Sunday, March 27, 2011

It is what it is

There's a phrase you hear a fair amount in this trade: "It is what it is."  It grates on my nerves.  It serves as the excuse for why things are taking longer than expected.  But, being that I'm often more stressed about jobs than people around me, I sometimes wonder if I shouldn't summon some inner peace and find a way to embrace the philosophy behind that statement.  This economy hasn't softened people's expectations.  It's made reasonable people behave quite unreasonably.  You've probably heard the old business adage—"You can have it cheap, fast, or high quality.  Pick two."  With the slow flow of new construction and the desperation of people in the industry, clients these days want it done free, yesterday, and perfect. 

I heard recently that Washington state's construction jobs have shrunk by 2/3.  Ponder that for a second.  A mere 33% of the people who were working in this industry 3 years ago still have their job.  My glass-is-half-full take on this bad news was that I hoped people who got into this work for the wrong reasons would discover a new rewarding career.  And that has happened in some cases.  But here's another thing that has happened: many people are out there offering (begging?) to do my job for cash, under the table, for less than half of what we have to charge to stay in business.  We really do have slim margins.  Between business insurance, taxes, labor and industries contributions, unemployment insurance, and health benefits, the overhead really can be a liability when you are competing with people who aren't even licensed, bonded, or insured, let alone paying any taxes.  There are quite a few builders who would never consider hiring a finish carpenter who isn't operating completely above board, but there are also many who have a penny-pinching client breathing down their neck about the schedule, while simultaneously having unreasonable expectations for quality.  So feeling backed into a corner, they use Jim The Laid Off Finish Carpenter—he's pleased as punch to work long hours for little pay.  A job is a job.  And though Jim isn't our direct competition, he does have an effect on the general expectations out there.  Every bid we do feels like it has to be tight.  No room for error, no room for a cushion, and sometimes, no room for a profit.

Speed is relative.  This is common sense, right?  Well, imagine a world where a high school track star was beating his own personal best at every race, but his parents were still disappointed because his cousin two states over consistently runs faster.  Or perhaps there's an expert cake decorator known for their creativity and attention to detail, but clients often expect to walk into their shop and walk out with a cake—"Hey, that's how it works at Safeway.  You want me to take my business there?"  I guess my point is that I sometimes feel like a high school track star crossed with a high end cake decorator.  Add to that my own impatience and let's just say I'm prone to...stress out about time.  But now we're getting into the super obnoxious paradigm that's permeated my industry.  Most contractors are still doing bids.  In fact, they are flooded with them (people are shopping around more than ever before).  And we are too, but we secure only a small percentage of these, and sometimes we'll hear we've got the job only a week before it actually commences.  The contractor may have secured the job, but the client has them on a tight schedule—I mean, who doesn't want their home to be done as quickly as possible?  And what is it that they say about shit rolling down hill?  So, even though we've scheduled everyone at jobs for the next month or two, we'll get a call out of the blue asking if three guys can start on Tuesday for a three week job.  No.  Problem.  Grrrrr...

Quality is also relative, of course.  What I've grown to understand about my job is that what separates the high end projects from the "ultra-high end" (as my boyfriend likes to call them) is mostly the high quality materials that you use.  I mean, you're always aiming to form perfect miters, cut tight scribes, and avoid nail holes, so there's not really all that much more "game" you can bring to the ultra-high end jobs—but that doesn't stop the clients from expecting superior workmanship.  They still demand just a bit more from you.  Perhaps no visible nail holes are tolerated and you have to fasten everything with biscuits from behind, or maybe a 1/32" gap on a scribe is 1/32" too big.  These jobs will obviously take more time and thus cost more money.  It's just the nature of high expectations—if it were easy to make everything perfect all the time, then everything would be perfect all the time.

And that's where the real conundrum lies—you cannot get all three?  Try telling that to one of these clients who are demanding as much from their contractors or subcontractors.  You know what they'll say?  "Well, I'm sure I can find another person who WILL give me what I want."  And these days, they may be right.  But it's a skewed perception of how things ought to be.  Sure, there may be some down-and-out contractors just desperate enough to bend over backwards to meet unreasonable demands for the equivalent of $5 an hour or less, but it's an unsustainable model for the industry as a whole.  It reminds me of how I found my first mechanic in my hometown—he left a flyer on my VW rabbit for a free oil change, no strings attached.  Of course, I took advantage of the coupon and he found a couple things wrong with the car (my dad had warned me that was bound to happen).  But he gave me a very reasonable quote for the work and I ended up going back to him for years, even when I moved three hours away.  I found him to be a very honest, good mechanic.  Whenever I did shop the work around to others, he was always on the lower end of pricing.  What kind of a skewed perception would I have if every other mechanic offered to do the work for half of whatever quote I already had?  I may have been tempted to always shop around to find the cheapest possible price for every single repair.  This might have saved me some money in the short term, but in the long term, quality inevitably would have gone down.  That seems to be what's happening around me.  It's the "race to the bottom" up close and personal.  Client's expectations for the better deal just keep increasing, and it's getting more and more difficult to meet them.  Something's gotta give.

It is what it is.  Are these really "words of wisdom"?  What do they tell you except that the person who uttered them has somehow resigned themselves to just accept a situation?  Although it can be grating to hear someone admit this sort of defeat, I do believe that there is some importance in the meaning of this phrase.  Projects are always on some sort of tight budget these days, so I hear over and over again: "Try your best to stay on track and keep things running smoothly.  This bid is tight."  But when something goes wrong and throws you off, you can either beat yourself up about it and lose sleep or you can try to regroup and go forth to make the best of a bad situation—it is what it is.  Inevitably, a project can fall behind schedule pretty easily, usually before we even arrive on site.  There is pressure from all sides:  from our boss, the contractor, the homeowner, and the other subcontractors, to try and "catch up"—but there is only so much control you can exert over the situation.  You can work long hours and weekends, or add extra crew-members.  Sometimes, you actually can catch up.  But sometimes, it's just not going to happen; it is what it is.  In the end, the one thing we have the most control over is quality.  We're set up with the skills, tools, and brains to create truly beautiful finish carpentry.  But, if the budget and schedule do not allow for truly masterful carpentry, what are you going to do?  You have to stare that tiny 1/32" gap or puttied nail hole right in the eye and think to yourself, "it is what it is." 

This should give you a good idea of where I am right now.  Though I have always hated that stupid phrase, I do feel I should somehow embrace it.  Because, for better or for worse, there is very little in this industry (alas, in this world) that I have control over.  When I really stop to think about it, it's not such a bad thing to admit that "it is what it is." Or is it?