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Building by a builder; practical and economical considerations for the man about to build

Benjamin A Howes · 1914 · Scanned text · Free in the US

46,627 words · about 3 h 16 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
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About this book

Author
Benjamin A Howes
Language
English
Published
1914
Length
46,627 words · about 3 h 16 min
Sections
11 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain in the United States · PD-US by publication date

 

Contents (11)
  1. Preface about 1 min
  2. Contents about 2 min
  3. CHAPTER I How to Approach the Question of Building about 22 min
  4. Chapter II F« about 22 min
  5. Chapter III about 27 min
  6. Chapter IV about 21 min
  7. Chapter V about 21 min
  8. Chapter VI about 15 min
  9. Chapter VII about 15 min
  10. Chapter VIII about 28 min
  11. Chapter IX about 22 min

Continue:

Preface

This little book is addressed to the man who is about to build his own house for the first time. It does not seek to take the place of a popular manual, but aims to answer his first questions, to suggest to him the matters he ought to ponder and settle for himself, and the others on which he will need expert advice. Its principal claim to originality lies in its effort to help him to a definite intelligent choice of possibilities.

The one point where the homebuilder calls for aid is the point where he must decide between several courses, all of which invite. Any amount of building lore is spread before him; half of it full of detailed application to modern problems, but frankly in the service of specific manufactured articles; half of it authoritative, colorless, carefully impartial — too impartial to be of use. Comparisons are odious; yet practical building is impossible without comparing, sifting and rejecting. No building material and no type of construction is the best in every situation; yet vi PREFACE

for every situation some definite combination is best. The homebuilder's anxious question is not, "What is there to choose from?" It is, "Which should I choose?"

These essays do not pretend to cover all the types of cases; but they do aim to indicate some typical problems and solutions, and points of divergence leading to other solutions. The book means, in short, to help the homebuilder to lay his own course in a crowded, shifting fairway.

I wish to record, therefore, my gratitude to the architects and fellow-engineers who have generously given me of their experience, and to the manufacturers' representatives who have entered with me into frank discussion and exposition of building conditions. B. A. H.

Contents

CHAPTER

I. How TO APPROACH THE QUESTION OF PAGE BUILDING . . ... . . 3

The Human Equation and the Building Game — The Usual Types of Contracts, their Advantages and Dangers — The Right Approach to Architect and Contractor — What to Do First.

CHAPTER I How to Approach the Question of Building

ONCE upon a time there was a famous author who wanted to build a house — to build a home, as the real-estate advertisements put it. He had plans drawn by an architect and got bids for its construction in permanent and fireproof material. When he heard the amounts he was shocked. "But that's half as much again as I have allowed!" he cried. So it was decided to build in cheaper construction and "by day's labor," with the direct supervision of the author's family, thus saving the contractor's profit. When the house was finished — and it was very attractive, even though it would never be a family homestead, because it would hardly last long enough for that — and the famous author was happily ensconced, he was asked: "And was the house built for your original allowance ? " " Half of it was ! " replied the famous author.

As regularly as the return of spring and fall every man who has dreams of building a home, encouraged thereto by a swarm of little magazines, begins to plan to beat the building game. If he tries it he will be lucky to do as well as the hero of our opening tale. Hope springs eternal in the human breast, however, and a new home builder is born every minute.

A high-minded gentleman bought some land from other very honorable gentlemen who were developing a highly restricted community where they owned their own homes. They were also backing a building company to erect houses on it, and they patronized a talented and apparently reputable architect who had drawn the plans for most of the houses. The first-named gentleman thought he couldn't do better than accept their recommendation of their building company and pet architect, especially as these latter were willing to build just the house he wanted at a price he could afford to pay. It was to be built for the cost of materials and labor plus a specified percentage, but was not to exceed a certain sum. He didn't scrutinize the exact terms of this guaranty very closely, perhaps; but then the plans had been very carefully worked out, and by this time they were all friends and he and his wife had been charmingly welcomed by the little community.

When the house was well under way, however, and some of the material going into it seemed to the owner very defective, the architect didn't get round to insisting that the contractor should replace it. And when the cost of the house ran up and up, many thousands over the original estimate, there seemed to be no way of exacting satisfaction. The contractor appealed to the architect, and the architect simply faded away. And the original honorable gentlemen of the select community— why, he couldn't sue them; not if he expected to live there, anyway.

