Half an hour of slack a day is $16,100 a year, per person.
Your tech is out for eight hours. Here's where it actually goes:
On site, billable — 5.5 hours
Travel between jobs — 1.5
Merchant run — 0.5
Waiting, paperwork, phone — 0.5
That's 69% utilisation, and it's a normal day. Not a bad one.
Now move it to six billable hours. Not seven, not some fantasy number — half an hour. One better-sequenced route, or the materials picked up the night before instead of at 9am with everyone else.
Half an hour × 230 working days × $140 = $16,100 a year. Per person on the road.
No extra staff. No extra vehicles. No new customers to win, no quotes to write, no marketing spend. The same day, with less dead time in the middle of it.
This is the quietest lever in a trade business and almost nobody pulls it, because utilisation isn't a number anyone tracks. Revenue gets tracked. Hours on site get tracked when someone remembers. The gap between them — where all the money is — gets described as "a busy day."
Count it for one week. You'll be annoyed by what you find, and then you'll be $16,000 better off.
You do the books on Sunday nights. That habit costs $8,400 a year and you've never once priced it.
Four hours a month, more at quarter end. Call it 60 hours across the year, sat at the kitchen table after everyone's gone to bed.
A bookkeeper charges around $60 an hour and does the same work in half the time, because they do it every day and you do it twelve times a year. 30 hours, $1,800.
Your 60 hours, valued at your charge-out rate, is $8,400 of capacity.
So the trade is $1,800 of cost against $8,400 of capacity — and that's before the part where they catch the GST treatment you've had wrong for two years, or the supplier who's been billing you twice.
There is a catch, and it's the same one as the first admin hire: the $8,400 only becomes money if you fill those 60 hours with billable work. Nobody ever says this bit out loud.
If instead you fill them with a Sunday evening that isn't spent doing admin, that is a completely legitimate thing to buy — and it's worth $1,800 of anyone's money. Just be clear with yourself about which of the two you're purchasing, because they're different decisions and only one of them shows up in the accounts.
First chapter's free: https://t.co/NWoMsMEi7S
Your business makes $48,000 a year and is worth almost nothing. Here's the arithmetic.
$400,000 of revenue at a 12% net margin. $48,000 of profit. On paper, a business.
Now price it the way a buyer does. They don't get you in the deal. They have to replace you — someone to quote, schedule, handle customers, manage the crew and hold the standard when nobody's watching. That person costs $85,000 with on-costs, and that's being optimistic about finding them at all.
$48,000 minus $85,000 is negative $37,000.
That isn't a business. It's a job you own, and it sells for the value of the van and the tools.
The gap between those two things isn't revenue. Doubling the work just doubles the problem. The gap is whether the work can happen without you in the middle of every decision — written-down pricing, a quoting process someone else can run, job margins anyone can read off a sheet, a standard that lives somewhere other than your head.
And you don't have to want to sell for this to matter. The exact thing that makes a business saleable is the thing that lets you take two weeks off without the revenue stopping.
Most owners spend twenty years building the second one and calling it the first.
First chapter's free: https://t.co/NWoMsMEi7S
Half an hour of slack a day is $16,100 a year, per person.
Your tech is out for eight hours. Here's where it actually goes:
On site, billable — 5.5 hours
Travel between jobs — 1.5
Merchant run — 0.5
Waiting, paperwork, phone — 0.5
That's 69% utilisation, and it's a normal day. Not a bad one.
Now move it to six billable hours. Not seven, not some fantasy number — half an hour. One better-sequenced route, or the materials picked up the night before instead of at 9am with everyone else.
Half an hour × 230 working days × $140 = $16,100 a year. Per person on the road.
No extra staff. No extra vehicles. No new customers to win, no quotes to write, no marketing spend. The same day, with less dead time in the middle of it.
This is the quietest lever in a trade business and almost nobody pulls it, because utilisation isn't a number anyone tracks. Revenue gets tracked. Hours on site get tracked when someone remembers. The gap between them — where all the money is — gets described as "a busy day."
Count it for one week. You'll be annoyed by what you find, and then you'll be $16,000 better off.
You do the books on Sunday nights. That habit costs $8,400 a year and you've never once priced it.
