v  Learn from other peoples mistakes.

     v Be proactive; not reactive.

v  If you can’t build it right; don’t bother.

v  There’s no such thing as a half-hour lunch…

v  If it ain’t broke; don’t fix it: but if it never worked right in the first place, it probably isn’t broken: it was just done wrong.

v  Less is more, - expensive.

v  Take care that offering the solution doesn’t become the problem.

v  Bosses are seldom right: that’s why they’re bosses.

v  The smaller the payment, the harder you will work for it.

v  You don’t always get what you pay for, especially if you don’t understand what you’re buying.

v  The writing is always on the wall: if you can’t see it, maybe you need glasses.

v  Difficult things in the world must needs have their beginnings in the easy; big things must needs have their beginnings in the small.

                                                - Lao Tzu

As I have said, workers happy in their work yield a better product. That sounds simplistic, but it is a concept that has been complicated by years of change in peoples’ attitudes and work ethics. In general, few people enjoy doing work at all, especially work they dislike; they either associate work with the sensation of pain, or equate work as antithetical to pleasure. This is an elementary Freudian observation; however, its significance must not be underestimated. What it denotes is that an individual’s avoidance of displeasure must be overcome in order to for him to become a productive worker: otherwise, he will do as little as possible. Think of the saying ‘better a bad day of fishing than a good day’s work’ and you will begin to understand man’s natural sedentary leanings. While that is no great epiphany, it begs the question ‘what are the factors that caused and are perpetuating what Freud might say is an infantile response to life’s obligations? Before you answer that, you must put the question into context: i.e., how is this relevant to present conditions in the American labor market in particular? The answer lies within our socio-political landscape. It must first be understood that conditions have changed drastically over the past fifty years, and will continue to change. Therefore, it will be helpful to compare present day conditions with those of the past.

Today’s native workers begrudgingly slog through their quotidian as if they were doing someone a favor. You can see it in their eyes and mannerisms. They work slowly, take as many breaks as possible, and complain all the time. Their level of skill and quality is invariably lower than it needs to be, and they likely do not care about what they produce, only that they earn a day’s pay. Is this a work ethic imported by immigrant labor as well? Often it is not; only an individual may be compelled to adopt poor work ethics just to fit in. For example, a hard-working youngster in the union will be discouraged by work rules and other workers against putting in an ‘honest day’s work;[3]’ oxymoronic and antithetical terms for organized labor. Production rates are strictly enforced within organized labor: overachievers are discouraged; perceived as making others look bad, and instill the apprehension that owners will take notice of their efforts, and wonder why everyone doesn’t put out the same. This ethic doesn’t lend itself to improving rates of production in any industry. On the other hand, union workers tend to be better trained than their private sector counterparts: they simply may not work if they don’t have the skills; however, union schools don’t’ really focus on the high-end residential sector, as there is not a great union presence or constituency there, but should a private company become large enough, land a huge commission, or work in one of ‘their’ buildings or areas, the union will start paying attention, and will likely present a contract to the builder. In other words, residential contractors can have their piece, so long as it doesn’t get too big. Otherwise, the union wants to stick their beak in.

I like to compare today’s average worker and old-school practitioners to the movie supporting actors of oldHollywoodand modernHollywoodextras. Take a close look at the actors in the background of an old movie: they don’t just stand around looking tacky; they act their role to the letter, no matter how insignificant: they put out. They may or may not have had training, but it’s hard to tell. It sure looks like they were trained. They are legitimate supporting actors. In today’s movies, extras are merely used as motif; to fill up the scenery. I.e., they aren’t really supporting actors, just eye-candy. They have no formal training. Overtime, the quality of performance by these ‘extras’ began to flag. Directors realized this, and soon began creating graphic backdrops of peopled landscapes, which evidently did not cause an outcry for the reestablishment of live extras. In today’s movies, these one dimensional landscapes are being replaced by digital effigies. It’s almost surprising that the Screen Actors Guild has not picketed movie sets with an over abundance of vector trash. It’s disheartening to see this, and makes one nostalgic for the old-days. The residential construction business seems to have taken a similar path: in the old-days, whether you were union trained or not, you needed to be skilled to be a tradesman who could put out, and you were held accountable for your work. You couldn’t ‘skate’ like you can today; people would notice right away. Nowadays, contractors are lucky to find one or two mechanics with a decent set of skills on the same project. They will do most of the brain work, and the rest of the crew will perform the mindless grunt work. Theses crews, who should be skilled, often are not, and are a considerable drain on productivity, as they frequently don’t have the requisite skills. Why can’t they simply perform the role they have advertised as being qualified to do?

