If you’ve been in the construction industry for even a minute, you’ve probably heard the phrase: "Fast, cheap, and good—you can only have two." It’s a principle that applies universally, from tiny renovations to massive builds, and yet, clients often assume they can have all three. Spoiler alert: they can’t.
In this post, I’ll break down the fast-cheap-good triangle, share real-world examples, and discuss how to educate clients to make smarter decisions. I’ll also explore rare exceptions and how to leverage these principles for better project outcomes.
Let’s start with the basics: fast, cheap, and good. In construction, you can only have two of these at a time:
The rare trifecta of fast, cheap, and good exists—but only briefly. Typically, it happens when a new company is trying to prove itself. They deliver high-quality work quickly and at a low cost because they’re eager to build a reputation. But as soon as the market recognizes their value, they raise their prices (and rightly so). The “cheap” part of the equation is the first to go.
This is what many clients expect by default, but it’s almost always a recipe for frustration. When a project prioritizes speed and budget, quality inevitably takes a hit. And if clients aren’t explicitly educated on this trade-off, they’ll blame you when things go south.
Case Study: The Cost of Cutting Corners
Earlier in my career I was managing a custom home project - with a couple projects under the belt I was flying high as it was going so smoothly—timelines on track, budgets reasonable. Then one day the homeowner comes bouncing in, grinning ear to ear, and proudly announced, “I found an electrician! My friend swears by him. He’s great and super cheap—40% less than the others!”
I warned, I pleaded, but the home-owner had real life proof. He told me: “Hey look, this guy did my friend’s backyard shed, and it turned out fine!” Because, obviously, wiring a shed with two outlets and a light switch totally qualifies him to handle a 4,800-square-foot house with a complex electrical plan.
From the get-go, it was clear this guy had… a style. He showed up to the job site in a 20-year-old van that had seen better days, with his company name spray-painted (yes, spray-painted) on the side. His tools looked like they were inherited from his grandfather, and he carried a mysterious duct-taped bucket that rattled ominously when he walked. But hey, I’m a professional, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. That lasted about 20 minutes.
One afternoon, as I’m reviewing the day’s progress, I hear a strange sound—a combination of buzzing, drilling, and what I can only describe as maniacal whistling. I walk upstairs to find our bargain electrician in the middle of his magnum opus: drilling five perfectly aligned holes through the bottom cords of 15 structural trusses.
I froze. “What are you doing?” I asked, trying to sound calm while my brain screamed all the bad words that ever existed together all at once.
He looked up, grinned, and said, “Oh, just running these wires the quickest way possible!”
Of course, the quickest way possible. You know, through 15 engineered trusses specifically designed to support the entire roof. When I explained that his masterpiece had essentially turned the structural integrity of the house into a game of Jenga, he looked genuinely puzzled. “I don’t see the problem,” he said. “Can’t you just, like, patch it?”
Spoiler alert: No, you cannot just patch trusses.
I had to halt the entire project. We brought in a structural engineer, who took one look at the damage, shook his head, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like our next project should, indeed, be a shed in the backyard. The solution? Rip out all the wiring, sister new supports to the damaged trusses, and rerun the electrical lines the right way.
The homeowner, who had gleefully saved 40% on the initial bid, ended up spending over $10,000 in additional labor and lost two weeks of progress. When I presented the final invoice, their face went through all five stages of grief in under 10 seconds.
Takeaway: Educate your clients. If they push for fast and cheap, make it clear—in writing—that quality will be compromised. Continually remind them of this trade-off to avoid blame when issues arise.
Fast and good is my go-to default. It’s what high-quality clients appreciate and what delivers top-tier results. However, it’s not cheap. Clients need to understand that exceptional work done quickly demands a premium.
Why Fast and Good Works
Cautionary Note: Don’t Oversell
While fast and good is ideal, it’s not always the best choice for budget-sensitive projects. Be honest about when sacrificing affordability is necessary and when it’s not. Strategic planning can also allow for dependency management so you can afford to sacrifice time for some pieces of your build puzzle while prioritizing “fast and good” for others. If you can demonstrate thoughtfulness and not simply fall back on spending money for results, you don’t win approval from your client you win referrals and future business as well.
Cheap and good works best when you can afford to sacrifice speed. This scenario often applies to spec homes or projects where market seasonality allows for a longer timeline.
