We’ve all stared at the calendar, convinced there’s a hidden twenty-fifth hour—plenty of room to redline that section, nudge the model, and squeeze in just one more detail. “We’ll sort it during bidding,” we promise ourselves, and the optimism buys another day of breathing room. Architects thrive on this kind of self-talk; some versions are harmless, others lurk like change-order booby traps. Today Andrew and I are spotlighting the greatest hits—the stories we repeat, the messes they create, and the habits that can stop the cycle before it snaps back on us. Grab your favorite red Sharpie … Welcome to Episode EP 176: Little White Lies.
[Note: If you are reading this via email, click here to access the on-site audio player] Podcast: Embed Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Android | iHeartRadio | TuneIn
I’ve Got Plenty of Time jump to 4:24
This may be the single most prevalent lie we tell ourselves the most during our career. We always are telling ourselves we have the time. Time to finish. Time to do just one more thing. Time to get enough sleep. Time to make it work. Time to meet that deadline and have all the details complete. I’m not saying all architects do this, but there is a large number. I think it’s our underlying optimism in our abilities and skills. Maybe that’s ego, but whatever the reason, it happens. A lot.
We’ll Deal with it During Construction jump to 8:13
Another beauty. This is one we tell ourselves as well quite often. We have a looming deadline and we need, no we MUST, publish a set of drawings and meet the deadline. We know we have left some things to deal with later. Sometimes, in the good cases, we make it back to those elements and finish our task in the manner we intended. Often, we deal with the element, but not always in the same manner and care we might have during the design phase. Then, there are those times when we just don’t ever make it back to that and the contractors solve those issues for us. Whether that is how we wanted to not is a different story.
I’ll Just do a Little Work Tonight jump to 11:38
Some architects are most assuredly better at this than others. The best of us never even tempt the fates and do work “at night.” Others can actually do just a task or two and then close up shop and move one. Then there is that group that sits down for a few small tasks and doesn’t realize until 4 hours later that they are still working. We knew we should have not sat down at the desk at all. But once it starts, sometimes it’s just too tough to stop.
I’ll Do a Little Conceptual Work to Show Them jump to 15:56
This one costs us the most. Not just as an individual, but as a profession. Don’t get me wrong, I have said this one to myself many times. If I just can show them my ideas, surely that will convince them to give me the project. My ideas are so outstanding, how can they not! But more often than not, they like the ideas, don’t hire me for the project, and probably take some of my ideas to the team they did hire. Again, this one hurts. But it also hurts all of the profession for us to give away any work at any time. It devalues our skills and knowledge to those who hire us. I’m not saying it’s easy to avoid that temptation, but for the benefit of all, we most definitely should.
You Can Never Draw Too Much jump to 19:53
This one has manifested itself more and more in our digitally produced documentation world. The easier the software has become to operate and generate drawings, the more drawings we seem to WANT to make. Here the fallacy of just adding more drawings is a lie that gives us comfort that we have done enough and that we have proven our value. More sheets. Larger CD sets. On and on. I think is a way that we choose to compensate for being undervalued in general. It’s like we are the kindergartener that is showing everyone all the drawings they can make with a blue crayon. I can throw out this judgement because I too have fallen victim to this seemingly harmless lie.
At Least We Got this One Detail in the Project jump to 27:53
This one is a tough one. Clients, budgets, economies, all can wreak havoc on our grand ideas and concepts for projects. We like to console ourselves with the notion that “at least we kept this or that”. I cannot say that I haven’t been here too. Of course I have with a career in public projects. But I think that almost every architect has fallen victim to have a project not go how we had hoped and in the end we lay claim to that one minor victory. But hey!, it is a victory and sometimes that means more than it seems. Many projects can be a struggle to get from conception to construction to occupation and we should not feel bad for laying claim to the bright spots we can gather. But sometimes, it is still just a little treat to east the more looming pain.
