In the days of the Roman Empire, an architect who built a bridge was ordered to stay under it while the scaffolding was removed. This was done to protect centurion soldiers from inferior work. Furthermore, it illustrated how confident the engineer was of his craft. He had to be so sure of his trade that he would put his own life on the line.

If the bridge were defective, it would collapse. And the architect was the first to die! In those days, a man’s ability literally determined whether he lived or died. Excellence was not “at stake.” Was mandatory!

Thinking of my profession today, I am reminded of those artisans of years past. I often reflect on his talent. And then I ask myself some important questions: Can I support the craftsmanship of my work? Am I willing to risk it? Can I withstand heavy scrutiny? Metaphorically, will this bridge collapse?

Two years ago, I went on vacation to Europe. And I saw some of the structures built during the Roman Empire. I was astonished by the painstaking work of the architects and masons. it was fascinating. My stomach burned with excitement to see his skill. I said to myself: “This is a first-rate job.” I then muttered under my breath, “What happened to that pride? And where did his craft go? Are there people today with this same passion? Besides, do they even care about his work?”

Absolutely, some of us do! I returned home from Europe with a renewed “passion for excellence”. From time to time I think of those builders of the Roman Empire. They loved their craft, and so did I. We have much in common; We’re both willing to risk it.

Continuous Improvement (CI) is all about quality and craftsmanship. At the end of the day, I look at my desk and ask myself, “Did you give your best effort… are you proud of your work?” If an expert examined my performance, would they say that it was of poor quality? Or it would stand the test of time. The final analysis of a job well done is when I can say to myself, “Remove the scaffolding.”

I remember when I was a child, how my parents required me to do a job well, or to do nothing. After sweeping the sidewalk (near the front of our house), I had to douse it with water. It had to be flawless! But most importantly, I had to pass the test of my mother’s keen eye. Little did I know, she was teaching me a lesson about precision.

Bottom line: master the art of your trade with pride. Honor those who were before you. Perform your duties in such a way that you are willing to stand behind the job. Have confidence in your ability. Figuratively speaking, no matter who crosses the bridge, it will not collapse.

Take down the scaffolding!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *