Your Techs Don't Know Why Jobs Are Priced — and It Shows
Your Techs Don't Know Why Jobs Are Priced — and It Shows
I rode along on a service call in month four of running Reeves Electric. My tech — solid guy, two years with me at Lonestar before I went out on my own — was standing in front of a Federal Pacific panel in a 1968 ranch off Slaughter Lane, explaining to a homeowner why the EV charger quote wasn't going to be $599. He stumbled. He hedged. He said "I think it's around" three times in ninety seconds. The homeowner thanked him politely and said she'd get another quote.
She did. She booked the other guy. I found out because she left us a two-star review that said the technician seemed unsure about what the job involved.
He wasn't unsure about the job. He was unsure about the number. And nobody had ever told him why.
Why Hiding Pricing From Your Techs Costs You Jobs
At Lonestar Electrical Services, pricing lived in a spreadsheet that project managers accessed and journeymen never saw. I was a journeyman there for seven years. I knew how to run conduit, pull wire, terminate gear, coordinate inspections. I had no idea what a job cost to deliver or what the margin target was. When a GC pushed back on scope creep, I had nothing to say. I'd mumble something about talking to my PM and get out of the conversation fast.
Nobody told me I was supposed to handle that conversation. Nobody told me what information I'd need to handle it well. The pricing was locked away because the people who set it assumed that keeping it locked was safer than teaching it.
When I started Reeves Electric, I assumed the same thing. Then my NPS in month two came back at a 4. I started answering every call myself, ninety days straight, taking notes on what was actually breaking. The intake process was a disaster — that part I knew. What I didn't know until I started riding along is that the field pricing conversation was just as broken. My techs were leaving scope on the table, underquoting complexity, and going quiet the moment a customer pushed back. I couldn't see it from my desk. I had to watch it happen in person to understand what was missing.
What was missing was context. Not sales training. Context.
What to Tell Them — and What to Keep at Your Desk
Someone reads the headline and assumes the answer is: show your techs the P&L. That's not what I'm saying.
Your net margin, your owner's draw, your overhead allocation — none of that needs to leave your desk. That belongs in QuickBooks behind a password.
What your tech needs is different. For each job type they run, they need to know what that job costs to deliver and why it's priced where it is. That's it.
At Reeves Electric, we run flat-rate on panel upgrades, EV charger installs, and GFCI/AFCI retrofits. Each of those has a documented cost-of-delivery that every tech learns in onboarding. A 200-amp panel upgrade is priced at $3,800 because it's a full day for two people, roughly $600 in materials, permit and inspection fees, and load calc time. The tech knows that. They can walk a customer through it if the customer asks. They're not guessing and they're not hedging.
What they don't know is what I pay myself or what my truck payment is. That information doesn't make them better in the field. The cost-of-delivery number does.
The number the tech needs is the floor and the reason. The number the accountant needs is the margin and the allocation. Two different numbers. Most shop owners treat them as the same thing and lock both away because they're trying to protect the second one.
Upsell Paralysis Is an Information Problem
The phrase I hear most when shop owners talk about field upsells is some variation of "he's just not a salesperson." Sometimes that's true. More often it's a convenient explanation for something that's actually upstream of personality.
I spent months assuming one of my guys was conflict-averse. Then I rode along and watched him work. He didn't know what a reasonable add-on looked like on an EV charger job. Specifically: he didn't know that surfacing a Federal Pacific at the panel was supposed to change the conversation, or what that change was supposed to sound like. Once I showed him what the scope difference looked like in the app — $1,190 charger-only versus $6,400 panel-plus-charger — and walked through why both numbers were what they were, his average ticket went up. His personality didn't change. His information did.
The EV charger market is the clearest example I can give you of what this costs.
A tech who doesn't understand the difference between a clean-run charger install and a panel-plus-service upgrade job cannot have an honest conversation at the panel. When they pull the cover and see a 100-amp Federal Pacific with six spaces left and a meter base on the wrong side of the house, they've got two options: go quiet and let the customer assume the cheap number is coming, or say something vague that sounds like hedging even when it isn't. Either way, the customer gets a number later they weren't prepared for, and that conversation goes badly.
The tech wasn't dishonest. He was uninformed. The customer couldn't tell the difference, and neither could the two-star review.
The fix isn't teaching techs to sell. It's teaching them what a job actually contains, so they can scope it honestly before anyone mentions a number.
The Slaughter Lane Call, What I Got Wrong, and What I Changed
After the two-star review went up, I called the tech. Not to discipline him — I didn't think he'd done anything wrong. I called to understand what happened. He walked me through the visit. He'd seen the Federal Pacific, known it was a problem, known the scope was bigger than a standard charger install. But when the homeowner asked for a ballpark, he didn't have one. He hadn't been told what a panel upgrade plus service upgrade plus charger run priced at. He'd never seen the cost breakdown. So he stayed vague — and then I called her that evening to explain the real scope, and she felt bait-and-switched even though we had never quoted her a number.
