Anyone who has ever worked on a development pro forma will know that the process generally works like this: You start with a bunch of assumptions. You assemble those assumptions in a way that will allow you to determine if the project in question is feasible. And then, you realize that almost everything is more costly than you initially thought and that the project may not actually work. Oh shit.

In fact, a sure-fire way to know that you're on the right track is if the numbers sort of don't work. If the returns look too good to be true, they almost certainly are and you're likely missing something big and meaningful. As we have talked about before on this blog, development happens on the margin. That means that you have to work at it. You have to be creative. And often you have to find ways to increase revenues and cut costs.

The common way to find money is through something known as value engineering, which is just a fancy way of saying, "I need to cut costs, so let's see what I can tolerate losing from this project." That's generally how it works. And we do it on every project. You're trying to find high-cost items with relatively low perceived value.

This process often gets a lot of criticism because people view it as a distasteful cheapening of a project. But the reality is that it is usually an important part of maintaining project feasibility. You may really want to use that fancy material you can only get from Switzerland, but maybe development charges were just increased and now you need to offset those new costs by finding savings somewhere else.

This isn't a perfect analogy, but imagine you were shopping for a new car. You might start out by wanting the fully-loaded version, but then you see the price and realize you can't afford it. So you decide to start trimming features and add-ons until you get to a place where you feel more comfortable. I would imagine this happens with cars, and I'm not sure it's right to point to that person after and say, "oh my god, I can't believe you cheaped out and didn't buy the fully-loaded version."

At the same time, I think it would be perfectly reasonable to argue that you don't need to spend a lot of money to (1) care deeply about the work that you do and (2) have taste. You can't fight the economic realities of the world, but you can care and you can be creative. And I don't think it's too much to advocate for these things.

I'm not sure how I missed this before, but ground has just been broken on what is being called "the world's largest 3D-printed community." Co-designed by ICON and Bjarke Ingels Group and "implemented" by Lennar, the community, which is located north of Austin, Texas, will consist of 100 homes ranging from 1,500 to 2,100 square feet. There are 8 different floor plans and 24 different elevations to choose from. Each home will also come with rooftop solar panels.

Here's a short description on how the overall construction process is working:

To automate the manufacturing of homes ICON is using its Vulcan robotic construction system, a large, transportable printer that can be used in tandem with Magma, a cement mixing machine. The homes are being constructed out of Lavacrete, a durable-concrete polymer added in layers to form the structure’s facade and foundation by Vulcan. Their design blends Texas ranch vernacular with sustainable technology, providing a model for the future of large-scale 3D construction. The residences will adhere to a common design, featuring metal roofs, concrete floors, and distinct curvilinear and rib-textured concrete walls, which are the product of 3D printing.

It is quite a different looking construction site:

Now, there is certainly a conversation to be had about what these machines are building as a housing typology: This is still suburban sprawl, regardless of how the homes are being made and if there are solar panels on the roof. But if you ignore all of this for a minute, there is obviously something pretty incredible about 3D printing being able to now deliver stuff at the scale of a suburban housing project. It represents a fundamental change in how we build, in an industry that has a long history of changing very little.

Anyone who has ever worked on a development pro forma will know that the process generally works like this: You start with a bunch of assumptions. You assemble those assumptions in a way that will allow you to determine if the project in question is feasible. And then, you realize that almost everything is more costly than you initially thought and that the project may not actually work. Oh shit.

In fact, a sure-fire way to know that you're on the right track is if the numbers sort of don't work. If the returns look too good to be true, they almost certainly are and you're likely missing something big and meaningful. As we have talked about before on this blog, development happens on the margin. That means that you have to work at it. You have to be creative. And often you have to find ways to increase revenues and cut costs.

The common way to find money is through something known as value engineering, which is just a fancy way of saying, "I need to cut costs, so let's see what I can tolerate losing from this project." That's generally how it works. And we do it on every project. You're trying to find high-cost items with relatively low perceived value.

This process often gets a lot of criticism because people view it as a distasteful cheapening of a project. But the reality is that it is usually an important part of maintaining project feasibility. You may really want to use that fancy material you can only get from Switzerland, but maybe development charges were just increased and now you need to offset those new costs by finding savings somewhere else.

This isn't a perfect analogy, but imagine you were shopping for a new car. You might start out by wanting the fully-loaded version, but then you see the price and realize you can't afford it. So you decide to start trimming features and add-ons until you get to a place where you feel more comfortable. I would imagine this happens with cars, and I'm not sure it's right to point to that person after and say, "oh my god, I can't believe you cheaped out and didn't buy the fully-loaded version."

At the same time, I think it would be perfectly reasonable to argue that you don't need to spend a lot of money to (1) care deeply about the work that you do and (2) have taste. You can't fight the economic realities of the world, but you can care and you can be creative. And I don't think it's too much to advocate for these things.

I'm not sure how I missed this before, but ground has just been broken on what is being called "the world's largest 3D-printed community." Co-designed by ICON and Bjarke Ingels Group and "implemented" by Lennar, the community, which is located north of Austin, Texas, will consist of 100 homes ranging from 1,500 to 2,100 square feet. There are 8 different floor plans and 24 different elevations to choose from. Each home will also come with rooftop solar panels.

Here's a short description on how the overall construction process is working:

To automate the manufacturing of homes ICON is using its Vulcan robotic construction system, a large, transportable printer that can be used in tandem with Magma, a cement mixing machine. The homes are being constructed out of Lavacrete, a durable-concrete polymer added in layers to form the structure’s facade and foundation by Vulcan. Their design blends Texas ranch vernacular with sustainable technology, providing a model for the future of large-scale 3D construction. The residences will adhere to a common design, featuring metal roofs, concrete floors, and distinct curvilinear and rib-textured concrete walls, which are the product of 3D printing.

It is quite a different looking construction site:

Now, there is certainly a conversation to be had about what these machines are building as a housing typology: This is still suburban sprawl, regardless of how the homes are being made and if there are solar panels on the roof. But if you ignore all of this for a minute, there is obviously something pretty incredible about 3D printing being able to now deliver stuff at the scale of a suburban housing project. It represents a fundamental change in how we build, in an industry that has a long history of changing very little.