What If HUD-Code and Modular Homes Finally Shared the Same Frame?

Before the Road to Housing Act was passed, several of the nation’s largest manufactured home companies were already exploring a significant change beneath their homes.

They were looking at whether the permanent steel chassis traditionally required under a HUD-code manufactured home could be removed and replaced with wood rim joists. If approved, the change would allow manufactured homes to use essentially the same type of perimeter floor system commonly found in modular homes built to state and local building codes.

That possibility could reduce material costs, eliminate some of the visual and structural distinctions between manufactured and modular construction, and give HUD-code producers greater flexibility when designing homes for subdivisions and residential developments.

Then another question began to emerge.

Instead of removing steel from HUD-code homes so they can resemble modular homes, what if both HUD-code and modular factories could use a better steel perimeter frame that becomes a permanent part of the home?

That is the idea behind Uni-Frame.

Two Industries Looking at the Same Problem

Manufactured and modular homes may travel down similar factory production lines, but they leave those factories under different regulatory systems.

HUD-code manufactured homes are constructed on permanent steel chassis designed to remain with the home. Modular homes are typically built with wood or light-gauge steel floor systems and transported on reusable carriers that must be returned to the factory.

Each system presents its own problems.

The permanent chassis adds steel, weight and cost to manufactured homes, even when the house will eventually be placed on a permanent foundation. Traditional modular construction avoids that permanent chassis, but it requires factories to own, maintain, store and retrieve large fleets of carriers.

Those carriers must be available when a module is ready to leave the production line. They must also survive long trips, rough jobsites, worn tires, damaged axles and the occasional driver who treats a pothole like a personal challenge.

When carriers are not returned quickly enough, completed modules can begin accumulating in factory yards. Production may slow simply because the factory has run out of equipment on which to ship its homes.

Neither system is perfect.

What Uni-Frame Changes

Uni-Frame proposes replacing conventional wood or light-gauge steel rim joists with an engineered steel perimeter frame that becomes part of the completed home.

Temporary front and rear transportation assemblies can be attached to that frame when the module leaves the factory. After the module reaches the jobsite, those components can be removed, leaving the structural steel perimeter as part of the building.

The factory would no longer need to send a full-length carrier beneath every modular box. More importantly, it would not have to wait for that carrier to return before shipping another module.

For HUD-code producers, the concept raises an equally interesting possibility. If federal regulations eventually allow alternatives to the conventional permanent chassis, an integrated perimeter frame could provide the transportation strength required during delivery without leaving a traditional chassis beneath the house.

Instead of manufactured homes moving toward wood modular construction, both industries could potentially move toward a shared engineered-steel solution.

The Road to Housing Act Could Open the Conversation

The Road to Housing Act will not automatically make every new frame system acceptable. HUD-code construction and modular construction still operate under different approval, engineering, and inspection processes.

Any new framing and transportation system must prove it can withstand factory handling, highway transportation, lifting, setting, and decades of service after installation. Regulators, engineers, manufacturers, transporters, builders and inspectors will all want answers.

Factories will also want to know whether the system works with their existing production lines, fastening methods, floor assemblies and transportation equipment. Builders will ask how modules are set and connected. Developers will want to know whether the finished cost is lower, higher or simply shifted from one part of the process to another.

Those are legitimate questions, and Uni-Frame will have to answer them with engineering, testing, field experience and measurable savings.

But this may be the right moment to start asking them.

A Shared Platform Could Change the Industry

The most interesting part of Uni-Frame may not be the steel itself. It may be the potential to create a common structural and transportation platform that can serve more than one segment of factory-built housing.

Manufactured housing companies are examining ways to make their homes more acceptable in conventional residential developments. Modular factories are looking for ways to reduce carrier costs, transportation delays, and the capital tied up in equipment sitting hundreds of miles from the plant.

Both are trying to build more homes while controlling costs and eliminating bottlenecks.

Perhaps the answer isn't forcing HUD-code homes to become more like modular homes, or modular homes to become more like manufactured homes. Perhaps the better answer is to let both industries adopt a system designed around how homes need to be produced, transported, and installed today.

Gary’s Observation

For decades, manufactured and modular housing have been separated by codes, terminology and the type of frame beneath the floor. Uni-Frame challenges us to consider whether that dividing line still makes sense.

