Why Sometimes The Nicest Thing You Can Do For Your Team Might Feel Mean Alright, I'm just going to say it... Your "positivity" might be setting your team up for failure. I've heard this story dozens of times over the years: An employee at a shop gets let go—and they're completely blindsided. "I had no idea there was a problem." How does that happen? A few years back, I was working with a shop that had a young tech. Smart kid. Good hands. Showed up early. But he was paralyzed by the fear of making a mistake. Every diagnosis, he second-guessed himself. Every repair, he'd check and re-check. He'd hover near the service writer hoping someone would tell him he was doing okay. Nobody did. Not because they didn't think he was doing okay—but because they assumed he knew. "He's doing fine. Why would I need to say anything?" Meanwhile, this kid is drowning in silence. Interpreting "no feedback" as "I'm probably screwing up." He quit. Not because the job was too hard. Not because he wasn't capable. Because he couldn't stand the pressure of not knowing where he stood. A simple monthly 1-on-1 could have saved him. Here's the distinction many shop owners and managers miss: There's a difference between a coach and a cheerleader. A cheerleader says: "Great job! Great job! Great job!... Okay, you're fired." A coach says: "Here's what you're doing well. Here's what needs work. Here's how we're going to get you there." Cheerleaders make people feel good in the moment. Coaches make people feel secure—because they always know where they stand. When I onboard a new shop, I always ask: - What's your 1-on-1 meeting cadence? - What's your team meeting rhythm? - How do you remove obstacles for your people? - How do you get in front of problems so they don't cause drama in the shop? Most of the time? Crickets. Or else it's sporadic and inconsistent. And I get it. You're busy. You're in the weeds. You assume if something's wrong, they'll tell you. But here's the truth:

Here's a quick reminder on a powerful way to turn every tech interview into 3 hiring opportunities (even when they don't work out). Most shop owners treat interviews as pass/fail. Either you hire them, or the conversation was a waste. But what if every single interview—even the ones that don't result in a hire—could become a source of future talent? Here's a strategy I've shared before but it's worth repeating: At the end of every conversation with a technician—whether they're a perfect fit, not quite ready, or even if the timing just doesn't work—ask them this: "I know you're going to do your homework on us. We're also going to do our homework on you. Can you give me the name and contact information for two of the best technicians you've ever worked with so they can put in a good word for the quality of work you do?" That's it. Why this works: → It's flattering, not threatening. You're asking them to showcase their reputation. → Good techs know good techs. The referral quality is higher than cold applications. → Less skilled techs also know good techs. Don't skip conversations with techs that don't look great on paper. If they've worked in a professional shop, they've probably worked shoulder to shoulder with someone who would be a good fit for you. → It turns every 1 opportunity into 3 opportunities. → Even if THIS candidate doesn't work out, you've just added 2 warm leads to your bench. I hear from shop owners every quarter who've made hires using this exact strategy—often hiring someone from a referral when the original candidate didn't pan out. In a market where getting in front of quality techs is half the battle, this is how you squeeze the juice out of every opportunity. Try it in your next interview. Let me know what happens.

Happy New Year! I've been thinking about something this morning that I want to share with you. A few years ago, I got a message from a shop owner I'd worked with. He told me that the technician we'd helped him hire had just fixed a brake issue on a young mom's minivan. She'd been putting it off for months—couldn't afford the time or money. The tech stayed late to get it done. Gave her a fair price. She drove out of that shop with safe brakes and tears in her eyes. That tech wasn't a unicorn. He was a good technician who finally found a great shop. And when those two things link up, something bigger happens. A family drives safer. A shop thrives. A technician does work that actually matters. That's what this whole thing is about. I know 2025 might have been hard. Maybe you lost a tech you thought would stay. Maybe you're still short-staffed. Maybe you're tired of the hustle. But here's what I want you to hear today: You are building something that matters. Every oil change, every diagnostic, every brake job... you're keeping families safe on the road. That's not a small thing. That's an enormous thing that most people will never understand. And 2026? It's a blank page. You get to decide what you write on it. More importantly, you get to decide who you're becoming as you write it. Not just "shop owner." Not just "the guy who fixes cars." You have the chance this year to become the leader your team didn't know they needed. The shop that the best tech in your town is secretly hoping exists. The place where someone finally feels respected, challenged, and valued. That transformation doesn't happen by accident. It happens by decision. So here's what I want you to do: Take 5 minutes today. Write down one thing you're going to do differently this year to make your shop the kind of place a great technician would never want to leave. Then drop it in the comments. I want to see it. I want this community to see it. Because when we share our commitments out loud, they become real.

I'm running a side experiment with @Brian Nerger to augment his current technician hiring campaign... Ever wonder what would happen if you built your entire hiring strategy around a single, ideal technician? We're doing it now. Meet Jason Reeves. He's not real… but he might as well be. This little experiment changed how I think about recruiting and I can't wait to report the results. 👇 Curious? Take a look at Jason's "Wanted Poster" and tell me what stands out to you. (And yes—you probably have a Jason out there looking for you too.)

I was on a call this week with a very sharp shop owner couple. Husband's a former tech. They're in a small town—less than 20,000 people. A few years ago, they hit what felt like a wall. They were doing just over $1 million. And the wife said something that stuck with me: "I thought we had hit the pinnacle." That was it. That was the ceiling. Small town. Limited population. Can't grow past this. Makes sense, right? Then they joined a coaching program (you probably know the one, the headline of this post is the tip off). And here's where it gets interesting. They didn't learn some secret marketing hack. They didn't find a magical recruiting source. They didn't suddenly discover a pool of hidden A-techs in their area. What they discovered was that they were the problem. The wife put it simply: "Their whole big thing is fix the owner, fix the shop. And that's truly what ended up happening. We had to get fixed before we could fix the shop." This year? They're on track to more than double revenues. Same small town. Same people. Same market. The only thing that changed was them. Here's the lesson: The gap between where you are and where you want to be is rarely a strategy gap. It's an identity gap. You can't build something bigger than your current self-concept allows. These two had accidentally built a culture where everything came back to them. The staff would ask permission for things they were already empowered to decide. They called it the "What Would [Owners] Do" problem. Every decision, every question—back to mom and dad. And why? Because the owners hadn't done the internal work to trust their team. To let go. To see themselves as something other than the smartest person in the room who had to approve everything. The moment they fixed that—the revenue followed. So here's my question for you this weekend: Where might YOU be the ceiling? Not the market. Not the tech shortage. Not your town's population. Not the economy. You. What belief about yourself or your shop is keeping the lid on?