In the end the straightforward man who had been above doubting the responsibility of his new friends, realizing that his guaranty was nothing more than a gentlemen's agreement, and unable to keep the house which had run him deeply into debt, made arrangements to sell. An expert whom he called in found that the house was really worth nearly what he had paid for it. He had not been cheated, except into undertaking a proposition twice as costly as he could afford. His own lack of experience had prevented his recognizing as a forty-thousand-dollar house what had been promised to him for twenty thousand. He had taken an unsupported estimate seriously, without investigating the business reliability of either architect or contractors.

There is just one way to beat the building game, but that is a way which the canny American consistently refuses to take. He has heard plenty of such tales as those above, but he is perfectly sure that no one is going to get the better of him - rather the other way about. And it is just the canny American who is worst stung. A very astute real-estate man in a Western city decided to build a large house for himself on some land he owned. He was determined to have a house of a certain size and of a certain excellent and solid type of construction, but not to spend too much money for it. None of your extravagant commissions for him! So he found a young architect who was willing to shade his percentage a good bit, and who worked very hard indeed to simplify details and cut down all non-essentials, though keeping all the other points demanded. The specifications were duly drawn up by the young architect and sent out for bids. The result was curious. One very well-known builder declined to put in a figure, without comment, Another reputable contractor put in a bid much higher than the owner proposed to go, but intimated politely that he hardly hoped to do business with him "under those specifications." Two or three other obscure firms, who had pressed for the opportunity, bid somewhere near the owner's ultimatum.

The astute real-estate man thought he was making a good bargain in taking up with the low bidder; but from that day to the present the job has been in hot water. The principal sufferer has been the architect; for when the owner has clamored at something he didn't like about the house the contractor has retorted: "Not called for by the specifications!" or "Nothing in the specifications to forbid that!" And there wasn't. The experienced firms had seen that you could "drive a coach and six" through the loosely drawn specifications of the young architect, and that an irresponsible contractor would certainly greatly underbid them and then do shoddy work to his heart's content. Honestly built — the only way they were willing to work — the house would have cost more than the owner would pay; so they let it alone. In the end the owner will probably blackguard the architect, get into a lawsuit with the contractor — which he will lose

— and start all over again; but he will deserve his troubles.

A prosperous business man and his wife proposed to build a large house in which to end their days. It was to be a real home in their old home town, and was to be "just as she wanted it." They, too, had a young architect, who was obliging and conscientious. They, too, wanted to build a sixty-thousand-dollar house for forty thousand dollars. They were much more businesslike, however; they made none of the mistakes just chronicled. They found a contractor, with a reputation for skill and honesty, who was needing work and willing to meet them halfway. The specifications were properly drawn — partly, to be sure, because the builder wanted "to do a fine job " and worked with the architect to get the best construction for the least money; but the owners insisted on a very low figure for the house

— so low that it covered practically the bare cost of the job. The builder had no intention of dropping the standard of his work; but he foresaw that human nature, as he had observed it in the somewhat autocratic pair, would work on his side. He made it clear to them that all details must be exactly what they wanted before signing the contract; that changes or extras could be inserted only on order signed by both owner and architect, for a sum specified in each order. Nevertheless, as the house developed, the prospective mistress saw innumerable improvements possible. She would have them all. She did not like the extra charges; but, as it turned out, the " extras" she authorized were the only source of profit to the builder.

On the whole, it may be said that these last homebuilders did well. They got exactly what they wanted, in good construction, at a fair price; but the incident shows the difficulties under which the conscientious builder — and there are a few — suffers. Failing the extras, he could have either lost money on the work or refused to take it at that figure. The owners then doubtless would have closed with a less responsible firm, who would have "skinned the job" to make their profit. If these homebuilders had been willing to trust their architect and builder — as at heart they really did — they could have got the same results with less friction by building their house at "cost plus percentage," which usually implies the right to make changes without extra charge.

io BUILDING: BY A BUILDER

Under the present system of letting contracts, the architect prepares plans, including working plans, and detailed specifications for the work; these plans and specifications are submitted to a group of building contractors — sometimes as many as twelve to twenty. Some of these are probably well known in that particular architect's office; some are known to the owner; some have asked, either from owner or architect, the privilege of bidding.

The common custom is to bid a certain lump sum, which represents the estimated cost to the contractor plus his margin for profit. Sometimes he figures on doing all the work himself; but he usually has obtained bids for special parts of the work from subcontractors — such as for the heating, plumbing, electric-lighting, hardwood floors, painting, and so on. In an elaborate house the ramifications may be more minute. These subcontractors' bids represent some elements in his cost; to them will be added all the work done by his own workmen, and the proportionate office and travelling expenses. This lump-sum form of contract, however, is not invariable.