That’s Totally Clear – it’s Obvious jump to 32:30
An architect’s thought process is not one that is typically understood by those on the outside of the profession. This little lie is one that we say quite often. We know it makes perfect sense and how could anyone not get it or understand. Unfortunately, not ever one can read the drawings, images, plans, sketches or even words as we truly mean them. Many times we find ourselves re-telling the story or having to explain our quite obvious intentions. I don’t think this is a good or bad occurrence, I think it’s just a reality of the profession. We all have the ability to see our ideas so clearly in our own minds, we often are mystified that others cannot see them the same way we do.
This will Survive VE jump to 34:48
This one goes well with the previous entry. It’s one we tell ourselves during some of the worst times of the project process. Value Engineering is never really our friend. Some architects will say that it can be good for a project, but I think they are definitely kidding themselves. The lie of thinking that our big idea our grand gesture will survive the VE process is certainly a lie. Here is the trick. IF we are good enough to maintain the project budget and integrate the big idea, then the VE part is never even on the table and out project gets to stay intact! Of course, there are economic times that make this task extremely difficult, but with more skill we can make it almost impossible to separate the concept form the project with any amount of Value engineering. Then again, sometimes the budget monster just eats it all.
Nobody will Ever See It jump to 39:16
These are both of the same genres. The notion that we can put a little less effort in on something that may not be as visible is quite common. Not just for architects, but in the AEC as an industry I would say. But I find that I can think this way during design, maybe in construction, but NEVER after it’s completed. On the contrary, I swear it’s the first thing and maybe even the ONLY thing I see when I am at that project. Or it will be the one element that is now 100% visible from multiple locations that you never even though about. So now EVEYRONE can see this poorly contrived element. UGH! This one can come back and bite you so hard.
I will say this one has my favorite colloquialism to accompany the sentiment… “I will never see it from my desk.” While not a good attitude, it always makes me chuckle.
BIM Will Cut Our Hours in Half jump to 44:06
The sales pitch for BIM glitters: clash detection, automated schedules, intelligent objects—project delivery sliced like a sushi roll. The unadvertised footnote? Those efficiencies arrive only after robust standards, component libraries, hardware horsepower, and staff training soak up early budgets. Over time, yes, ROI materializes—especially in complex work—but the first few cycles often add hours as teams wrestle templates and workflows. This lie deserves scrutiny because it breeds mismatched expectations: principals shave fee, staff sprint, and quality stumbles. Better framing: BIM reallocates hours, shifting coordination upstream, reducing construction chaos downstream. Communicate that redistribution, and clients will grasp why design may take longer while CA shortens. Invest in BIM like infrastructure—consistent naming conventions, version control, and periodic “model audits” keep the promise honest. When you walk a jobsite peppered with iPads instead of RFIs, you’ll see the payoff. But call BIM a magic time reducer and you’ll watch morale dip as fast as the RAM usage climbs.
We Can Drop our Fee and Make It Back Later jump to 47:31
Discounting design service is the professional version of payday loans: cash today, compounded pain tomorrow. The myth survives because hope springs eternal—scope creep, change orders, or a future project will reimburse the sacrifice. In practice, clients anchor to the lowest price they’ve ever paid, and extras require the same negotiation energy as the original contract—only now from a weaker position. This lie warrants attention because it corrodes firm culture: staff race to hit unrealistic hours, quality slides, burnout spikes, and the spiral begins. The strategic alternative is value engineering the fee itself. Reduce deliverables commensurate with cost savings or stage the project in phases with clear gates. That reframes discounting as scope management, not desperation. If cash flow is the driver, explore milestone billing or retainer structures that protect margin. Some relationships may genuinely merit a break—non-profits, strategic clients—but document that generosity and set an expiration date. Over the arc of a career, pricing integrity builds trust and allows reinvestment in technology, research, and talent. Lowering fees as a default gambit is a race to the bottom no one wins, especially not the profession.
