Warren Buffett to Offer a New Spin on Modular Construction
A startup owned by Berkshire Hathaway aims to make the construction industry more like car manufacturing.
A startup owned by Berkshire Hathaway aims to make the construction industry more like car manufacturing.
A startup owned by Warren Buffett’s Berkshire Hathaway Inc. aims to shake up the construction industry by making it more like car manufacturing.
MiTek Inc., a Missouri-based construction-technology company, is launching a new modular building venture with New York City-based architect Danny Forster & Architecture. The company plans to build entire rooms for hotels and apartment buildings in factories, and then send them to a construction site to be stacked on top of each other.
MiTek has more than 6,000 employees and sells building components, construction software and services like engineering. The company said it is investing tens of millions of dollars in the modular venture, and plans to start working on its first projects early next year.
Modular construction isn’t new, but companies have struggled to be profitable. Transporting entire rooms to construction sites can be expensive, and some finished buildings have suffered from leaky facades.
Other efforts to streamline the construction process have also had issues. Katerra Inc., a Silicon Valley-based startup, has been looking to move a bigger part of construction work to factories and become a one-stop shop that cuts out middlemen like plumbers and architects. But it has struggled under this model, and its main backer, SoftBank Group Corp., had to bail it out.
MiTek looks to modernize modular construction by requiring assembly by general contractors. Instead of building entire rooms in a factory and driving them to a construction site on a flatbed truck, MiTek wants to ship kits of manufactured building parts along with instructions.
General contractors would then construct rooms from these parts, which would include a steel cage forming the structural support for the room, in a warehouse or other type of industrial building near the construction site.
Shipping the parts, rather than entire rooms, keeps transportation costs low and allows MiTek to supply the country from its factory in Lebanon, Pa., said Todd Ullom, the company’s vice president of modular building solutions.
That companies continue to invest in modular construction despite the challenges speaks to the business model’s promise, proponents say. Construction is a massive industry, plagued by rising costs and inefficiencies. Anyone who manages to automate it the way Henry Ford once changed car manufacturing stands to make a fortune, some industry observers say.
“How come an entire industry is operating on mid-to-late-20th-century mode when we’re a quarter of the way, almost, into the 21st century?” said Barry LePatner, a New York-based construction attorney. “It drives me crazy.”
MiTek’s approach brings its own challenges. Relying on customers to assemble rooms based on written instructions can be tricky. Many general contractors are resistant to change, which could lead to friction and mistakes.
Mr. Ullom, who worked as a general contractor for more than 30 years, said relying on a single supplier instead of numerous subcontractors reduces risk, and the instructions are simple to follow. He said MiTek would offer on-site training.
MiTek also plans to automate much of its 225,000-square-foot factory, for example by using robotic welders, not unlike how auto makers assemble cars. Architect Danny Forster’s firm has designed what could become the world’s tallest modular hotel, a planned 26-story building for Manhattan. He said other modular-construction companies moved work from building sites into factories but failed to make it faster or more efficient.
“A lot of times it has been bringing the chaos of the construction site and just putting a roof over it,” he said.
Reprinted by permission of The Wall Street Journal, Copyright 2021 Dow Jones & Company. Inc. All Rights Reserved Worldwide. Original date of publication: May 18, 2021.
Consumers are going to gravitate toward applications powered by the buzzy new technology, analyst Michael Wolf predicts
Chris Dixon, a partner who led the charge, says he has a ‘very long-term horizon’
Couples find that lab-grown diamonds make it cheaper to get engaged or upgrade to a bigger ring. But there are rocky moments.
Wedding planner Sterling Boulet has some advice for brides-to-be regarding lab-grown diamonds, which cost a fraction of the natural ones.
“If you’re trying to get your man to propose, they’ll propose faster if you offer this as an option,” says Boulet, of Raleigh, N.C. Recently, she adds, a friend’s fiancé “thanked me the next three times I saw him” for telling him about the cheaper lab-made option.
Man-made diamonds are catching on, despite some lingering stigma. This year was the first time that sales of lab-made and natural mined loose diamonds, primarily used as center stones in engagement rings, were split evenly, according to data from Tenoris, a jewellery and diamond trend-analytics company.