Another form is the cost-plus-percentage contract, by which the architect's part is the same,

TO APPROACH THE QUESTION n

but the contractor does the work for its cost to him plus a percentage on the cost, varying from 7^ to 15 per cent. In this case, of course, the owner is supposed to be furnished with complete vouchers for all expenditures. A variation on the cost plus percentage, much in vogue among simple-minded owners, is the day's work plan, by which the owner pays, through the contractor, for the labor and materials employed, plus 10 per cent, on the cost of the latter.

The objection to the old lump-sum form of contract is, of course, that it offers a premium on " skinning the job." Some contractor will surprise and delight the owner with a low bid, thus securing the contract — unless the architect objects — trusting to his own devious methods to wrest a profit from construction as cheap as he can get the architect to accept. The casual wanderer in these fields will say at once "the dishonest contractor" will do this; but in truth it has become almost an understood procedure in the trade, forced upon the contractor by the owner's usual insistence on giving the work to the lowest bidder, and by the architect's tendency to plan a house more elaborate than can be well built for the appropriation. The tendency of the contractor to get below the specifications when he can and the consequent necessity for coercion and police work on the part of the architect are absolutely logical results. The contractor is always working, though the architect or his inspector sees only part of what is going on.

It is pretty well understood that, even with the most careful specifications and the most rigid attitude on the part of the architect, the contractor can cheat if he wants to. Some dissatisfied owners are inclined to suspect their architects of collusion; but that is a mistake. It can probably be said with truth that there are no corrupt architects— or practically none; but there are some weak-kneed ones. Plenty of artistic temperaments will accept more or less shoddy work rather than fight it out with a blustering contractor. And they, of course, reflect with truth that it is all the owner's fault, anyway, because of his wanting to get a big house in return for a small outlay.

The great objection to the cost-plus-percentage contract in the mind of the layman is his expectation that the irresponsible contractor will run up the cost in order to increase his percentage. This, however, is what happens least often. In this case the contractor is not forced, as under the lump-sum contract, to get his profit as it were by stealth. It is presumed that he will be allowed by the owner a fair price for good work.

This understanding, however, opens the door to certain trade customs which generally prevail, though not among all the firms of highest grade. In the first place, costs are seldom returned to the owner as original vouchers. It is rather the habit of the contractor to "put in a statement," in which materials and labor are set down at a fair retail price indeed, but not exactly what the contractor is paying.

Exactly the same practice is followed in the day's-work form, where the owner pays for materials and labor according to the contractor's accounts. The latter, however, has probably hired these workmen at a price giving him a profit of 25 to 38 per cent, on their wages; and is getting his regular discounts from the material men besides.

The only thoroughly straight and satisfactory arrangement, under the cost-plus-percentage form of contract, is to have it clearly understood whether or not the contractor is giving the owner the benefit of all his discounts. If he agrees to do so he buys the materials — as the owner could not buy them — pays for them, and sends the owner the original voucher from the man who got the money — not a copy. He also turns in the original time-sheet — or labor payroll — signed either by the laborers themselves or by the foreman and timekeeper on the job, showing hours of labor and rate of payment for each man. He may also make an agreed-upon charge for office work, personal expenses, and so on — either a fixed sum or a small percentage charge. When this plan is fully lived up to it is the ideal one, both for owner and builder, reducing the possibility of disputes to a minimum and insuring, as no other does, a good quality of work. When it is combined with the stipulation of an "upset price," beyond which the contractor must meet all costs, it would seem that the owner is absolutely protected. Still another variation is the "cost-plus-a-premium" form, in which the amount of the contractor's compensation is fixed beforehand.

Some architects occasionally recommend the plan of several separate contracts, let on a competitive basis, for carpenter work, masonry, plastering, painting, and so on, with the idea of saving the general contractor's profit on these contracts;

but this expectation is mostly illusory. In the first place, this method of building requires a highly competent and well-salaried clerk-of-theworks, who must carefully watch all operations; and the continual disputes as to responsibility and mutual interference between different contractors, with the consequent loss of time, usually eat up the rest of the saving.