The Road to Housing Act may have created an opportunity to reconsider some long-standing requirements. If it did, the industry should not limit the discussion to removing steel and returning to wood.

We should also ask whether a different kind of steel frame could help both industries build, transport, and install homes more efficiently. Sometimes innovation is not about choosing between two existing systems. It is about recognizing that both may be ready for something new.

What Can Happen When a Successful Offsite Factory Becomes Too Comfortable?

Most offsite factory owners, upper management teams, and boards do not lose momentum because business suddenly turns bad. In many cases, they begin losing momentum while the company still appears healthy.

The phones are ringing, homes are shipping, margins are acceptable, and the backlog looks reasonably strong. Nobody calls a special meeting to announce that the company has stopped building for the future. It simply happens, one comfortable decision at a time, as leadership gradually shifts from improving the business to protecting what already exists.

The Dangerous Middle Years

I have watched this change begin somewhere between a factory’s fourth and seventh years. The chaos of the startup period has passed, the original fear of failure has faded, and many of the early problems have been patched well enough to keep production moving.

That should be the point when leadership begins preparing for its next stage of growth. Instead, it can become the moment when everyone decides the current systems are good enough.

The factory may still use spreadsheets created when production was half its current volume. Design problems may be corrected on the production line instead of being eliminated in engineering. Scheduling conflicts are handled through phone calls, favors, and last-minute changes because “that’s the way we’ve always done it.”

Nothing appears serious enough to demand immediate attention. Taken together, however, those small compromises begin defining the company’s culture.

When Workarounds Become the Operating System

Every factory needs an occasional workaround. The danger begins when temporary fixes become permanent procedures, and the people using them no longer recognize them as problems.

A missing component is expedited. A design error is corrected on the line. An experienced employee steps in to solve another department’s scheduling problem. The house gets completed, management praises the team for pulling together, and everyone moves on to the next unit.

The immediate problem was solved, but the root cause was never addressed. Eventually, the factory becomes dependent on a handful of experienced people who know how to work around broken systems.

At that point, inefficiency can begin looking like teamwork.

Innovation Starts Feeling Like a Threat

The clearest sign of complacency is not a lack of ideas. It is what happens when someone introduces one.

A manager suggests automation, a new material, a different transportation system, another product line, or entry into a new market. Instead of asking what the idea could improve, the first reaction is often concern about what it might disrupt.

Will it slow production? Will employees resist it? Will dealers understand it? Will the building officials approve it? Will it interfere with the backlog?

Those are legitimate questions, but they can also become convenient reasons to postpone every meaningful change. Innovation is moved to next quarter, next year, or until the backlog slows down. When the backlog finally does slow, the company may no longer have the cash, talent, or confidence to act.

Boards Can Protect Yesterday’s Success

Boards sometimes accelerate this loss of momentum without realizing it. When nearly every discussion centers on short-term EBITDA, production totals, and quarterly margins, innovation starts to look like an expense rather than a strategy.

A proposal for new equipment, software, training, or product development may be required to prove an immediate return. Meanwhile, the cost of keeping outdated systems rarely faces the same level of scrutiny.

What does another year of rework cost? How much management time is spent solving preventable problems? How many sales are lost because the factory cannot offer what the market now wants? What happens when the company’s most experienced problem-solver retires?

Doing nothing also carries a cost. It simply does not arrive as one convenient invoice.

The Factory Stops Looking Outside

Another warning sign appears when leadership stops seriously studying what is happening beyond its own walls. Management compares the factory only with nearby competitors, dismisses new ideas because they have not been widely proven in modular construction, and treats labor shortages, transportation problems, and code friction as permanent facts of life.

The offsite industry is not competing only with other modular and manufactured housing factories. It is competing for labor, capital, technology, materials, customers, and public attention with industries that are changing much faster.

When leadership stops attending events, visiting other operations, speaking with innovators, or challenging its own assumptions, stagnation has already begun. The visible consequences may not appear for another 12 to 24 months, but by the time everyone agrees there is a problem, many of the best options may be gone.

Scheduling a Little Discomfort

The factories that remain relevant do not eliminate risk. They schedule a certain amount of discomfort before the market forces it on them.

They review processes that appear to be working. They run controlled pilots instead of waiting for perfect certainty. They bring in people willing to question sacred cows, and they give managers permission to retire outdated systems instead of defending them.