Four hours a month, more at quarter end. Call it 60 hours across the year, sat at the kitchen table after everyone's gone to bed.
A bookkeeper charges around $60 an hour and does the same work in half the time, because they do it every day and you do it twelve times a year. 30 hours, $1,800.
Your 60 hours, valued at your charge-out rate, is $8,400 of capacity.
So the trade is $1,800 of cost against $8,400 of capacity — and that's before the part where they catch the GST treatment you've had wrong for two years, or the supplier who's been billing you twice.
There is a catch, and it's the same one as the first admin hire: the $8,400 only becomes money if you fill those 60 hours with billable work. Nobody ever says this bit out loud.
If instead you fill them with a Sunday evening that isn't spent doing admin, that is a completely legitimate thing to buy — and it's worth $1,800 of anyone's money. Just be clear with yourself about which of the two you're purchasing, because they're different decisions and only one of them shows up in the accounts.
First chapter's free: https://t.co/NWoMsMEi7S
Two techs. Both busy. Both well liked. One of them is costing you $45,000 a year.
You know your overall margin. You almost certainly don't know it per person, and that's where the number is hiding.
Tech A: 1,400 billable hours, $196,000 invoiced, rarely goes back to a job.
Tech B: 1,150 billable hours, $161,000 invoiced, and about 6% of his work comes back.
The $35,000 revenue gap is visible if you ever look. The callback gap isn't: 6% of 1,150 hours is 69 hours of rework, which at $140 of charge-out is $9,660 of capacity burned on work you'd already been paid for once.
$45,000, and from where you stand both men look equally flat out. They leave at the same time. They both say the day was busy. Neither of them is lying.
This isn't an argument for firing anyone — it's almost never a character problem. It's that the fix for B, whether that's training, a checklist on the jobs he keeps getting wrong, or simply a different mix of work, is worth $45,000 a year.
And you cannot make that decision, or even know it's available, while the number doesn't exist.
One column on the job sheet. Who did it. That's all it takes to start.
Your business makes $48,000 a year and is worth almost nothing. Here's the arithmetic.
$400,000 of revenue at a 12% net margin. $48,000 of profit. On paper, a business.
Now price it the way a buyer does. They don't get you in the deal. They have to replace you — someone to quote, schedule, handle customers, manage the crew and hold the standard when nobody's watching. That person costs $85,000 with on-costs, and that's being optimistic about finding them at all.
$48,000 minus $85,000 is negative $37,000.
That isn't a business. It's a job you own, and it sells for the value of the van and the tools.
The gap between those two things isn't revenue. Doubling the work just doubles the problem. The gap is whether the work can happen without you in the middle of every decision — written-down pricing, a quoting process someone else can run, job margins anyone can read off a sheet, a standard that lives somewhere other than your head.
And you don't have to want to sell for this to matter. The exact thing that makes a business saleable is the thing that lets you take two weeks off without the revenue stopping.
Most owners spend twenty years building the second one and calling it the first.
First chapter's free: https://t.co/NWoMsMEi7S
Seven percent. New quotes only. Callout first. Count for six weeks.
That's the whole thing, and it's the fastest money available to a trade business that isn't already in trouble.
First chapter's free: https://t.co/1jDj1BCgou
5. Count what actually happens.
Track your close rate for six weeks.
Unchanged? You left money on the table and should go again. Down more than ten points? You're near the ceiling for now.
Either answer is information you've never had about your own business.
That $200 job made you $19.
Every job carries fixed cost before any work happens. The call, the quote, the drive, the setup, the pack-down, the invoice, the follow-up when it doesn't get paid. Two hours of non-billable time per job, and that's being generous to yourself.
At a $46 loaded cost, that's $92 the job has to cover before a spanner moves.
So: a $200 job, about an hour and a half on site.
Fixed cost per job — $92
Labour on site — $69
Materials — $20
Total $181. You made $19.
Nineteen dollars. For a slot in the diary, a drive across town, and a job that pushed something else back.
This is what a minimum charge is for, and it isn't about punishing small customers — it's the opposite. It's what makes the small job worth doing, so you can keep saying yes to the people who only ever need an hour of your time.