You might say this is an unqualified insinuation; that there are no statistics to support this theory. However; if you take a look behind the walls during the demolition phase of a project you can get a pretty good idea of the workmanship on the pre-existing installation. Tear-out of work installed in the last fifty years will evidence that quality steadily deteriorated over that time. Recent tear-outs show that much work done in the past decade is utterly inferior to installations beginning in the post-war period. We judge the acumen of a mechanic by his works. There is no place to hide from the trained eye. If managers and supervisors knew what things to look for, and actually looked, perhaps quality control wouldn’t be such an epidemic hazard, and we wouldn’t feel so nostalgic when work is done correctly.

The lost art of working with one’s hands: some will applaud recognition of this notion as they embrace technological advances that lead to the replacement of human creations. Most advocates of advancement in manufacturing technology are those who stand to gain the most from them - business owners: some workers surely don’t approve, as technology results in loss of jobs. Other workers are nostalgic for the days when most of their work was hand-done. Clearly, the workplace of fifty years ago bears little resemblance to today’s workplace: the men are still the same, but now the tools they use do much of the work they used to do by hand, and much product that used to be handmade is fabricated in factories and then sent to the site. We now know that such developments increase worker’s rate of production[1]: good for the owners, but is it good for the men? I doubt it. I believe there is a dehumanizing effect, and devaluation of worker’s abilities within the notion of replacing them with machines. An unskilled worker can now use a machine to do work that otherwise might require a highly skilled tradesman. Few workers will appreciate how well someone can use a machine, but they will always celebrate good old-fashioned hand workmanship, which ironically they have more control over. I believe that the creeping modernization of much of the construction production industry creates an underlying melancholy in worker’s attitudes toward their occupation. This notion was anticipated as far back as the nineteenth-century, and is continually revisited in the present day. Even in the pre-digital twentieth-century a dim prognosis was entertained:

It (the book) proposes that new tools and technologies cause social changes; that they shift ways of production, possessions, wealth and power; yet though the inevitable logic of new technologies, offering new advantages for labor saving and profit making is willingly accepted on pragmatic intellectual terms, it is stubbornly opposed in the emotional sphere, where man clings to obsolete standards and empty conventions of the past, unapproachable by logical argument, and often against his best interests.[2]

The implication being that technological advancement will run rough-shod over any human emotional response, which it indeed has. This statement also alludes to the senseless nostalgia some people hold for any of the ‘old-ways’ a reactionary sentiment antithetical to any sort of progress. Thus, any reference to the old-ways of doing things is classified as nostalgic, and not relevant to the corporate ethic that prioritizes machines over men. Accordingly, it would follow that many workers cannot be effective and happy at the same time. The choice has been made for them.

The traditional relationship between architects and contractors has long been regarded by many as being adversarial in nature.[1] Though both may no longer understand how or why this is so, it is an encumbrance on countless projects that inhibits the cooperation needed to build a healthy project. Some architects will be reluctant to back down from a standoffish attitude, which can make for a rough-ride. Frequent dissatisfactions with builders in their past have made them gun-shy. This was not always the case. Architects really didn’t become involved with home building until about the 1850’s. Owners and builders got along just fine without them. Some of the perceived shortcomings of these early architects are still sensed by today’s builders:

Architecture was not practiced as a business but was considered an art, and it was carried out by gentlemen, not by journeymen, and more often than not by skilled but untrained amateurs – dilettantes.

Even some of today’s trained architects; and especially interior designers, bear a striking resemblance to the nineteenth century dilettante.

Houses were built one at a time, and since the architect was not a contractor, he was not in a position to introduce substantive innovation to the building process.

There were not established precedents or standards for architects to follow: every project was one-off, and the builder was calling the shots, as he was the expert. Even with standards at architect’s disposal, contractors will always be at odds with architects who imply or detail means and methods to their designs’ i.e., tell the contractor how to do his job.

Unlike the cabinetmaker, who controlled all aspects of production, from building to marketing, the architect was primarily a draftsman who prepared drawings for work carried out by others.

This reductive view of an architect’s purpose they are since forever trying to live down: that they have no place in the building process, and are frequently met with resentment should they voice their opinion.