That does not mean chasing every shiny new product or buying automation because a competitor posted a video of it on LinkedIn. It means creating a disciplined way to test new ideas, measure the results, and decide whether they deserve a larger investment.

The objective is not constant disruption. It is preventing comfort from becoming the company’s strategy.

Gary’s Observation

Most offsite factories do not fail because they made one terrible bet. They decline because, somewhere along the way, leadership stopped making meaningful bets.

The phones may still be ringing, homes may still be shipping, and the backlog may still look respectable. But if workarounds have become normal, innovation is always postponed, and protecting today has become more important than preparing for tomorrow, the factory may already be losing momentum.

If that sounds uncomfortably familiar, it may be the most valuable warning your management team receives this year.

Modular Construction Has an Unfinished Sustainability Story

 

Fresh Eyes for Offsite by Jorie Wisnefski

Watch a modular construction facility in motion, and sustainability seems almost obvious.

Materials are stored in a controlled environment. Cuts can be planned and repeated. Workers aren't building in the mud, cold, or rain. Materials aren't sitting outside exposed to the elements. Waste is collected in one place instead of scattered across dozens of jobsites.

And when the building leaves the factory, a significant portion of the work is already done.

It's efficient.

But is it really more sustainable?

That’s a more complicated question—and one the modular industry could ask more often.

Stop Telling Modular Construction to Be More Like the Auto Industry

I am tired of hearing modular construction compared to automobile manufacturing. I am even more tired of consultants, automation salespeople, and self-appointed experts telling factory owners that our industry needs to become more like the auto industry.

They usually point to the assembly line, robotics, automation, standardized parts, computerized production, and cars moving smoothly from one station to the next. Then they look at a modular factory and wonder why we cannot build houses the same way Ford, General Motors, Toyota, or Honda build automobiles.

If the auto industry is so damned efficient and should be our model, let me tell you what I see when I look at it.

Thirty-Two Service Departments for One Small County

I live in Washington County, Maryland. Our estimated population is 157,731 people. In this relatively small market, I have 15 new-car dealerships to choose from, and every one has a service department.

Try scheduling an appointment with one. Depending on the dealership and the problem, the waiting time can be anywhere from one to 10 days. Every service department is busy. Their parking lots are full, their service bays are occupied, and customers are sitting in waiting rooms drinking bad coffee while watching daytime television.

In addition to those 15 dealership service departments, approximately 17 independent auto-repair businesses serve this area. That gives us roughly 32 service departments serving a county of only 157,731 people.

And they all appear to have plenty of work.

If automobile manufacturing is the shining example of production quality and efficiency that modular construction is supposed to emulate, why does my small county need 32 places to repair what the auto factories produce?

That question never seems to make it into the PowerPoint presentations.

Fifty-Five Housing Factories Serving 76 Million People

Now let’s look at factory-built housing.

From Maine through Virginia—what I loosely call New England and the Mid-Atlantic—about 55 active modular and manufactured-home factories exist. Together, they serve a region with roughly 76 million people.

Compare those numbers. My county has 32 automotive service locations serving 157,731 people. A huge section of the eastern United States has approximately 55 factory-built housing plants serving a population nearly 500 times larger.

More than 50 modular and manufactured-home factories can ship into my part of Maryland from different locations across the eastern United States. Over the years, many of those factories have delivered homes into this area.

Some of those homes have never required the builder to call the factory’s service department. Not once.

Think about that. A house leaves the production line, travels hundreds of miles on public roads, is lifted by a crane, placed on a foundation, joined to one or more modules, finished by local crews, exposed to every kind of weather, and then occupied by a family for decades.

Yet many of those homes never generate a factory service call.

Meanwhile, my relatively new car has already required four “Check Engine” repairs in three years. Two were covered under warranty, which was nice, but warranty coverage does not make the problem disappear. It just determines who pays.

And yes, I have the car serviced regularly.

What About All Those Recalls?

Here is another question for everyone who believes modular housing should emulate automobile manufacturing: When was the last time you heard about a nationwide recall of factory-built houses?

I cannot remember one.

I am not saying modular and manufactured homes are perfect. They are not. Factories make mistakes. Suppliers send defective products. Workers miss things. Builders damage modules during installation. Set crews create problems. Homeowners discover cracks, leaks, adjustments, and warranty issues after occupancy.

