Ben Whelan never romanticized the work of framing walls or replacing roofs. Like many others, he got into construction as a teenager simply because it paid the bills. But with decades of experience under his belt, he carries deep pride in craftsmanship — whether it’s perfectly sealing a house or placing nails just right on a shingle. His own home in Connecticut is so well insulated, he heats it all winter with just a cast-iron stove and three cords of wood.

Now 47, Whelan feels connected to a long lineage of builders. “Framing a roof hasn’t changed,” he said. “Sheathing a wall, even though the products have changed, the basics haven’t changed. Flooring hasn’t changed.” Much of what he knows came from working beside older tradesmen in his hometown of Guilford, Connecticut. Back then, skilled carpenters, electricians, and plumbers were respected — many lived comfortably alongside doctors and lawyers. That’s the legacy Whelan hoped to continue when he launched BTW Construction in the early 2000s.

Work was grueling — 10 to 12 hour days, six days a week — but the rewards were real. Whelan could envision expanding his business and building neighborhoods of affordable, well-crafted homes. “We were very busy — to a point where you’re going to bed and going to work,” he recalled.

But the 2008 housing crash changed everything. Residential construction spending plummeted, and homeowners began seeking multiple bids for even minor jobs. “It was alarming to start seeing that kind of activity on these jobs,” Whelan said. He watched bids spiral downward — sometimes so low he couldn’t believe the numbers. A roofing job he estimated at $18,000 would go for $10,000.

How were other contractors surviving at those prices? One answer lies in labor practices. In 2021, the Center for American Progress estimated that 23% of construction workers and 32% of roofers were undocumented. But even before that trend, a structural shift had already begun — especially after the Great Recession — as contractors started subcontracting nearly every phase of a project.

The goal was to cut costs. Subcontractors often classified full-time workers as independent contractors or paid them off the books, sidestepping expenses like payroll taxes and workers’ comp. The fallout? Wages and job security eroded, and many skilled workers exited the industry. “I don’t blame anybody, because you got to survive,” Whelan said of those who adopted the model — but he didn’t go down that road.

Instead, he kept overhead low and avoided bidding wars. He did most of the labor himself, sometimes with only one employee. These days, Whelan still juggles nearly everything — hauling materials, managing inspections, and meeting clients — just to stay afloat.

Meeting with a young couple in Chester, Whelan explained his company’s rare approach. “We do the frame to finish in-house. It’s our employees. It’s not subbed out.” The couple nodded politely, unaware just how rare that was.

On a roof in Guilford, Whelan crouched over a leak with two young employees, his most dependable hires in years. “This one’s going to be difficult, guys,” he said. He showed them how to remove nails without damaging siding before rushing off for permits.

These two employees were a turning point — hired after Whelan unionized BTW Construction. He hesitated before signing: the contract required a $10,000 bond and opened his books to union audits. But for Whelan, it was survival. He was getting older and couldn’t keep doing everything himself. “If you tell them something once, they understand,” he said of his new team.

Union wages and benefits raise his costs substantially. A journeyman earns at least $26 an hour, but once health care, pension contributions, and taxes are factored in, Whelan’s cost is closer to $50 an hour. Competing bids from contractors paying $20–$25 an hour off the books leave him priced out. Still, Whelan refuses to compromise on quality or skirt labor laws.

Fixing the results of shoddy construction has become a core part of his business. One client, the Kacik family, initially hired him to renovate a leaking bathroom. Before he could begin, water began dripping from another part of the roof. “Did you get more water infiltration?” Whelan asked. “Yeah,” replied Stephanie Kacik, laughing. “One of the kids, they’re like, ‘Hey, mom, it’s started dripping.’ And he grabbed the bowl and had it all set up.”

Repairs uncovered widespread damage — from unsealed gables to rotted sheathing — all signs of substandard earlier work. “I expect to send Ben’s children to college,” joked Ed Kacik. For Whelan, jobs like this affirm his commitment to craftsmanship and control.

Letting go of that would mean giving up oversight — and looking the other way on labor violations. “Getting back in here is going to be a chore. If you get worried about something, that you’re going to destroy it, leave it alone,” he told his employees one day, reinforcing that quality takes precedence.

As sociologist Tom Juravich points out, “There’s always been subcontracting in the construction industry... but as this new model emerged, what they began to do was spin off much of the work.” Today, an estimated 10% to 19% of all construction workers are misclassified or paid under the table, according to the Century Foundation.

Nik Theodore of the University of Illinois Chicago noted a deeper contradiction: “This is an industry that says that it can’t recruit the workers it needs. At the same time, wages have been so stubbornly low.”

Back at his desk, Whelan ran through the math. Competing with off-the-books subcontractors is nearly impossible. “You could work on all these houses and charge an honest day’s living,” he said, remembering the 1980s homes in Guilford’s affordable subdivisions — built when contractors could still turn a fair profit while doing things the right way.

Originally reported by Marcela Valdes in Newyork Times.