From the day we start school, we are told to work hard and play fair. We are told that cheats never prosper, and that honesty is the best policy. They instill it in us as children: follow the rules, show respect, and success will follow.
We grow up hearing these principles like they're gospel, and we carry them with us into adulthood, expecting that the world will somehow operate under the same fair rules we learned in school. And yet, as time passes, as we step out into the real world, especially in industries like construction and demolition, we learn something very different.
The reality hits hard: good guys often finish last. Cheats actually do prosper. Those who abide by the rules suffer, while those who bend, break, and manipulate them are the ones who thrive.
You walk onto a site for the first time, fresh out of school, and you think you’re ready. You believe that hard work and doing things the right way will get you to the top.
But it doesn’t take long before you realise that this industry isn’t a meritocracy. It’s a game. And like any game, the winners aren’t always the best players—they’re the ones who know how to manipulate the rules. They’re the ones who cut corners, make backdoor deals, and grease the right palms.
In the demolition and construction industry, you see this play out every day. You’ve got companies bidding on projects, promising the world, undercutting the competition with impossibly low prices.
You think, "There’s no way they can deliver on that." And you’re right—because they don’t. They cut costs wherever they can, compromise on safety, use substandard materials, or delay projects until they're forced to renegotiate at higher prices. But do they face the consequences? No. They get the job, they make the money, and they move on to the next project.
Meanwhile, the honest companies—the ones who play fair and bid what the job is actually worth—are often left in the dust. They lose out because they can’t compete with the underhanded tactics that are so prevalent in this business. They follow the rules, pay their workers fair wages, and ensure their projects meet safety standards, but at the end of the day, that integrity costs them. It costs them contracts, it costs them jobs, and it costs them their future in an industry that doesn’t reward honesty the way we were promised as kids.
You see it everywhere. The little guy, the contractor who works his fingers to the bone to provide for his family, gets swallowed up by the bigger fish. And why? Because the bigger fish aren’t playing the same game.
And the system? The system just turns a blind eye. There’s too much money on the table for anyone to care about fairness or honesty.
Take demolition for example. You’ve got asbestos, lead paint, and all kinds of environmental hazards. The law says you’ve got to follow certain protocols to dispose of this stuff safely. But that costs time and money. So what do some companies do? They take shortcuts. They don’t bother with the proper disposal; they just bury it, hide it, move it somewhere else, and hope no one notices.
They don’t play by the rules, but they save themselves a fortune. And what happens if they get caught? A slap on the wrist, maybe a fine, but nothing that actually hurts their bottom line. They factor it in as a cost of doing business.
And here’s the thing: these companies aren’t just surviving—they’re thriving. They’re getting more contracts, expanding their operations, and raking in profits, while the ones who follow the law struggle to make ends meet. It’s a rigged system, and it’s a system that rewards the rule breakers, not the rule followers.
So what does that leave us with? An industry where the honest guy, the one who refuses to cut corners or cheat the system, can’t compete. He’s left watching as his competitors, the ones who break every rule in the book, pull ahead. The very principles we were taught as children—work hard, be honest, play fair—they don’t hold up.
Not here. Not in a world where success is measured by how much you can get away with, not by how much you do right.
And you have to wonder, at the end of the day, is it worth it? Is it worth sticking to your principles, knowing that they might be the very thing holding you back?
It’s a question a lot of us in this industry ask ourselves, probably more often than we’d like to admit. Because it’s tempting, isn’t it? To just give in, to play the game the way everyone else is playing it, to stop fighting against a system that’s designed to reward those who cheat.
Personally, I know what’s more important. It’s not winning at all costs. It is being able to look myself in the mirror and know that I did things the right way?
But it’s a tough call. In this industry, it always is. But maybe the real reward isn’t in the contracts or the money or the trappings of success.
Maybe the real reward is knowing that, no matter how crooked the game may be, you didn’t let it change who you are.