But where are the daily recall announcements?

Automotive trade publications report recalls constantly. Defective airbags, failing fuel pumps, faulty software, electrical problems, brake issues, battery fires, engines that may seize, and components that can fail without warning are routine industry news.

Every morning brings another recall notice.

That is one part of the automotive industry I have no desire to emulate.

Automotive Service Is a Profit Center

Another major difference that auto-industry comparisons conveniently ignore is this:

An automobile dealership’s service department is a profit center. Dealerships want customers returning for oil changes, inspections, tires, brakes, diagnostics, warranty work, and repairs. Service departments create recurring revenue long after the original vehicle sale.

The dealership sells the car once, but it may service that car dozens of times.

A modular factory’s service department operates under a completely different business model. Factory service is usually an expense. Every trip requires labor, transportation, hotel rooms, meals, materials, scheduling, documentation, and time pulled away from production.

The factory generally does not make money sending a service technician several states away to adjust a door, investigate a leak, repair drywall, or settle an argument over whether the factory, transporter, set crew, builder, subcontractor, or homeowner caused the problem.

I cannot think of a single modular factory service department that its owner proudly describes as a major profit center.

The best service call is the one that never has to be made.

That is precisely the opposite of the automotive service model.

Modernization Does Not Eliminate Problems

“Modernize the factory” has become another popular industry battle cry. In some cases, modernization is badly needed. Better equipment, improved material handling, accurate cutting systems, digital plans, production tracking, and selective automation can improve quality and productivity.

But modernization is not magic.

The automobile industry modernizes constantly. Every model year brings new electronics, software, safety equipment, engines, drivetrains, interiors, sensors, cameras, screens, and optional features. Manufacturers spend billions on research, robotics, testing, automation, and quality control.

Yet dealership service departments remain packed.

In fact, each new electronic feature creates another component that can malfunction, another sensor that can fail, another software problem that must be diagnosed, and another warning light capable of ruining someone’s morning.

My car’s “Check Engine” light doesn't care how sophisticated the factory that built it was.

Houses Are Not Cars

Automobiles and houses are both assembled products, but that does not make them the same business.

Cars are mass-produced in enormous quantities, built from tightly controlled components, completed inside one manufacturing system, and delivered as finished products. Modular homes are customized, transported as oversized loads, installed on separately constructed foundations, completed by independent builders and subcontractors, and connected to local utilities under thousands of different site conditions.

A car factory controls almost everything until the vehicle leaves the plant. A modular factory controls only part of what eventually becomes the finished home.

That does not mean modular factories cannot learn anything from automotive manufacturing. Of course they can. Material flow, workstation organization, error-proofing, supplier management, documentation, training, preventive maintenance, and quality checks are worth studying.

But learning from another industry is not the same as worshipping it.

Before another expert tells a modular factory owner to become more like an automobile manufacturer, perhaps that expert should spend a morning sitting in a dealership service department. Look at the full schedule, the occupied bays, the diagnostic equipment, the warranty claims, and the customers waiting for someone to explain why a three-year-old vehicle needs another repair.

Then ask whether this is really the model we want to copy.

Gary’s Observation

The modular industry does not need to become the automobile industry. It needs to become a better version of itself.

We should modernize where modernization produces measurable value. We should automate repetitive work where the investment can be justified. We should improve material flow, training, quality control, engineering, and communication with builders.

But we should stop pretending the auto industry has solved manufacturing.

Thirty-two automotive service departments stay busy serving my county of 157,731 people. Approximately 55 factory-built housing plants serve a region of 76 million people, and countless homes go decades without anyone calling the factory for service.

Maybe the automobile industry should start asking what it can learn from us.

Modular Doesn’t Need a Better Slogan. It Needs Better Proof.

 

For more than three decades, I have listened to people in the offsite construction industry debate why modular construction hasn't grown faster. Some believe we have never developed a strong enough message. Others say the public still confuses modular homes with manufactured housing. Some people still assume anything built in a factory must be cheaply made, while others expect modular construction to cost substantially less simply because it happens indoors.

Now I am hearing renewed talk that what the industry really needs is a catchy motto and a powerful 30-second commercial. If we could just find the right words, show a few modules being lifted by a crane and add some inspiring music, perhaps buyers and developers would finally understand what we have been trying to tell them.