Moreover, it is highly probable that even the competitive bids given to an owner are appreciably higher than a general contractor could obtain, the separate contractors anticipating the usual conflicts as to time, and so on, and recouping themselves in advance. Any one who has had to adjudicate between dawdling painters who said they were waiting for the plasterers to finish, and plasterers who in turn accused carpenters of keeping them back, and carpenters who "couldn't set the trim until it was painted," knows the evil possibilities of this situation. If the owner is prepared to spend all his own time on the job, to ward off every possibility of confusion in the order of operations, he may come out all right; but, unless building is for him a pastime for his leisure, this will hardly be possible.

Some one whispers: "There are people now who will do all the architect's work and the building and furnishing for you at a sum you settle on beforehand. Doesn't that save trouble and dispute?" Well, it depends on what you want and on how much you have to spend, for such an arrangement requires a pretty large investment.

The method, is usually this: The plans are the work of some young architect at wholesale rates — usually not bad; never very good. The building is fairly well done — usually turned in at about cost. The profit on the affair to the firm is in the decorations, including the furniture, which in such houses always turns out to be excessive in quantity on the persuasions of the salesmen, and is, of course, provided at a profit of anywhere from 50 to 500 per cent.

The decorator in these days is as much overpaid as the architect, with his beggarly 6 to 10 per cent., is under paid, and on a transaction involving a house and its contents he can reap a handsome profit on the whole from the decorations alone, provided there are enough of them. For people who don't object to upholstery and have no particular individual tastes, the method seems a fairly good one, and at least involves no chance of such difficulties as I have related above; but it is not often followed by people of simple or severe tastes in interiors.

As for the people who are rash enough to think they can build without an architect, they do not, to my mind, deserve all the sympathy they get. Of course, with a set of stock building plans and a builder of supernal honesty, they may not go so far wrong; but the second ingredient in the combination is the important one. The difficulty with such building plans accompanied by estimates is that the specifications are so loose that the poorest work will meet them — thus accounting for the estimates!

A lady in an Eastern city found in one of the magazines a prize design for a charming house, drawn "to cost not over seven thousand dollars." To her surprise and joy she found that the architect lived in her city and that she knew him. The house was "exactly what she wanted." So she went happily to give him the commission to get out the plans, and so on, for bids after the usual method, and found him strangely unresponsive.

"Oh, you don't want that house!" he said. "Now let us do it this way, and change that wing

"But I do want that house," she interrupted.

"I want that house line for line — it is just my ideal!"

Well, to cut the story short, she found that he would not undertake to find her a contractor for "exactly that house" under fifteen thousand dollars. She was not surprised that his "house for seven thousand dollars" had taken the magazine prize!

The only way to beat the building game is, first, to find an architect who has some strength of character and business sense, and a contractor who has a reputation for good work; and then — not to corrupt the contractor by demanding that he forego his profit in too low a bid, or overstrain the architect by thus forcing him to play policeman. The whole matter reduces itself to the willingness on the part of the owner to make a rigid and searching investigation into the contractor's record and character — and his pecuniary circumstances are not less important. The architect isn't going to do it; he isn't going to shop round indefinitely to save the owner's money for the small fee he can charge — architects are greatly underpaid if they do what the fond owner thinks they ought to do. His duty at this stage is done if he weeds out the bunch of contractors. And, in spite of the fact that there are no corrupt architects, their interest in the choice of a contractor is not always precisely identical with the owner's interest.

Architects as a class are intensely sensitive and intensely susceptible to flattery — probably the last trait is a consequence of the first. They are sensitive because they are too often without honor in their own country; they are underpaid for the responsibility they carry; they see their province encroached on every day by the speculative builder from stock plans; by the great engineering firms who finance and design business buildings without them — or without them except nominally; by the decorating firms who take on the whole-house proposition. The largely historical and esthetic character of the architect's training and its lack of emphasis on construction and the business problems of building have put many architects at a great disadvantage in dealing with building contractors.

In the vast amount of literature on the subject of house-building written by architects you will never find a hint of the real reason for many building disputes, in which, of course, the owner is the sufferer — the vague specifications and unbusinesslike methods of the architect. They know how things ought to look but not always how they ought to be done or what they ought to cost — and they resent being informed for the reason above suggested. The tradition of the architect's infallibility must be insisted on.

This peculiar sensitiveness of architects is well understood among builders and the unscrupulous among them play upon it. "If you treat So-and- So as if he were a young god he won't bother you," said one of this ilk to the writer. They find it pays to take an attitude of discreet humility and silently accept or remedy the architect's mistakes, with the expectation, sometimes justified, of becoming favored bidders for future work.