Most trades need a minimum somewhere around two to two and a half hours of charge-out. Without one, every small job on your books is quietly subsidised by your big ones, and the busier you get with small work the worse the month looks.
The owners who are flat out and broke at the same time are almost always running without one.
Your supplier has three prices and you've been on the second one for years.
Trade accounts are tiered. There's list price, there's the standard account price, and there's the negotiated price. Most small operators sit on the middle one indefinitely and treat it as a fact of nature.
It isn't. It's the price for people who don't ask.
On $140,000 of annual materials, moving 4% is $5,600. If you run a 12% net margin, $5,600 of profit is what $46,667 of extra revenue would have produced. One phone call versus a month and a half of selling.
What to ask for is specific. Not "any chance of a discount" — that's a favour, and favours get quietly withdrawn when your rep changes. Ask what your annual spend with them was, in writing, and what tier that volume qualifies for. Tiers are a category. Categories stick.
If they won't move, get a quote from their competitor on your twenty most-bought lines. That piece of paper is useful whether you switch or not, and it's the only thing that reliably changes the first answer.
The worst outcome here is that nothing changes and you've lost twenty minutes.
Two techs. Both busy. Both well liked. One of them is costing you $45,000 a year.
You know your overall margin. You almost certainly don't know it per person, and that's where the number is hiding.
Tech A: 1,400 billable hours, $196,000 invoiced, rarely goes back to a job.
Tech B: 1,150 billable hours, $161,000 invoiced, and about 6% of his work comes back.
The $35,000 revenue gap is visible if you ever look. The callback gap isn't: 6% of 1,150 hours is 69 hours of rework, which at $140 of charge-out is $9,660 of capacity burned on work you'd already been paid for once.
$45,000, and from where you stand both men look equally flat out. They leave at the same time. They both say the day was busy. Neither of them is lying.
This isn't an argument for firing anyone — it's almost never a character problem. It's that the fix for B, whether that's training, a checklist on the jobs he keeps getting wrong, or simply a different mix of work, is worth $45,000 a year.
And you cannot make that decision, or even know it's available, while the number doesn't exist.
One column on the job sheet. Who did it. That's all it takes to start.
You charge the same at 9pm as you do at 9am. That decision costs you $8,400 a year.
The phone goes at nine. You answer, because you always answer. You go out, because someone has water coming through a ceiling.
And you bill your standard rate, because putting it up feels like taking advantage of someone having a bad night.
Here's what that hour actually costs: an evening, the goodwill of whoever you were with, and a tired start tomorrow that quietly takes an hour off your productivity and never gets attributed to it.
Say 40 after-hours callouts a year at three hours each. 120 hours. Moving from $140 to $210 — a standard 1.5×, not a gouge — is $8,400.
And the objection you're bracing for mostly doesn't come. People calling at 9pm have already decided it can't wait until morning. They aren't price-shopping, because there's nobody to shop — which is exactly why they're calling you and not the big outfit with the answering service.
An after-hours rate isn't greed. It's the price of something genuinely scarce, which is you, at night.
The real cost of not having one isn't the $8,400. It's that you've quietly decided your evenings are worth nothing, and on that basis you'll keep answering that phone for another ten years.
That $200 job made you $19.
Every job carries fixed cost before any work happens. The call, the quote, the drive, the setup, the pack-down, the invoice, the follow-up when it doesn't get paid. Two hours of non-billable time per job, and that's being generous to yourself.
At a $46 loaded cost, that's $92 the job has to cover before a spanner moves.
So: a $200 job, about an hour and a half on site.
Fixed cost per job — $92
Labour on site — $69
Materials — $20
Total $181. You made $19.
Nineteen dollars. For a slot in the diary, a drive across town, and a job that pushed something else back.
This is what a minimum charge is for, and it isn't about punishing small customers — it's the opposite. It's what makes the small job worth doing, so you can keep saying yes to the people who only ever need an hour of your time.
Most trades need a minimum somewhere around two to two and a half hours of charge-out. Without one, every small job on your books is quietly subsidised by your big ones, and the busier you get with small work the worse the month looks.
The owners who are flat out and broke at the same time are almost always running without one.