The rise of lab-made stones, however, is bringing up quirks alongside the perks. Now that blingier engagement rings—above two or three carats—are more affordable, more people are dealing with the peculiarities of wearing rather large rocks.
Esther Hare, a 5-foot-11-inch former triathlete, sought out a 4.5-carat lab-made oval-shaped diamond to fit her larger hands as a part of her vow renewal in Hawaii last year. It was a far cry from the half-carat ring her husband proposed with more than 25 years ago and the 1.5-carat upgrade they purchased 10 years ago. Hare, 50, who lives in San Jose, Calif., and works in high tech, chose a $40,000 lab-made diamond because “it’s nuts” to have to spend $100,000 on a natural stone. “It had to be big—that was my vision,” she says.
But the size of the ring has made it less practical at times. She doesn’t wear it for athletic training and swaps in her wedding band instead. And she is careful to leave it at home when traveling. “A lot of times I won’t take it on vacation because it’s just a monster,” she says.
The average retail price for a one-carat lab-made loose diamond decreased to $1,426 this year from $3,039 in 2020, according to the Tenoris data. Similar-sized loose natural diamonds cost $5,426 this year, compared with $4,943 in 2020.
Lab-made diamonds have essentially the same chemical makeup as natural ones, and look the same, unless viewed through sophisticated equipment that gauges the characteristics of emitted light.
At Ritani, an online jewellery retailer, lab-made diamond sales make up about 70% of the diamonds sold, up from roughly 30% two years ago, says Juliet Gomes, head of customer service at the company, based in White Plains, N.Y.
Ritani sometimes records videos of the lab-diamonds pinging when exposed to a “diamond tester,” a tool that judges authenticity, to show customers that the man-made rocks behave the same as natural ones. “We definitely have some deep conversations with them,” Gomes says.
Not all gem dealers are rolling with these stones.
Philadelphia jeweller Steven Singer only stocks the natural stuff in his store and is planning a February campaign to give about 1,000 one-carat lab-made diamonds away free to prove they are “worthless.” Anyone can sign up online and get one in the mail; even shipping is free. “I’m not selling Frankensteins that were built in a lab,” Singer says.
Some brides are turned off by the larger bling now allowed by the lower prices.When her now-husband proposed with a two-carat lab-grown engagement ring, Tiffany Buchert, 40, was excited about the prospect of marriage—but not about the size of the diamond, which she says struck her as “costume jewellery-ish.”
“I said yes in the moment, of course, I didn’t want it to be weird,” says the physician assistant from West Chester, Pa.
But within weeks, she says, she fessed up, telling her fiancé: “I think I hate this ring.”
The couple returned it and then bought a one-carat natural diamond for more than double the price.
When Boulet, the wedding planner in Raleigh, got engaged herself, she was over the moon when her fiancé proposed with a 2.3 carat lab-made diamond ring. “It’s very shiny, we were almost worried it was too shiny and was going to look fake,” she says.
It doesn’t, which presents another issue—looking like someone who really shelled out for jewellery. Boulet will occasionally volunteer that her diamond ring came from a lab.
“I don’t want people to think I’m putting on airs, or trying to be flashier than I am,” she says.
For Daniel Teoh, a 36-year-old software engineer outside of Detroit, buying a cheaper lab-made diamond for his fiancée meant extra room in his $30,000 ring budget.
Instead of a bigger ring, he got her something they could both enjoy. During a walk while on an annual ski trip to South Lake Tahoe, Calif., Teoh popped the question and handed his now-wife a handmade wooden box that included a 2.5-carat lab-made diamond ring—and a car key.
She put on the ring, celebrated with both of their sisters and a friend, who was the unofficial photographer of the happy event, and then they drove back to the house. There, she saw a 1965 Mustang GT coupe in Wimbledon white with red stripes and a bow on top.
Looking back, Teoh says, it was still the diamond that made the big first impression.
“It wasn’t until like 15 minutes later she was like ‘so, what’s with this key?’” he adds.
Consumers are going to gravitate toward applications powered by the buzzy new technology, analyst Michael Wolf predicts
Chris Dixon, a partner who led the charge, says he has a ‘very long-term horizon’