The Cost Of Integrity
There’s a before and after. Before, I was tired. Real tired. Three kids, a house that needed fixing, and a job where the easy way paid better. I’d cut corners on the wiring—skipped the proper junction box, used cheaper wire, just to get the job done faster. Made a few extra bucks, felt like a hero for keeping the lights on for that family. Look, I’m no expert on ethics, but I figured if nobody got hurt, it was fine. Until it almost did.
It was a Tuesday. Kids were at school, I was finishing up a new circuit in that old bungalow. I’d been rushing, trying to get home for dinner. I’d just shoved the wires into the box, not properly secured, and taped it over. Then the smell hit me—hot plastic, like burning hair. I looked down. The tape was smoking. Right where I’d cut the corner. One spark away from a fire that could’ve taken that whole house. My hands were shaking worse than the wires.
I stood there, sweat mixing with the dust on my face. That moment wasn’t about the money I’d saved. It was about the kid who’d be home alone next time I cut corners. The one who’d be in that house if it burned. I’d been running on empty, thinking integrity was a luxury I couldn’t afford. But that smell? That was the cost. Not money. Safety. Trust. My own damn peace of mind.
Here’s what I figured out: Integrity isn’t free. It costs time. It costs money. It costs you the easy way out. But it costs way more to not do it. So I started doing the work right. Proper boxes. Proper wire. Took the time. Took the hit on the paycheck. And you know what? The clients noticed. They trusted me more. My kids noticed too. When I told them I’d been working late because I wanted the wiring right, not just fast, they looked at me like I was something more than just a tired old man.
I’m not a saint. I still get tired. But now I know the cost of cutting corners isn’t just in the bill—it’s in the quiet moments when you look your kids in the eye and wonder if you did the right thing. You just do the next thing. The right thing. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.
— Jimmy Hawkins, just a dad figuring it out