Parallels Between Construction and Game of Thrones. No, Really.
Before I got into construction, I spent a decade in the theater and film industry. It started with a show group called The New Virginians (think Up with People) in college. But I was far more intrigued by what was happening backstage, and so I threw myself into community productions. There was Fiddler on the Roof and Li’l Abner. Then I ran the Cherry Creek Arts Festival, the largest outdoor art event across three days in the country, in 1998. It was a doozy. How do you put all the cones into the road at the same time, effectively redirecting traffic and not get killed? Very carefully.
In each project, I loved how the pieces came together. I loved the problem-solving and creative thinking. The chance to make an impact. In 2001, although I continued doing shows on the side, I switched to construction–and it felt like such a natural fit. It turns out that my true passion was creating experiences.
So when I started watching Game of Thrones in 2011, it was tough for me to stay focused on Cersei, Jamie, and the whitewalkers. I kept thinking: “This is amazing character development! These sets are complicated! Wow what gorgeous costumes! Wait–how the heck are the directors pulling all this off?”
Big money is on the line.
The first season of “Game of Thrones” cost between $50 million and $60 million (5 million-ish an episode). Future season were ever higher. The more money, the better the show and the more complicated the finances. Construction projects costs run the gamut–from $100/sq feet for residential and 10x that for healthcare. Again, big money is always at stake. And in both scenarios, there are code requirements, infection control protocols, expensive equipment, fast schedules, and unexpected issues that drive up the cost.
You’re making an impact.
Unless you’ve been hiding in a dungeon, Game of Thrones is a pretty big deal. It’s become part of our zeitgeist. Harvard even offers a class on it. The show set a new HBO standard and will likely live on the minds and hearts (Halloween costumes and vacation destinations) of people for years. It’s also funneled millions of tourist dollars (and a wee bit more pride) into Northern Ireland, a location previously known primarily for its sectarian violence. Similarly, when you’re working on a big construction project, you are building a permanent fixture. Did you know the average lifespan of any concrete structure is 75-100 years–the length of a good human life. Not just the glass and steel and wood and cement and drywall. You’re changing the landscape of a city and the flow of a community. You’re impacting thousands of humans. Their jobs, their families, their access to medical care, their days. Be proud.
There’s a storyline around every corner.
Was anyone prepared for the Red Wedding? When Hot Pie and Arya first parted, did we really expect to see him again? That Sam would turn out to be an incredibly important character? That Dani would actually eat a heart? (more fake blood please!). A stellar show always includes surprises–some popular, some not so much. Often just when things get quiet. Construction projects are also fond of throwing curveballs. Unexpected drama, combative vendors, C-suite management gone wrong and failing inspections have thrown us all into panic. And that’s what keeps it interesting.
The stakes are high.
When I sold tickets to my play, Godspell for opening night, I couldn’t change my mind. People were coming and we better have a show. When Weiss and Benioff promised HBO that there would be a Season 8 in early 2019, he had to keep it. And when it rained for weeks in Northern Ireland, they had to shift their work flow. In construction, when you agree to a schedule, there’s no going back. In both situations, the show truly must go on and you simply must trust the process. There are only two things which can halt either project safety (sickness and injury) or budget (you run out of money). Otherwise, it’s game on.
Nobody really understands what happens behind the scenes.
When you see an episode of Game of Thrones, you see a flying dragon, a witch birthing a smoke monster and violence that stirs your soul (only 5 of 73 episodes did not include a death), and the occasional Starbucks coffee cup.
Similarly, in construction, buildings loom above us with perfectly rounded atriums, true corners, even floors and perfectly fitted windows. Doors open. Signs hang. Walls hold. Behind the scenes, steel, flooring, electricity, paint colors, built-in furniture, lumber, frames, veneer, plumbing, nurse call systems and fire alarms work seamlessly together.
You are caught up in an experience. You’re seeing the outer shell of an egg. And inside, it’s pretty messy. Costumes, weather conditions, makeup, lighting, sound, actors, electrical (and on and on) must coordinate perfectly. The snow is actually shredded paper. Most furs were rugs from Ikea.
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Does the end of a construction project drum up as much public excitement as Dani torching a medieval village? Well, no. But I couldn’t help draw some parallels. I must say it’s part of what keeps me in this industry. The depth. The excitement. The creation of an experience.
What do you love about Construction? Better yet, what do you love about Game of Thrones?
