Steel, Skeptics, And The Real Innovators In U.S. Homebuilding

Homebuilding innovation is all the rage these days. Everyone's got a hot take —some swear by AI-powered hammers, others dream of houses that 3D-print themselves overnight. But if you ask where the real breakthroughs are happening, you’ll hear a lot about technology, off-site construction, foldable homes, new materials, and, of course, the occasional billionaire trying to promote living in a Yurt.

But let’s be real — innovation in homebuilding moves about as fast as a sloth on NyQuil. And when it does show up, it's usually in the weirdest way possible.

Take me, for example. Fresh out of Texas A&M, young, full of dreams, and apparently allergic to easy money, I became obsessed with steel-frame homes. I tried to launch a company around it — spoiler alert: no one cared. I got laughed out of more rooms than I can count.

It was like trying to convince Texans that brisket should be boiled.

I took my licks and was able to grow up prosper in the land business. I have always tried to learn from the best. Two years ago when I decided to return back full time in land, I went to visit Don Dykstra to get his view on the state of DFW. His company Bloomfield Homes is one of the top 5 builders in DFW.

That’s no small feat. To be at the bottom of that coveted list requires 2,000 homes a year, while the top is 8,000. Don is always willing to talk or help. He has strong opinions that people should give serious consideration to; he is proven. And when people raise the topic of unproven ideas that “he should do,” Don phrases it perfectly:

Go do that and prove it out.”

Fast-forward a few years, and surprise! The universe has a sense of humor. One of the private equity groups I consult for buys 289 acres in Lago Vista, Texas — an Austin-area failed master-planned community with everything but the houses. We’re talking finished lots, paper lots, marina rights, estate lots, condo sites, retail spots, and, ironically, a place for high-density housing (a.k.a., what Texans love to complain about).

My job? Reboot the community and make these lots valuable again. But there was a problem: no one wanted to be the first to build. Builders wanted action before committing, but there was no action without builders. It was a classic chicken-and-egg situation. Except, in this case, the egg was a vacant lot, and the chicken was a skeptical homebuilder sipping his coffee, saying:

Yeahhh, let me know when someone else jumps in.”

We needed builders. The builders wanted to see action.

What does this story have to do with innovation?

Enter Ravi Polishetty, the private equity group's leader and a guy who doesn’t wait for permission. His background? Commercial construction. His origin? India. Why does that matter? Because if you ask someone from either of those worlds how to build a house, the answer will never be “wood.” It’s steel, concrete, and Light Gauge Steel (LGS). So naturally, he designed a home... in steel.

I did a double-take.

Wait, steel? In Texas? You do know wood is still a thing, right?”

But here’s the kicker — when we ran the numbers, it turned out steel wasn't more expensive. It made so much sense that even Philip Fristo, a high-end Dallas custom homebuilder who operates in Highland Park and Preston Hollow, had to scratch his head and say:

Well, damn.”

Then the real magic happened: the house sold before we even broke ground. Let me repeat — before we even touched a shovel.

If this experiment works, we’re looking at a brand-new homebuilding company launching in Austin and Dallas, doing what everyone told me was impossible years ago — building homes out of steel and LGS.

Now, I know what you're thinking: One house doesn’t prove anything. The trades don’t know how to install LGS, wood is still “cheaper,” and subcontractors are going to have questions.

Such as:

Wait, I nail into what?”

That’s the beauty of real innovators like Ravi. They don’t flinch at problems—they bulldoze through them.

So here we are, actually doing it. And if it all works out, maybe I’ll finally get the last laugh. Or at least a steel-framed ...

I told you so."