Who do you trust? Who trusts you? The entire construction industry is built on these two simple questions. Without trust, without the belief that people will do what they say they will and can do, the whole industry collapses. We trust the subcontractor will show up on time. We trust the GC can execute the design. We trust the architect has worked through all the pesky design details. And we trust the engineer has anticipated all of the loads and done the calculations correctly.

The most honest person in the world who can’t manage a crew is not trustworthy in the construction world.

We trust all of these people and their talents, and without that trust the entire industry would collapse. The result of that reliance on trust is two-fold. First, we tend to work with the same people over and over again because we know what we’re going to get. We’re familiar with their capabilities and understand their constraints, which we can work around. The upside of that is the more trustworthy you are, the broader your reach and the greater the likelihood you can expand your business.

We often talk of trust in terms of truth-telling honesty, reliability and other personal characteristics of what we would consider a “good” person. But trusting someone in a business relationship also means you trust their ability to manage people and resources in a way that is efficient and predictable. The most honest person in the world who can’t manage a crew is not trustworthy in the construction world.

The second result of an industry entirely built on trust is that it is slow to change. If you are uncertain about a product, such as a new rainscreen fastening system, or a service, such as an automated final-mile distribution model, you’re going to be slow to adopt it. You’ll wait till it’s proven and has shown its trustworthiness.

In our industry, we like our well-worn paths because we’re confident in our success and we can build a business based on that success. Experimental ideas bring in too much potential for chaos, and that is the death of any company in our industry.

There is, though, a chaos agent in our midst that undermines all the trust we build with our business relationships and they with us. Price. The industry’s reliance on low-price bidding undermines the very foundation of the industry itself. It strikes at the heart of trust because we are pushed to accept the lowest (or a lower) price even when we don’t trust the outcome or the people involved.

I would like to see research on this, but I would be willing to bet that 99.9% of conflict in construction comes about because we trusted someone to do something but because we had to get a lower price they were actually incapable of delivering on what we trusted they would do.

There’s a lot to unpack with that idea, including improved communications helping to build trust, but the idea is that price and trust work in opposition to each other.

Think of trust as value. With trust, we build value. Our clients get more for their money because we are trustworthy. But price lies in opposition to value and if our clients want a lower price, that means they are also asking for lower value. And what they’re really telling you is they don’t completely trust you. You have not convinced them of the value of your service or product.

The only way to do that is to work over time to build up trust so they will begin to value you and move away from undermining the process with a focus on price. Companies that can demonstrate their value earn trust and can stop competing on price.

There is a great scene in the James Michener novel “Chesapeake” that serves as a model for the metal construction industry. A Chesapeake Bay waterman piloting a skipjack comes across some day trippers out of Annapolis who have run their sailboat aground. He offers to get them back on their way, but they’re dubious that his little sloop will be able to get their large sailboat unstuck.

Doctors get paid for knowing how, carpenters get paid for doing.

The captain offers to do it for $50, and the day trippers finally agree. He then directs a young crew member to take one end of a line, swim to the other boat and tie it to the very top of the mast. The agile crew member completes the task quickly and the captain secures the other end of the line to the skipjack. Then, he sails out perpendicular to the sailboat, pulling the mast down toward the water. Just as the gunwale is about to touch water, the boat pops free and the task is completed. Simple.

In fact, the day trippers feel it was too simple and are reluctant to cough up the $50. The captain replied with words that every person in our industry should memorize. “It’s not in the doin’. It’s in the knowin’ how.” The day trippers paid up.

All of our construction pricing is based on the amount of time it takes to complete a project. We project our costs for installation almost entirely on how long it takes to erect the steel, install the roofing, pour the concrete, hang and tape the drywall. Every project is broken down into discreet tasks that have an effort-related element to it. Additional services, such as engineering, are based on time involved in the work, so even the obviously “knowin’ how” part of the work is priced on the “doin.”

In short, we get paid for doing the work, not for knowing how to do the work.

Another quick anecdote. When I was a carpenter back in the day, we often joked that after eight or 10 years we’d know everything we needed to know about carpentry and could truly call ourselves carpenters. But, if we spent the same amount of time in college and medical school, we would be able to call ourselves “doctors.” Doctors get paid for knowing how, carpenters get paid for doing. Granted, there is a bit of difference in technicality and responsibility between a doctor and a carpenter, but the main point is to show how much we undervalue trades people.

So, how do you get paid for knowing how? For most in the construction industry it’s by finding a better, more efficient way of doing the task. You discover a shortcut and you can still charge the rate at the traditional time. That only holds, though, for as long is takes the industry to catch up with your best practice.

Another way is through the design-build process. By getting involved in the design and engineering stage of a project, contractors and trades can see their knowledge get rewarded. It’s essential to be able to articulate how that involvement betters the entire construction process, and contractors should be adept at saying what they bring to the table.

Can you do that? Can you explain in a clear way the value of the knowledge you bring so that you can be paid for it? If not, you’ll only ever get paid for your effort, not your brain.

Five minutes later the bow-chaser, neatly slung by its train-loops, side-loops, pommelion and muzzle, floated gently over the Sophie’s fo’c’sle within half an inch of its ideal resting-place.

Oh, I do so love a good sea yarn, and the Patrick O’Brian series of Jack Aubrey novels is among the best. You may know it better from the Russell Crowe movie, Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World.

This sentence is pulled at random from the novel and completely indicative of two countervailing issues. First, this guy O’Brian knows his nautical stuff. Second, the reader digging into this world can be at a loss about what the exact heck is going on here.

Let me ask a few questions.

• Do you know what a bow-chaser is?
• Do you know what train-loops are? (I’m not even certain I should put that sentence in the plural.)
• Or a pommelion?

On other nearby pages, I ran into these words:

• Puddening. Definition: A bunch of soft material to prevent chafing between spars (you know what those are, right?) or the like.
• Breeched. Definition: Something you do to cannon on a sailing vessel that I’m still uncertain about, but it does not involve pants or slacks.
• Frapped. Definition: Another thing you do to cannon on a sailing vessel that is hard to explain but clearly very specific and definitive. I know this word from earning my Pioneering merit badge in Boy Scouts. Is it the same thing?
• Sweeps. Definition: Oh. Oh. I got this. Oars.
• “Trice up. Lay out.” Definition: A command given to the crew that involves raising the sheets — sails to us land lubbers — and something else that I can’t figure out.

Okay, that was fun, but my point is to talk about jargon in communication, and there is no other environment more jargonly than sailing. Who else would call rope a “line?” By the way, “larboard” is what we now call “port.” Forgive me. This game could go on forever. And ever. Don’t believe me? Here’s a link to a Wikipedia  entry for nautical terms that has nearly 900 entries.

So, what’s a poor writer in 21st Century America supposed to do?

Rule #1: Avoid jargon.

Rule #2: Avoid jargon.

Rule #3: Avoid talking about sailing. Except to sailors. And they just love this stuff. The longest dinner of your life will be the dinner you sit next to someone who loves sailing. The second worst dinner companion is a carpenter. Who really wants to hear about “S4S?”

Here’s my suggestion for those of us who have to communicate with the real world. Just after you complete your hunt for cliches, set sail on a jargon cruise. Hoist high the sheets, let the braces do something or another, and let out the blah, blah, blah.