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About the House: Debunking the Myth of Old Homes and Good Bones By MATT CANTOR

Friday November 18, 2005

During inspections, I often hear people refer to old houses as having “good bones.” This is such a trigger for me that I have to duct tape my mouth shut to keep from launching into a day-long lecture on what’s good AND bad about old houses. Luckily for me, there’s no duct tape on my keyboard so I can rant all day. Or as long as space permits, anyway. 

The problem with the notion of good bones, to draw a further anatomical analogy, is that it lacks any discussion of the viscera. The bloodstream, neurology or fascia that flesh out, protect and inhabit this skeletal system. Also, the notion that old houses have good bones, presumably the framing or wooden members, is often wrong. This is untrue often enough to fairly state that not all older houses have good bones. Also, it is unreasonable to assume, by contrast, that newer houses are lacking in a decent skeletal system. 

To widen the attack on this notion, I think we have to examine assumption behind the term “good bones,” which is, I believe, that old houses are better built—that they used better materials and that they were built with more care and by persons with better knowledge of construction. 

This is true just enough of the time and in enough areas of the trades that the notion has never been fully debunked. But let’s break it down, take it by domain and see if we can inject some sense into where this old husband’s tale comes from and to what degree it may be true. 

If we take a typical house from, say, 1915, and another typical house from 1975 and compare them, we will certainly find that the older house is fairly well-framed. Often these older houses used very good lumber, which seems not to be as prevalent in the modern house. Wooden members have gotten smaller, for given dimensions over the last century (2x4s are now 1-1/2” x 3-1/2”) and the quality of the wood used has diminished somewhat. However, a house from 1915, in many areas, would have used smaller pieces of wood as well as having spaced them further apart.  

A roof framing from 1915 would typically have been made up of 2x4s spaced about three feet apart. While the wood used may have been of good quality, this framing can’t compete with the 1975 house which will probably have 2x6s spaced about two feet apart. The latter framing is stronger by any objective standard.  

One thing that will almost certainly bear in the favor of the older house will be the quality of the nailing. Nails were often of larger sizes, were generally better installed (yes, those carpenters pounded them all in by hand with huge hammers and powerful triceps—even the little guys) and more were put in at each joint. Again, this is not consistent but it is often true. 

I remember reading a story about a development in Florida built in 1970s which, when hit by a hurricane, pancaked. These houses just fell to pieces. Forensics done in the aftermath of the tragedy showed that only a small fraction of the mandated nailing had been done and that this was clearly the reason for the widespread failures. Images of tight budgets, poor inspections and framers under the influence come to mind, although proof of the particulars is hard to come by. Nonetheless, the general notion of cheapness as an element of late 20th century construction clearly fits. 

Before moving on from the issue of framing in a comparison of our 1915 vs. 1975 houses, I do think it’s worthwhile to point out that that the floors and walls of both houses are quite similar but do favor the older house much of the time. The place where the framing differences really manifest themselves are in those areas that we think of as being of seismic relevance. The very bottom part of the framing in the older house does not have the interconnectedness of the modern house. For some odd reason, builders and building designers were not thinking about how houses fail during earthquakes even 20 years after the great San Francisco quake.  

Another 60 years passed before significant measures were taken to change the way houses respond to earthquakes. These changes have to do with bolting of houses to foundations, the nailing of exterior cladding and the way in which various parts of the house are attached to one another.  

This is one of those areas where I tend to say that the bones of the older house really aren’t that good. Well, the bones may be good but the tendons and ligaments are lousy. Even though houses built since the 1960s show increasing signs of cheapness, ignorance and lack of integrity, the technologies have advanced and houses are better for them. I would never trade in a 1975 reinforced concrete foundation for the soluble brick foundation of 1915 and were I to buy one of those glorious painted ladies, would make the replacement of the foundation my first task. 

As is so often true, this subject deserves 10 times the space of this column, but let me finish briefly with a few other areas of comparison.  

Electrical wiring is so much better today than in 1915 that it’s hardly worth discussing. Many safety features have been added as well as pure utility in the form of lighting, zillions of outlets and safety features like the GFCI. 

Heating has advanced greatly as well with the advent of insulation and thermal windows. Plumbing systems are no longer corroded steel with their advanced cases of arteriole sclerosis. If you’ve ever showered in an older house when someone flushed the toilet, you know what I mean. Modern copper piping is a small wonder and no matter how marvelous that old Victorian is, until you upgrade the plumbing, your wife will continue to threaten divorce. 

I’ll answer the question that I’m sure at least some of you are asking yourselves at this point by saying that I live in a 1922 house. The foundation has been replaced, as has the wiring, plumbing and heating. This is my personal answer to the dilemma of old vs. new. I don’t care for most newer houses I see. The architecture and lack of detailing often leave me cold and I’m never sure which room I’m in. I can’t tell the foyer from the laundry room. On the other hand, an old house without modern upgrades is a daily trial. 

So I suggest a new version of an old ditty: Good Bones, Good Heat, Good Pipes, That’s Sweet.