keep themselves from falling off a cathedral mid-construction? Did they wear a rope belt, or did they simply try not to fall? Did they wear any kind of head protection? How did they avoid injuring themselves from, say, stubbing their toes?
It certainly the case that protective gear would be worn for some occupations. You can see foundry workers and glass workers in Diderot's Encyclopedia wearing various kinds of large leather hats, aprons and cloaks to keep the intense radiant heat of a furnace or crucible of molten brass from burning them. But the concept of something called "safety" is relatively recent. Workers would be tasked with acting sensibly, paying attention, being careful, being trained to know what they're doing. A mason who dropped a brick off a scaffold and brained the man mixing mortar on the ground below could be at fault, and blamed. Or, there could be a debate about whether the man mixing mortar was at fault for setting up right below the scaffold. Or, the boss could be at fault for not telling the mixer to shift away from under the scaffold. Or, ( perhaps rarely) if the brick just happened to shift off the scaffold and brain a man walking by, it could be seen as an act of God, and the brick itself could become a deodand, forfeited to the Church because it caused a person's death ( and from there, possibly go to the local aristocrat who had acquired the right to deodands).
But the whole idea of "jobsite safety" really does come in with the Industrial Revolution, when accidents could become much more severe. For example, in 1841 there was a major railway accident in England, at Sonning Cutting, in which a train was wrecked after running into a pile of dirt from the collapsed sides of a deep cut. Nine passengers were killed, seventeen seriously damaged. No fault was laid to the railway, but there was an attempt to hold the railway engine responsible for the accident and declare it and the rest of the train a deodand ( the local lord may have wanted to use the sale of these to benefit the victims). Factory owners soon learned that it actually was far more profitable to, say, cover the exposed gearing on the punch press than have to train a new worker to replace yet another one who'd been dragged into the gears and killed. Or, bad ventilation in a tightly-packed spinning mill might result in an outbreak of a respiratory disease, and force the usually-reluctant government to step in and demand better ventilation, so as not to put at risk the health of the whole community.
And this early concept of safety entirely avoided the question of liability, also: a miner injured in a mine or a seaman losing a leg on a ship might, if they were lucky, get the services of a doctor who'd be paid by the owner of the mine or the ship, but the owners would not expect to have to pay for an injury.