The Death of Craftsmanship
Why fewer people take pride in doing things exceptionally well.
A few weeks ago, I was talking with my son after an open gym he attended.
There had been a little tension between him and another guy there. Nothing major. Just some edge in the interaction.
“What happened?” I asked.
He shrugged. “He’s just a try hard.”
“A try hard?” I replied. “What’s that?”
“It’s someone who always goes really hard,” he said. “Like, every play. Every drill.”
“So… someone who always gives their best?” I asked.
He paused. “Yeah. Even when it’s just chill.”
I looked at him and said, “How is that a bad thing?”
He did not have a great answer. And honestly, neither did I.
But it got me thinking.
When did our society decide that trying hard is something to be mocked? When did consistent effort become cringe? When did excellence start looking like insecurity?
At some point, “try hard” stopped being a compliment and started being an insult.
And that shift says more about us than we might like to admit.
The Standard We Quietly Lowered
There is an old quote I love: How you do anything is how you do everything.
It is simple. It is confronting. And it is deeply unpopular in a culture that increasingly values comfort over craft.
Craftsmanship used to mean something.
It meant the carpenter who squared every joint even if no one would see it.
The mechanic who torqued every bolt to spec.
The writer who rewrote a sentence ten times because it was not quite right.
The small business owner who returned calls promptly and kept their word.
The husband who paid attention.
The friend who showed up.
Craftsmanship was not about applause. It was about integrity.
It was about doing something well because it was worth doing well.
Today, we often settle for good enough. Or worse, we hide our effort behind a layer of detachment.
We have quietly lowered the standard.
From Craft to Convenience
In the trades, speed frequently trumps precision. Corners are cut because margins are tight and timelines are tighter. The pride that once came from saying, “That will outlast me,” is replaced with, “It passed inspection.”
In writing, depth is sacrificed for clicks. Nuance gives way to hot takes. The goal is not clarity or insight. It is engagement.
In service businesses, we see the same drift. Automated responses. Minimal follow up. Deliver the bare minimum to avoid complaint rather than exceed expectations to earn loyalty.
Convenience wins. Craft loses.
The Casual Erosion of Relationships
And in relationships, perhaps the most sacred arena of craftsmanship, we are told not to care too much.
Do not text back too quickly.
Do not appear overly invested.
Do not be a try hard.
It is a strange time when effort is embarrassing and apathy is cool.
But relationships, like businesses and buildings, do not thrive on cool detachment. They thrive on attention. On presence. On intentional effort.
Anything less slowly erodes what could have been exceptional.
Apathy as Armor
Here is the hard truth. Mocking effort is often a defense mechanism.
When someone else tries hard, it exposes our own half measures. When someone goes all in, it confronts our decision to coast.
Calling someone a try hard is easier than admitting we are not trying very hard ourselves.
The death of craftsmanship is not about skill. It is about standards.
We praise balance but confuse it with disengagement. We talk about boundaries but use them to justify mediocrity. We celebrate authenticity but dismiss discipline.
None of this means you need to sprint through life at full intensity every second. There is wisdom in rest. There is wisdom in play.
But there is also something deeply admirable about the person who, even in a low stakes open gym, chooses to give their best.
Habits Are Built in the Small Moments
Because habits are not situational. They are formed in the small moments.
How you run a drill.
How you answer an email.
How you treat a waiter.
How you finish a project no one is watching.
How you do anything is how you do everything.
When we normalize coasting in the small things, we should not be surprised when we coast in the big ones.
The Return to Craftsmanship
Craftsmanship is not about perfectionism. It is about posture.
It is a decision to bring care to your work.
To bring presence to your relationships.
To bring excellence to your commitments.
Even when it is just chill.
Especially when it is just chill.
Because the person who consistently tries hard is not insecure. They are practicing. They are building a standard. They are becoming someone.
And that matters far beyond the gym.
If we want better businesses, better writing, better trades, better families, and better communities, the answer is not another app or system.
It is a return to pride in our craft.
A rejection of the idea that effort is embarrassing.
A willingness to be the person who gives their best, not occasionally, but habitually.
Call it old fashioned.
Call it intense.
Call it try hard.
I will take it as a compliment.