I wish it were that simple.

A clever slogan might generate attention, and a polished commercial could spark curiosity, but neither addresses the real obstacles holding modular construction back. After watching this industry for more than 30 years, I believe we are still trying to solve operational and credibility problems with marketing.

Successful Factories Are Already Telling Us Something

Some modular factories are doing quite well. Their production schedules are full, their customers return with additional projects, and they have developed reputations for delivering what they promise. Other factories continue to flounder, struggle to produce acceptable profits, and wait for the market to discover them.

Is BOXABL Shopping for a New Future?

 

BOXABL recently announced that it is open to mergers, acquisitions, joint ventures, land contributions, talent additions, and technology partnerships across the housing industry.

On the surface, this sounds like an ambitious expansion strategy. It may also signal that BOXABL wants to evolve beyond manufacturing its Casita product and become a broader housing platform.

The company completed its merger with FG Merger II Corp. in July and now trades publicly on Nasdaq under the symbol BXBL. Having publicly traded stock potentially gives BOXABL another way to structure acquisitions and partnerships without relying entirely on cash.

Buying What Takes Years to Build

A carefully selected acquisition could give BOXABL capabilities that normally take years to develop. Those might include experienced factory leadership, established sales channels, approved building systems, entitled land, installation operations, or an existing workforce.

The challenge will be execution. Housing companies are difficult to combine because every factory has its own products, approvals, production methods, customers, and culture. Acquiring those capabilities is only the beginning; successfully integrating them is where the real work starts.

BOXABL’s public filings also show why discipline will be essential. For the first quarter of 2026, the company reported approximately $1.56 million in revenue, a $3.35 million gross loss, and a $7.6 million net loss. Those figures do not prevent BOXABL from pursuing transactions, but they make the terms, financing, and quality of any potential deal especially important.

Strategy or New Narrative?

This announcement could represent a legitimate strategic shift. BOXABL may believe it can combine its brand recognition, public-market access, patents, and promotional reach with established housing companies that already possess manufacturing experience and market presence.

The industry should watch what happens next. One well-chosen acquisition could considerably strengthen BOXABL. A collection of unrelated factories, technologies, and land deals could create greater complexity without solving its central challenge of achieving profitable production at scale.

Gary’s Observation

BOXABL has attracted attention more successfully than almost any housing startup in recent memory. Its next chapter, however, will not be judged by the number of partnership announcements it makes.

It will be judged by whether those partnerships produce homes, sustainable margins, satisfied customers, and a business capable of supporting its ambitions. Opening the door is easy. Choosing who walks through it—and successfully building something together—will be the real test.

Factory Transportation Has to Change. But Will Management Change With It?

Walk through the storage yard of almost any manufactured or modular housing factory, and you will see a transportation system that has changed very little in decades. Carriers are parked in rows, tires are slowly losing air, maintenance costs continue to increase, and valuable capital remains tied up in equipment waiting for its next assignment. Everyone accepts it because this is how modules have traditionally been transported.

Factory owners and managers know the system is far from perfect. They deal with carrier shortages, return trips, breakdowns, storage problems, scheduling conflicts, and completed modules waiting for transportation. Every transportation delay can eventually become a production problem, especially when a factory has more modules ready to ship than it has dependable carriers available.

Now imagine presenting those same managers with a completely new transportation system designed to reduce carrier dependence, eliminate unnecessary return trips, free up factory storage space, and save both time and money. Would they embrace it, support a pilot program, or quietly return to the system they already know?

I believe most factory managers would agree that something needs to change. Whether they would be willing to become early adopters is another question entirely, and the answer will depend heavily on how well the new system is explained, demonstrated, and supported.

Do Gen Z and Gen Alpha Really Look Down on Skilled Labor?

 

There is a growing belief among factory owners, contractors and older workers that Gen Z considers manual and skilled labor beneath them. According to that argument, younger people want to work from home, become influencers, or sit behind computers rather than build houses, wire electrical panels, weld steel, or operate production equipment.

There is some truth behind that perception, but it is also an oversimplification. Gen Z is not universally rejecting skilled labor, and Gen Alpha may eventually become even more receptive to it. What both generations appear to be rejecting is work that looks physically punishing, poorly managed, underpaid, and without a clearly defined future.

That is an important distinction.