• My New Meta
  • Posts
  • Issue #41: Piles, Pixels, and Prefab Promises

Issue #41: Piles, Pixels, and Prefab Promises

A 25-year prefab lesson, now with AI (and fewer angry ducks)

Read time: 11 minutes

👋 Welcome to the 4 new readers who joined this week including Teresa, Judy and Nox

Welcome back, everyone!

This week, I've been getting schooled by two friends about prefab housing.

One's a seasoned Alberta developer. The other drywall to half of Toronto.

Both told me the same thing: "It won't work. Not here. Not now." I get it.

Apparently, this big swing just failed in Toronto (see here for more commentary, apparently it is still operating but has issues):

Back in the mid-2000s, I was knee-deep in prefab startups here in Calgary. Cutting-edge tech, smart people, and some very expensive lessons.

I'd love to tell you exactly what went sideways — but I'm still under NDA from those days.

(insert lawyer-approved shrug here)

Let's just say the math wasn't the problem. It was getting builders, manufacturers, and trades to actually talk to each other.

The coordination was a disaster.

But now?

Things are different.

We're not trying to ship entire houses on trucks anymore — site builders still win that game. The new push is vertical multifamily and modular infill projects.

Where prefab actually makes sense.

This time there's real money behind it: $35+ billion in federal funding aimed at modular construction. Land incentives from provinces. And — here's the game changer — AI tools that might finally solve the coordination nightmare that killed projects like mine.

Will prefab save Canada's housing crisis?

Probably not.

Is this the best shot we've had in 25 years?

Maybe.

And I'm definitely paying attention this time.

Learn AI in 5 minutes a day

What’s the secret to staying ahead of the curve in the world of AI? Information. Luckily, you can join 1,000,000+ early adopters reading The Rundown AI — the free newsletter that makes you smarter on AI with just a 5-minute read per day.

📋 Legal-ish Disclaimer (Because Lawyers Make Me Nervous)

This story may or may not have happened exactly as described. The municipality may or may not be real. The ducks may or may not have been consulted for comment. The concrete piles definitely existed, but their current emotional state is unknown.

This could be a fable, a fever dream, or just what happens when you give a guy with 30 years of development experience too much coffee and a deadline. Any resemblance to actual prefab disasters, living or buried in municipal planning files, is purely coincidental (but probably accurate).

The $35 billion figure is real, the AI revolution is happening, and my boss really did hang up on me. The hinged power poles? Well... let's just say some ideas are better left in the ground with the concrete piles.

No ducks, municipalities, or prefab dreams were permanently harmed in the making of this newsletter. Side effects may include: sudden urges to call your municipal planner, inexplicable faith in factory-built housing, and the compulsive need to fact-check everything I write.

If you happen to work for that municipality and are reading this... hi there…wait, you are probably retired by now 👋 

The $35 Billion (and AI) Prefab Moment

SCENE: Calgary, 2008. It's a crisp spring morning. I'm sitting in my car, parked outside our shiny new industrial site — 100 concrete piles already in the ground, ready for what I'd been calling "the future of housing."

I'm on the phone with my boss, calling in from Toronto. I'm practically bouncing in my seat because I'm about to deliver the best project update of my career.

ME: "Morning! You'll be happy to know the ducks are gone, the piles are in, and the site is ready to go. The town even gave us the special zoning we needed — we're going to show them how prefab gets done!"

BOSS: (long pause) "Greg… about that."

ME: "About what? The ducks? Because I want to be clear, we didn't harm them. We just... encouraged relocation. Very politely."

BOSS: "No, Greg. About the prefab program."

ME: (still oblivious) "Oh, it's going to be amazing! We've got the crane access figured out, the architects are finally on board with the whole 'centre core pickup' concept, and I even convinced the electrical guy that hinged power poles are a real thing!"

BOSS: "Greg, stop."

ME: "I know, I know, it sounds crazy, but—"

BOSS: "It's over. The Board has pulled the plug. We're cancelling the entire prefab program."

ME: (silence)

BOSS: "Greg?"

ME: "I'm sorry, I think we have a bad connection. Did you just say we're cancelling the thing I've been working on for 12 months?"

BOSS: "That's correct."

ME: (voice getting higher) "The thing where I convinced a municipal council to rezone prime residential land for industrial use by promising them we'd bring 'manufacturing jobs of the future' to their sleepy little town?"

BOSS: "Yep."

ME: "The thing where I spent every weekend for two months explaining to architects why their beautiful homes needed to be redesigned so a crane could pick them up by their... belly button?"

BOSS: "That's the one."

ME: (now fully panicking) "The thing where we just sunk a small fortune installing 100 concrete piles in what used to be a perfectly nice duck habitat?"