As a result he developed theoretical knowledge that was based not on construction, but on a study of history and historical precedents. In any case, architects were then, as they are now, interested more in the appearance of buildings than in their functioning. They were not prepared, by either training or inclination, to involve themselves in such mechanical matters as plumbing and heating[2]

And still today, degree wielding architects seem to be taught little in the way of building practicum: which they regard as the stuff of engineering, of which few architects pay attention to. Nevertheless, they continue to detail engineering work for which they are seldom qualified or licensed to do. The tacit understanding of an architect is that in order to master his craft he should, in fact, be literate in building means and methods. Without such knowledge, there is a tendency for him to be perceived as the mid-nineteenth century artsy sideman.

Architects in the residential sector are a minority. Despite the growth of expenditures in the residential sector, only 5% of architectural firm revenue is from the design of single family residences, and only 11% of these billings were from private individuals,[3] who largely comprise residential construction revenue. It is interesting that such a small group of architectural firms can generate such considerable consumer spending figures.

Having positive relationships with the project architect and architects in general is a critical requirement for the longevity of your company, for architects and designers are invariably the source of most of your work. Once a general contractor gets in an architect’s good graces, the architect will likely become very loyal to him, because dependable contractors are rare. The architect will offer him his best work, and negotiated contracts whenever possible. You should hope to build a repertoire of architects with whom you have established working relationships, for repeat work, and referrals. Not everyone subscribes to this dictum, and resultantly, architect/contractor relationships can be extremely strained, especially when there is no incentive to get along, which there often is not: self-interest being the inhibition. Because of a predisposition to adversity the majority of architect/contractor relationships result in divorce after the first project.

Generally, your first experience with an architect will be on a project that you were awarded by either referral, or as competitive bidder. Whatever the case, there will be a feeling out phase, and subsequently a relationship that will continue for at least the remainder of the project. For architects whom you would like to get repeat work from, you will make extra efforts to satisfy. For others, you may just want to make it through the project. Finally, there will be architects whom you may find no common ground with, such that you may want to terminate a contract. Your relationship with the architect on a project will tend to vacillate. In the beginning of a project, most architects seem reserved, or reluctant to be optimistic. An architect’s level of contentment is relative to how much he is getting his way; some of which is reasonable – build the project in a timely and workmanlike manner, and some unreasonable. Apart from that, they tend to be malcontent: ultimately dissatisfied and discontent with the industry as a whole. This is the chip which they carry on their shoulder. The formation of this distinction isn’t always under your control, but there are things you can do to influence either sentiment. It helps to understand your architect’s position in relation to you and the client before you begin to negotiate, or become familiar. Typically, the architect is the client’s agent, and in that capacity he might be conflicted in terms of behaving graciously toward someone who he is expected by the client to control, so don’t be surprised if he doesn’t appear too chummy in your early interactions with him, and especially in subsequent negotiating.

Care should be taken in your dealings with your architect, especially when the client is present, such as at job meetings as they often are. At such times, both contractor and architect, whether consciously or not, may engage in garnering the client’s favor, often at the expense of the other team member, so to gain negotiating advantage. For instance, it is common for an architect and contractor to argue over whether or not a change order is legitimate, with the expected outcome likely to leave one of the parties blameful of negligence. Such discussions can quickly become malevolent. The discussion may be necessary, but it need not take place before the client, unless it is mutually irresolvable: airing out dirty laundry, as it were. Unpleasant discussions should be undertaken with discretion. You should endeavor to have any change order approved by the project architect before it is presented to the client, because there are few architects who will approve a change order upon first sight. Otherwise, you run the risk of a possibly embarrassing negotiation process in front of the client. There will be revisions. If there is disagreement, it should be handled in private. Once a change order is negotiated, it can then be presented to the client by the architect. Only as a last resort should the client sit in judgment of the validity and accountability of a change order: this is not his bailiwick. Besides, more often than not, he will side with his architect who is programmed to represent his best interests, even if it means being wrong-headed.

In short, you want to be on as good terms as possible with the architect or designer; whether you like him or not, or whether or not you desire future work from him. Do what you can to keep him happy without compromising your own interests. Find out what his likes and dislikes are and use this information to your advantage. You will find many architects aren’t receptive, or simply aren’t interested in nurturing a relationship with you. This is typical, and no cause for alarm. A last word: one can’t underestimate the advantage of being well liked by the architect. This mere condition can set the stage for future interactions and negotiations to your benefit. A lot of it has to do with luck and chemistry, but it can’t hurt to try.