That's the pattern. The customer fills the silence with the number they want to hear. Then the real number arrives and the relationship breaks.
After month four, I started riding along specifically to find where pricing conversations went sideways. Every call I tagged, same question: where did the tech go quiet? What I found is that the silence almost always landed in the same spot — right after the tech identified complexity, right before the customer asked what it meant for the price. That gap is the problem. Close it with information and the silence mostly goes away.
How I Actually Structure This at Reeves Electric
Here's what I do now, built after watching enough Slaughter Lane calls to know what was actually breaking.
In onboarding, every tech gets flat-rate prices for our most common job types visible in Jobber at the line-item level. They see $1,190 for a GFCI retrofit on a 10-circuit kitchen before they ring the doorbell. They also get trained on the scope questions that surface complexity before anyone quotes anything — panel size, last inspection date, where the meter base sits relative to the work. Not because those questions close sales. Because those questions are how you find out what you're actually quoting before you say a number out loud.
After ninety days, I have a cost-of-delivery conversation with each tech, one job type at a time, starting with whatever they run most. Materials line by line, labor hours, permit, inspection fee, load calc time. One page, reviewed together. Not overhead, not my margin — just the cost-to-deliver floor and why the price sits where it does. Takes one thirty-minute conversation per job type. You'll repeat it a couple times before it sticks.
Then there's the Friday debrief. Fifteen minutes, me or my dispatcher, two or three jobs from the week. What the job was priced at, what it actually cost to run, whether scope got surfaced or missed. If a tech flagged a Federal Pacific and the customer booked a panel upgrade, we talk through what that conversation looked like. If a tech saw the same panel and said nothing, we talk through that too — not as a correction, as a debrief. What was missing? What would have been useful to know?
I run my financials on a weekly review, monthly close, quarterly planning cadence. This is the same thing applied to field pricing. The Friday debrief is what makes the cost-of-delivery training stick. One conversation in onboarding won't hold. A standing fifteen minutes on Fridays becomes the culture.
FAQ
Should techs know job pricing if I'm worried they'll use it to go start their own company?
A tech who wants to go independent is going to do it. Flat-rate prices aren't a secret from anyone who's run service calls for a few years — they'll figure out the numbers eventually, from competitors, from suppliers, from talking to other guys. What actually keeps good techs is comp, real opportunity, and a place that doesn't feel like a dead end. If someone leaves because they learned what a panel upgrade costs to deliver, that retention problem started long before that conversation.
What if techs start pushing back on our pricing because they think it's too high?
Have the conversation. A tech who thinks a job is overpriced is either seeing something real in the market — worth knowing — or they don't fully understand the cost-of-delivery yet. Either way you get somewhere by talking through the numbers. The tech who silently disagrees and lets that uncertainty leak into customer conversations is the actual problem. Surface it, work through the cost breakdown together, and you usually end up with a tech who can defend the price because they actually understand it.
When should I share margin targets, not just cost-of-delivery?
Not in the first six months. After that, something like "we need to be north of 40% gross on flat-rate work to cover fixed costs and make payroll reliably" gives a tech enough to understand why you can't discount on the fly. Full P&L visibility — owner's draw, overhead, net margin — I keep that for anyone moving into a lead role, and even then I'm selective. The point is enough context to make good field decisions. Not a finance class.
How do I run the Friday debrief without it feeling like I'm grading people?
Keep everything attached to the job, not to who ran it. What was this job priced at, what did it cost to run, what got surfaced or missed — no names on anything that went sideways, at least in a group setting. Individual coaching moments are one-on-one, not team business. The debrief works best when techs start bringing their own cases and the group problem-solves together. That takes a couple months of showing up consistently before it happens on its own.
My techs are in Jobber and can see line-item prices. Isn't that already enough?
Seeing a number and knowing what's behind it are different things. If a tech sees $3,800 for a 200-amp upgrade in the app but has no idea what goes into that price, they can't hold the line when a customer says "the other guy quoted me $2,900." The app gives them the number. The cost-of-delivery conversation gives them the reason. You need both.
How do I handle a tech who quoted a job wrong in the field before any of this was in place?
Resolve the customer situation first. Whatever the dispute — change order, bad review, scope disagreement — get it clean before you talk to the tech. Then debrief on what information they were missing, not what they did wrong. "You didn't know the right price because I hadn't told you what goes into it" is an honest framing, and in most shops that haven't done this work yet, it's also true. That conversation builds more trust than anything else I've tried. And it makes the next Friday debrief a lot easier to run.
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