BOSS: "Exactly that thing."

ME: "And you're telling me this... now? After I literally just told the mayor yesterday that we'd have the first units rolling off the line by Christmas?"

BOSS: "Did you really tell them Christmas?"

ME: "I may have also mentioned something about creating a 'Northern Silicon Valley of Housing Innovation.' I was feeling confident."

BOSS: (sighing) "Greg..."

ME: "Wait, wait. Let me just... process this. So right now, I'm sitting next to 100 concrete pillars sticking out of the ground like some sort of industrial Stonehenge, in a town that thinks they're getting a factory, with architects who probably want to sue me, and power poles that can... fold?"

BOSS: "That's an accurate summary."

ME: "And the ducks?"

BOSS: "What about the ducks?"

ME: "Well, they're not getting their wetland back either, are they?"

BOSS: "Probably not."

ME: (staring at the concrete forest) "So basically, everyone loses. The town, the ducks, the architects, our investors..."

BOSS: "Don't forget yourself."

ME: "Right. Especially me. The guy who has to call everyone back and explain that the 'future of housing' is actually just 100 very expensive lawn ornaments."

BOSS: "Look at it this way — at least you learned something about municipal politics?"

ME: "What I learned is that I'm apparently very good at convincing people to believe in things that will never happen."

BOSS: "That's... actually a valuable skill in development."

ME: (laughing despite myself) "You know what the really sad part is? I was so proud of those hinged power poles. I thought I was some kind of engineering genius."

BOSS: "You did put a lot of enthusiasm into that presentation."

ME: "I had PowerPoint slides! With animations! The poles literally folded in the presentation!"

BOSS: "I remember."

ME: "The mayor asked for copies for his grandkids."

BOSS: "Greg..."

ME: "Fine. I'll call the town. And the architects. And probably the concrete company to ask if there's some sort of 'rapid pile removal' service."

BOSS: "Good luck with that."

ME: (looking at the concrete pillars and trying to spot any returning ducks) "You know, I'm starting to think this whole 'visionary leader' thing might not be my strongest suit."

BOSS: "We'll find you something else to be visionary about."

ME: "Just... maybe something that doesn't involve relocating wildlife or redesigning the entire concept of how houses work?"

BOSS: "Deal."

That was the day I learned an important lesson: Vision without alignment and execution is just an expensive pile of concrete.

Back then, the dream was bold.

We weren't just building houses — we were building a full manufacturing ecosystem:

  • Entire subdivisions pre-designed for factory-built homes

  • Power poles on hinges (because apparently that was necessary)

  • Architects forced to design houses that could be picked up by a centre core (architects love that, by the way — highly recommend if you want a lot of angry phone calls)

  • Municipalities promised jobs and innovation

  • Industrial zoning carved into a new residential site

We had everything... except an industry that was ready to execute together.

Why This Time Might Actually Work

So when my friends tell me today "Prefab won't work — we've seen this movie before" — I get it. I was in that movie. I was in the sad part of that movie. I was the guy calling the town back to say: "About those jobs... well..."

But this time, the story is changing. And here's why:

1️⃣ We're Building the Right Things

Back then, we were trying to factory-build entire single-family homes and move them like giant Lego blocks. Wrong market. Wrong product. Wrong economics.

Today's focus is on where prefab shines:

  • Mid-rise multifamily

  • Modular affordable rental

  • Urban infill product

  • Student housing / supportive housing

Not trying to replace site builders — but adding capacity where traditional delivery is broken.

2️⃣ There's Real Funding Behind It

When I was pitching prefab to municipalities, we were operating on hope and optimism (and apparently, duck relocation services).

Now? There's real fuel:

  • $35+ billion in new federal loans, financing, and subsidies targeting prefab and modular construction

  • Free land incentives in many markets

  • Provincial housing mandates pushing cities to accept faster delivery models

When the money lines up, execution starts to line up too.

3️⃣ AI Is the Missing Ingredient

This is the piece I'm most excited about — because it solves the exact problem that killed us in 2008: coordination.

Back then, our design software didn't talk to our factory software. Our factory output didn't match what site crews expected. Our supply chain was manual and slow. Our project timelines didn't reflect reality.

Today:

👉 Closing the design-to-build gap
Tools like Hypar or TestFit generate modular-friendly, manufacturable designs — reducing the back-and-forth between architects and the factory floor.

👉 Smarter design iterations
AI-assisted platforms like Spacemaker (now part of Autodesk) or even using ChatGPT with parametric design plugins allow teams to rapidly test and optimize building designs.

👉 Factory automation & QA
AI vision systems (example: Landing AI) are being used in manufacturing to detect defects — and the same approach is being applied to modular construction lines for quality control.