Since, in general, then, an architect's business acumen is quite likely to be less than his artistic ability — and since, in any case, if the contractor is dishonest he can cheat — the one absolutely essential element in the successful conduct of the game is to find a good builder; and by good builder I mean one who will respond to fair treatment by good work. No human being will do good work for the man who is determined to get something for nothing. Since, as I have shown, an exhaustive search is not the duty of the architect, it must devolve upon the owner; and if he lacks knowledge of character and business judgment to such an extent that he can not size up such a proposition when he actively puts his mind to it, then he would better rent.

A short time ago one of the small homebuilding magazines contained a tragic story of some young couples who bought some apparently charming houses — concrete and shingle cottages de luxe with English brick fireplaces, chestnut wainscoting and ceiling beams, small-paned windows, and so on — which began to go to pieces as soon as lived in and were only made habitable by vast expenditures; and it enlarged on the cruel treatment by the wicked contractor of the young, ambitious to own a home. Now I know nothing of the facts in this case, but I would wager something that those young people would have turned away with scorn from houses on which the sum they were willing to pay had been expended to make a really good job. If those ambitious young people hadn't wanted twenty-thousand-dollarlooking houses for ten thousand dollars the wily contractor would not have deceived them. Half as much examination as the young head of the house would have put on his new automobile might have made them wiser, but I doubt if it would have changed their action. They didn't want small, plain, solid and well-built little houses. I think they did get about what they bargained for.

If you, Mr. Owner, have a definite amount of money to spend — and no desire to "do" your contractor — probably your safest procedure is about as follows:

First, choose your architect, preferably young and not yet too successful, whom you know well enough to have some idea of his business sense and equipment of backbone; not too fashionable, because, if still modest, he will give your plans careful individual attention instead of handing them over to an underling in his large office. Give him your sketches — including dimensions — and ideas, for, of course, you will have some; tell him how much you can spend, making it clear that this sum must cover all equipment of the house exclusive of furniture — that is, lighting and heating plant and fixtures, kitchen range and laundry stove, hardware, screens, awnings, papering, painting, and so on. Ask him for preliminary sketches, including an approximate estimate from some trustworthy builder, and have it understood that these sketches are to be paid for separately. For a ten-thousanddollar expenditure these plans would probably cost in the neighborhood of two hundred dollars, and there is nothing in the situation to prevent your trying out more than one architect in this way.

For the traditional types of construction, however, if the sketches please you and the estimates fall anywhere near your appropriation, you may commission the architect to go ahead with the complete working plans — in writing. Here is the place to warn you never to give verbal directions after signing the building contract; or, if given, to confirm them by letter at once. Your wife will probably feel hampered by this restriction — until she has unwarily ordered changes in construction in the course of chats with architect or contractor, which will bring in a heavy bill of extras. Have a written contract with your architect as to the amount of service he is to give you, the frequency of his inspections and the commission he is to receive, including a provision for changes, cuts, or unexpected increases in the cost.

Then, when at last you have the detailed plans and the typewritten specifications before you, go over and over them with your wife and other members of the family. See whether all the closets she wants are included — all the shelves, laundry and ash chutes; whether the servants' quarters, especially the sanitary arrangements, are adequate — service and cellar stairs properly placed; whether the passages from kitchen to dining-room, and kitchen to front door are planned for silent and quick service; whether there is sufficient storeroom; and whether the radiators and electric-light outlets are well placed for use and for appearance. The specifications should be read principally to be sure of the inclusion of all necessary equipment, especially for kitchen and dining-room. In these days of built-in refrigerators, specially designed screens, and so on, all these should be carefully scrutinized.

Now comes the great question of the fair estimate. I have tried to show the influences leading contractors to bid too low for good work and the reasons why architects are not necessarily authoritative here. The owner, however, may rejoin: "How am I to know whether the bid or estimate for my house is too low or too high if the architect cannot tell me?" A method that is too seldom

I followed has always been productive of good results — that is, to get a disinterested estimate from a good consulting engineer who has experience in building. Then, when one bidder gives you a figure very much higher and another one very much lower, you will be justified in rejecting the second and using all pressure to bring the first down. Possibly the low bidder may be able to convince you of special circumstances by which he is able to save money — such as, for instance, his intention to be his own foreman on the job; or his nearness to the seat of operations; or his chance to use certain workmen; or you may have outside testimony as to the sterling character of his work — but, except under such conditions, beware of the very low bidder.

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