Driving back from a job site last week, three birds were standing in the middle of the road. They were happily hopping around as little birds do. Each one could be easily craddled in my two hands like baby chicks at a farm.
The first bird saw the truck coming and lifted off into a tree. Done. The second bird watched the first one move and followed without thinking about it. Also done.
The third bird started running to get off the road. Little legs moving furiously. One inch at a time. Sprinting like its life depended on it.
I was struck by the decision. It had wings.
I caught myself thinking about that bird the whole drive home. Why did that bird run instead of fly?
How often had I chosen to run instead of flying?
What keeps me from flying immediately? Is it fear? Doubt?
Where would I be if I had chosen to fly at every instance?
What instances today do I have where I can choose to run or fly?
The pace of construction is compressing. Owners want faster precon. GCs want digital submittals. Subcontractors are being measured on response time in ways they weren't five years ago. The legacy workflows—the ones that involved a fax machine in 2009—were not designed for this speed.
If your firm hasn't started growing into AI, your competitors have. Your subs have. Some of your owners are using it to evaluate your proposals before you walk into the room.
You don't need a strategy deck. You don't need a vendor pitch. You don't need a chief AI officer.
You need to open whatever model you have access to—ChatGPT, Claude, Copilot, Gemini, the one your IT department has approved, doesn't matter—and type one sentence:
"I'm a [your role] at a [your firm type]. What questions should I be asking about using AI in my work that will prepare me for the next five years?"
Read what comes back. Ask the next question. Then the next. That's the roadmap. There's no more to it than that.
I hit the little bird who ran. Ooopsies.