Case Study: The Tile Specialist
Every contractor has that guy—the one you call when you need work so flawless it could be featured in a museum, but at a pace that rivals watching paint dry. For me, that guy is Mike the Tile Guy, a one-man show with a reputation for absolute precision. His tiles are straight, his floats are flawless, and his waterproofing could survive the apocalypse. But speed? Let’s just say Mike operates on Mike Time.
It all started with a custom build that needed high-quality tile work. The client wanted perfection—clean lines, perfect grout joints, no shortcuts. “I’ve got just the guy,” I told them. “But he’s a one-man band, and it’s going to take some time.” They assured me they were fine with that, so I called Mike.
Mike showed up with his trusty tools, a coffee thermos the size of a small child, and the air of a man who’s about to create art. And he did. But it was the slowest art project I’ve ever witnessed.
Day 1: Mike carefully set up his saw, measured twice (or maybe three times), and cut his first tiles. By the end of the day, he’d laid precisely 2 square feet of flooring (TWO). It was breathtakingly perfect, but I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d finish the project before the client’s kids went to college.
Mike swore he had a helper. “He’s great,” Mike said. “Cuts all my tiles, cleans up, keeps me on track.” Yet, seven days deep into the job, this helper appeared exactly once—for about 45 minutes. Was he real? A figment of Mike’s imagination? A ghost? To this day, I have no idea.
When I casually asked Mike about his helper’s absence, he shrugged and said, “He’s around.” Sure, Mike. He’s around—just not anywhere near this job site.
Watching Mike work was like watching a craftsman performing a delicate ballet. He’d measure a piece of tile, stroll out to the backyard to cut it, stroll back, and place it with the precision of a surgeon. Then he’d repeat. And repeat. And repeat. At one point, I timed him: he made the same 20-foot round trip to his saw 47 times in one afternoon.
By day three, I wanted to buy him a 15-foot trailer with a built-in cut station just to save my sanity. But Mike was unbothered. “Good work takes time,” he said, laying yet another perfect tile.
Thankfully, I had warned the client upfront: “Mike is amazing, but he’s not fast. If you want this done quickly, he’s not your guy.” They were fine with the trade-off—until day five, when I got a call.
“Why is it taking so long, it’s one bathroom tile job and a small one, shouldn’t it take just a couple days?” they asked. I reminded them: “Because Mike’s work is perfect, and you wanted perfection.”They sighed and said, “Right, okay. Just checking.” From then on, I sent them daily progress photos to remind them why this slow grind was worth it.
By the end of the week, Mike had completed most of the bathroom but still wasn’t satisfied too quickly polish it off before the weekend. Every tile was pristine. The client was thrilled. But it wasn’t done. “This is exactly what we wanted,” they said, “But shouldn’t it be done already?” A gentle reminder of what had already become known as the vortex of “Mike time” put the owners expectations at rest. There were a couple more reminders when it took another full week to finally polish it off. However, the home owner was absolutely gobsmacked and pleased.
But for me? I was ready to pull my hair out. Mike’s work was impeccable, but his pace was like watching molasses drip uphill. Next time, I might just rent him a helper—or at least set up his saw closer to the action.
Takeaway: Cheap and good can be a great choice, but it requires explicit conversations with clients. Remind them regularly that speed isn’t the priority in this scenario.
The cornerstone of managing fast, cheap, and good is client education. Clients often assume they can have all three, and it’s your job to explain why that’s not realistic. Here’s how:
For example, tools like AddWork can simplify this process by providing clear, professional documentation of change orders and budget adjustments, ensuring everyone is on the same page.
Imagine presenting clients with three pricing columns in your proposal:
While clients might balk at this level of transparency, it forces them to think critically about their priorities and sets the stage for more productive conversations. Perhaps most importantly, it creates a guide that you can refer back to when they inevitability get stressed across one of the metrics.
The fast-cheap-good triangle isn’t just a constraint—it’s a framework for smarter decision-making. By understanding these trade-offs and educating clients, you can not just deliver better project outcomes, but build stronger relationships and position yourself as a trusted and transparent partner with your clients.
Every project involves compromise. Your job is to guide clients through those choices, ensuring they understand the consequences and appreciate the value you bring. With clear communication and the right tools, you can turn the fast-cheap-good dilemma into an advantage.