A close relative of the architect, but certainly not a replacement for him, is the interior designer. It is very common for an interior designer to detail a project, using an architect of record in order to make the job legal. This is often done so to keep the design budget to a minimum. Except for a few seasoned firms, these projects invariably betray the fact that the architect of record did not or will not:

a)      Detail the architectural components of the work.

b)      Detail the MEPs (often done without an engineer).

c)      Monitor the construction of the work.

d)     Manage quality control and code issues.

e)      Administrate the contract in a general sense.

Nevertheless, they continue to prosper, and are a fact of life for the building industry. This arrangement is an area of concern for general contractors because:

§  Inferior design documents will translate to losses of time and money.

§  A non-licensed detailer can put the builder and owner at risk.

§  Interior designers who detail architectural component typically do not have an architect’s degree, license, or expertise, thus doing the industry, architects especially, a disservice.

Therefore; builders must take the necessary precautions when constructing projects with only an architect of record. If interior designers actually did involve the architect of record in the design and construction process, perhaps there would be less incidence of project failure. Because design fees are so competitive, the architect of record is summoned only as a last resort. Naturally, if clients didn’t skimp on design budgets, they would have an architect design the project, leaving the designer to his business of aesthetics.

When Mies van der Rohe coined the aphorism ‘less is more,’ he was referring to his dogma of an orthodox Minimalism; however, his observation has other context:

-Less is more - work

-Less costs more

-The less there is, the more (regrettably) defects stand out

Let’s define these parameters:

The details inherent to the current lexicon of Modernist and Minimalist designers and architects dictates a high level of exactitude that requires more skill, greater clarity, and perfection of point, line and, plane, the geometric basis of these schools of thought. ‘Straight, even, plumb, parallel, and level’ are all terms associated with degrees of exactitude. There is no such thing as ‘straighter,’ ‘more level,’ or ‘more plumb’: these are mere equivocations. When everything shows, a thing is, or it is not straight, level and plumb. Modernist and Minimalist designs feature sharply lines and bold geometric planes as the defining elements of space, with little or no detail other than a quirk or reveal, here and there. Think of the architect’s inspection as a ‘strip-search.’ Adornment – trim and finishes, which historically is a means for a contractor to cover up mistakes, is eschewed in deference to severity and simplicity. The following elements of building are not part of the high-end Modernist vocabulary:

§  Molding: base, casing, cove, chair rail, cornice, shoe, etc

§  Fillers

§  Scribes

§  Caulking

§  Flange

The above means and methods all give a contractor the ability to hide crudely executed substrates, poor jointing methods, and defects in general.

Look at the corners and spaces behind removed crown moldings and base boards and you will see just how little attention is typically given these details by builders. If these spaces were to be finished and painted, they would seldom hold a line. It is just this severity and simplicity that is the bane of the production oriented contractor, who ordinarily pays little heed to such nuances. It is always easier to achieve clarity with manufactured products, than it is with hand-tooled: specifically, walls and ceilings, whereas automated machinery does not stray from the datum. The concept of perfection of point, line, and plane is anathema to most builders. They either can’t produce it, or they can’t do so efficiently. To do this builders must take great pains; sometimes moving at a fraction of the pace they are used to, and even then, may fail to hit the mark.

For example, the edge of a long soffit in the ceiling of a school can vary considerably without anyone taking notice, whereas the same detail in a high-end residence must be kept within strict tolerances: the contractor who did the soffit in a public school could never install the same work satisfactorily in a residence, and the high-end contractor could not compete with the low-end contractor’s price for the school, especially his cost of labor: same detail, yet completely different ramifications. Consider their methods:

The school builder may construct the soffit using a 48” level projecting a level line along the length of it, or simply measure down from the ceiling at a few points. The framing may go very quickly. He may even use a laser level, yet still frame the soffit crookedly. Once the soffit is dry-walled, the corner bead may be applied with a mallet and crimper: an attachment method that does not consider alignment. This method will always yield a crooked line.

For the same soffit in a residence, the contractor will likely use a laser level or jet line to align the framing. For a corner bead, he will not use the everyday extrusion, which as opposed to a sharp edged bead, has a rounded corner edge that invariably yields an unpleasant result. He will use the laser level or a jet-line again, to align this corner bead. He will likely use ribbed panel nails to attach the bead, as opposed to a crimper, or drywall screws, which invariably twist the bead off its axis as it secures it to the substrate. The end-product should be a perfectly straight knife edge detail.

What is the point of this comparison between high and low-end? That the criteria of what constitutes standard levels of practice have become so skewed, that most contractors have no idea of their legitimate standing in the hierarchy of performance. Much of what they consider high-end work is merely standard practice; much of what they consider standard practice is far below any measure of acceptable tolerance.