👉 Supply chain smoothing
Companies like ClearMetal (now part of Project44) use AI to predict material supply disruptions. Larger modular players are building similar predictive models in-house to manage inventory and prevent costly delays.

👉 Safer sites
Buildots uses helmet-mounted cameras and AI to monitor construction progress and safety risks — improving quality and reducing errors both in modular assembly and on hybrid construction sites.

The Bottom Line

Prefab and modular construction failed its first Canadian run for a simple reason: It wasn't an ecosystem. It was a bunch of disconnected good ideas stapled together.

Now, with billions in funding, a product focus that fits the market, and AI tools finally stitching the ecosystem together — prefab might just stick the landing.

It won't be easy. But this is the best shot we've had in 25 years.

And no ducks will be “relcoated” this time. (no…I can’t promise that 🥹 )

Each week, I test tools, AI prompts, and experiments so you don’t have to.
From zoning hacks to time-saving workflows, here’s one tech-powered insight to help you move faster, think clearer, and waste less money.

From Pencil To Pixels (and back again)

Few issues back Issue #37: Lessons in Leveling (Decks and Egos Alike) , I wrote about using AI prompts to design housing elevations — just for fun.

Fast forward to last week.

I'm sitting across from a builder I genuinely respect. One of the best in Calgary, proudly old-school. He slides me a stack of new house designs.

Beautifully drawn.

In pencil.

On graph paper.

Every line intentional. Every proportion thought through. I could almost hear that pencil scratching across the paper.

But you know me...

The Setup

ME: "These are incredible. Seriously — this is art."

BUILDER: "Thank you. I've been drawing on graph paper since... well, since graph paper was invented."

ME: "I want to try something. Let me run one of these through AI and see if I can save us a few dollars on renderings."

BUILDER: (narrowing eyes) "AI, eh? Just make sure it knows where the siding laps. My pencil does."

ME: "Got it. I'll tell it to respect the pencil."

BUILDER: "And the soffits. And the trim returns. And no fake shadows — we don't need the house looking like a spaceship."

ME: (typing nervously) "Right... respecting siding, soffits, trim, and gravity. Got it."

BUILDER: (leans back, arms crossed) "I'll stick with my pencil for the next one."

ME: "Fair enough — my AI assistant's feelings are pretty fragile anyway."

Later That Day

Instead of sending those drawings off for a $20,000 rendering package, I decided to see how far AI could take us.

Fast, cheap, and (hopefully) accurate.

Yes, “Calgary Beige” at its finest!!

How You Can Do This (In About 30 Seconds)

If you’re a builder, architect, or land developer still working on graph paper (and no judgment — some of the best do), here’s a simple workflow:

1️⃣ Snap a clear photo of your pencil sketch — straight on, good lighting.
2️⃣ Upload that image to an AI tool like Sora or your preferred image-to-image model.
3️⃣ Use a simple prompt:
"Render this house elevation in a clean, realistic architectural style. Match proportions exactly. Respect siding, window layout, and trim detail."
4️⃣ In about 30 seconds, you’ll have a render you can use for internal reviews, marketing drafts, or client approvals — without spending $20K and waiting 6 weeks.

It won’t replace your professional renderers for the final brochure — but it can save time and money on the 15 rounds that come before that.

And yes — it might even keep your old-school builder’s pencil happy.

The Real Lesson

Technology isn't here to replace craftsmanship.

It's here to amplify it.

That builder's pencil sketches? Pure expertise on paper. Thirty years of knowing exactly how siding should lap, where soffits need to breathe, and why trim returns matter.

The AI? Just a really expensive photocopier that occasionally gets creative.

But together?

We turned $20,000 worth of renderings into a 15-minute experiment that gave us exactly what we needed for client presentations.

The builder kept his pencil.

I kept my AI prompts.

And we both got back to making housing happen instead of debating the future.

Keep more of what you earn

Collective helps members keep more of what they earn — saving an average of $10,000 a year in taxes* — while taking countless hours of administrative work off their plates.

Your membership includes LLC and S Corp formation, payroll, monthly bookkeeping, quarterly tax estimates, annual business tax filing and more.

*Based on the average 2022 tax savings of active Collective users with an S Corp tax election for the 2022 tax year

Do you need a development co-pilot? After 30 years in the trenches, I help developers avoid expensive mistakes through strategy sessions, deal analysis, and road mapping.

Save time and money. Why navigate the development maze alone when carrying costs are eating your returns?

Hit reply with "DEVELOPMENT 911" for a no-obligation call about your project challenges, or share your biggest development headache for a free quick take.

See you next Friday.

- Greg

Greg Mills

Reply

or to participate.