Plan Reviewers Won’t Catch That jump to 50:45
Picture the harried plans examiner sipping cold coffee behind a fortress of permit sets—surely they’ll overlook your forgotten guardrail note or the ADA stall that’s one inch shy. Yet experience proves they wield an almost supernatural radar for exactly the omission you gambled on. Banking on their fatigue is like running red lights because the traffic cop looks distracted. I address this lie not to vilify reviewers but to highlight their role as the public’s proxy. Code is our minimum contract with occupant safety; treating it casually undercuts professional duty. Respect starts with early code analyses, peer checks, and candid pre-submittal meetings where ambiguities get exposed, not excused. A clear, compliant set often glides through permitting, earning goodwill the client notices. Conversely, resubmittals stall shovels, extend carry costs, and tarnish reputations. Make reviewers allies—share cut-through diagrams, invite feedback, and correct errors before stamps dry. When the permit arrives on time and the owner marvels at the smoother start, you’ll realize diligence isn’t bureaucratic hoop-jumping; it’s strategic leverage.
This Render will be Finished in an Hour jump to 54:42
Rendering software entices with progress bars inching confidently toward 100 %, but behind the façade lurk texture glitches, misplaced light sources, and GPU tantrums. Promise a delivery before the image is exported and the universe queues a blue-screen event. I address this lie because it conflates technology speed with predictability. Smart workflows hedge bets: test low-res drafts, confirm materials, and allow overnight marathons without human babysitting. Maintain alternate views in case the hero angle crashes. If a deadline is truly immovable, pre-bake fallback graphics or line-weight overlays that communicate design even if photorealism fails. Clients appreciate transparency—tell them final polish needs breathing room; they’d rather wait twelve hours than see a rushed, uncanny-valley lobby. Mastery is anticipating the unpredictable, not pretending it doesn’t exist.
Just Reuse one of Our Standard Details jump to 56:36
Standard details feel like safety nets—proof-read, vetted, ready to paste. But assemblies perform within ecosystems: climate, orientation, adjacent materials, code updates. Transplant a detail without verifying context and you may incubate vapor drive, fire-rating breaches, or constructability nightmares. I flag this lie because repeated litigation cases trace back to copy-paste complacency. Establish standards, yes, but treat each as a template demanding three sanity checks: newest code cycle, project climate zone, and adjacency integration. Maintain a “detail change log” noting why tweaks occurred; future projects benefit from that institutional memory. Encourage junior staff to annotate assumptions—insulation type, sealant chemistry—so reviewers catch mismatches before issuance. Building envelopes are too critical for autopilot. When the envelope consultant applauds your wall sections for specificity and the GC bids without qualifiers, you’ll realize customizing standards is the fastest route to genuine efficiency.
Hypothetical jump to 59:04
Today’s question is a bit of a repeat of three of four other questions just mashed up a bit … and something that I have been thinking about more and more lately.
You have to leave your home country and never return … so where will you choose to spend the rest of your days and why?
This is a hard question for me to actually answer, which is probably why it is such a good question. I am probably 10 – 15 years away from going into retirement (… that was a weird sentence to write). I like where I am, but I have no idea where my daughter will end up after graduate school. I am growing more and more intolerant of the Texas weather, and I spend more and more time thinking about adventure and what that might mean. So how do you make a selection on where you would move without knowing some very specific information. If I was in my 20’s and still living the life of a single person, the ramifications of my decision are not particularly severe but would probably have an interesting impact on my future. Making this sort of move as a late 60’s dude … it could be the wrong sort of adventure.
Ep 176: Little White Lies
Our calendars, models, and budgets trace a constant negotiation between our ambition and the reality of our profession, and the internal monologues we’ve unpacked tonight are simply the grease that keeps those gears turning. They reassure us when scope balloons, soften the sting of red ink, and sometimes give imagination room to roam before pragmatism reins it back in. Recognizing them doesn’t make us cynical; it reminds us that the craft survives on equal parts optimism and discipline. When we can name the stories we spin—about time, cost, complexity, perfection—we give ourselves the chance to swap reflex for intention. We’re still allowed to dream, but the point of our little white lies is to anchor those dreams so firmly that they can’t drift into the shadows where remorse and rework breed. Because the buildings we leave behind will echo whatever conversation we had with ourselves along the way. Hopefully you like talking to yourself …
Cheers,
“Special thanks to our sponsor Construction Specialties, maker of architectural building products designed to master the movement of buildings, people, and natural elements. Construction Specialties has been creating inspired solutions for a more “intelligently built” environment since 1948. Visit MasteringMovement.net learn more.”