Expensive Isn't Quality: A thyssenkrupp Inspector on Elevators, Steel, and $3 Highball Glasses

Last month a friend texted me a photo of two garage door opener remotes. “The OEM one is $48. The universal one is $14. Same buttons, right?”

A week earlier, the same friend asked how much does ceramic coating cost. The quotes he found ranged from about $400 to $2,500, and he wanted to know which one was a ripoff. Somewhere in between, he held up two highball glasses — one at $3, one at $15 — and asked me to explain the difference.

I have an odd vantage point for these questions. I'm a quality and brand compliance manager at thyssenkrupp. Some weeks, I'm reviewing delivery documentation tied to thyssenkrupp steel standorte. Other weeks, I'm inspecting components bound for a thyssenkrupp traction elevator. In 2024 I reviewed a little over 200 unique deliverables and rejected about 4% of first submissions — a large share of those for paperwork gaps, not broken parts.

That job rewires you. You stop trusting adjectives like “premium” and “heavy-duty” and start trusting numbers, test reports and — this is the part most people forget — the way a supplier quotes a price.

So here's the honest answer to every “should I buy the expensive one?” question: it depends. There's no universal yes or no. Anybody who says otherwise is selling something. What I can give you is the three-scenario framework I use, plus a few questions to figure out which scenario you're in.

Scenario one: things that fail loudly, or fail dangerously

If the item is safety-related, structural, or part of a bigger system where failure costs more than the price difference, buy the version with test evidence. Full stop.

That's where my day job lives. The material or component travels with a document trail, and that trail is part of the product. If you don't specify a certified material certificate — EN 10204 3.1 in Europe, or the local equivalent — you don't actually know what was delivered.

I learned that the hard way in my first year. I approved a materials order because the vendor attached a test report that looked official. It wasn't certified — no traceability, no referenced standard. The redo cost us a $22,000 delay, and it nearly cost us a client. Now every contract I touch requires the certificate up front, not as an afterthought.

Take a thyssenkrupp traction elevator. People shopping for an elevator tend to focus on cabin finish, lighting and ride comfort. When we check one before it leaves the plant, the critical items are brakes, governors and load-test certificates. Those components are engineered to a safety code, and the code is only as valid as the documentation proving the tests happened.

Here's the counterintuitive part: small purchases can land in this scenario too. A $14 universal garage door opener remote might work for years — or it can drop signal at the wrong moment and skip the rolling-code security that stops strangers from opening your garage. I'm not saying every cheap remote is dangerous. I'm saying the seller should be able to tell you, up front, which security protocol it supports and which opener brands it's actually compatible with. Transparent sellers list that. Sellers who say “fits most” usually don't know, or don't want you to know. I'm glad I checked the remote's protocol before answering my friend. I almost recommended the universal one as “basically the same” — which would have left his garage door on a security standard that hasn't been adequate for years.

Documentation quality is a surprisingly reliable signal. In brand compliance, printed color has a measurable tolerance — commonly stated as Delta E below 2 from the Pantone reference for critical colors, with commercial print files supplied at 300 DPI at final size. Those are industry-standard baselines, not marketing copy. And in my experience, a supplier who keeps labels and spec sheets that disciplined rarely loses their test certificates. Sloppy documentation is rarely the only sloppy thing.

I've also learned to watch for what a quote doesn't say. A low base price can exclude the very things that make a product acceptable — test certificates, traceability, tolerance verification. Those items reappear later as “upgrades.” The supplier who lists them in the base quote isn't trying to frighten you; they're making the price comparable. That's what transparent pricing looks like.

So if the cost of failure is a security gap, an injury, or a stopped production line, don't optimize for the lowest number on the quote. Optimize for the most complete one.

Scenario two: things that fail visibly and cheaply

Now the opposite end of the spectrum. My favorite example is a highball glass.

It feels trivial, but it's a clean test case because there's no hidden failure mode. A highball glass holds liquid, goes in the dishwasher and clinks with ice. If it chips, you see it immediately and replace it. The worst realistic outcome is that you drink from another glass for a week. Nobody gets hurt. Nothing collapses.

For that use, buy the $3 glass. A $15 “bar-grade” highball glass might survive more drops in a commercial bar, but that's a different usage scenario, priced for a different volume of abuse. At home, the practical difference between highball glasses is mostly branding. Plenty of budget and premium glasses come from the same production lines.

The transparency rule helps here too. When a maker can't tell you what makes their glass better — no capacity tolerance, no lead-free claim, no measurable difference in weight or annealing — you're not paying for quality. You're paying for a story. If the story is worth $12 at a dinner party, fine, buy it and enjoy it. But let's not pretend it's a quality decision.

Scenario three: when the real cost is invisible labor

This is the scenario that confuses everyone, because the purchase looks like a product but is mostly labor and skill.

Ceramic coating is the clearest example I've seen lately. Someone asks “how much does ceramic coating cost?” and gets quotes ranging from $400 to $2,500 for what seems like the same service. The coating chemical itself might be $80 to $200 a bottle at retail. So where does the range come from?

Prep. A ceramic coating only looks good if the paint underneath is decontaminated, corrected and spotless before the coating goes on. That takes hours. A lower quote usually means a quick spray-and-wipe. A higher quote usually means a full day of paint correction, panel prep and careful application. Same chemical, very different result.

I see the same pattern in industrial work. Surface preparation determines how long a coating lasts; the topcoat gets the credit. That's why our specifications define prep standards and dry film thickness in numbers, not in expensive-sounding adjectives.

In scenario three, you're not minimizing the upfront cost, and you're not buying a brand name. You're buying the seller's process — and you can only evaluate a process if they show it to you. Ask what's included. Ask what's not included. Ask how many hours of prep are in the quote. A transparent shop will tell you, because they want you to understand why their number is higher. A shop that says “trust me, we do great work” and won't get specific is asking you to pay for a gap.

So which scenario are you in?

Run this mini-audit before you spend more than a few dollars on anything. It takes two minutes.

First, ask what the worst realistic failure looks like. If it's a visible defect or a minor inconvenience, you're in scenario two. If it's injury, a security gap or a serious financial loss, you're in scenario one. If the real problem is that you won't be able to tell whether you got what you paid for, you're in scenario three — and the only fix is process transparency.

Second, ask the seller to describe what they're selling in numbers. A transparent steel supplier talks about grade, yield strength and certification. A transparent elevator supplier talks about load tests and safety codes. A transparent glassmaker gives you capacity, material and annealing. A transparent detailer tells you how many prep hours are included and what happens if the paint needs correction. Salespeople who can't name a single measurable spec are selling adjectives.

Third, ask the question I wish more consumers knew: “What's not included in this price?” That question separates transparent vendors from evasive ones faster than anything else I've tried. The supplier who lists all fees up front — even when the total looks higher — usually costs less in the end. The supplier who quotes low and adds later is showing you exactly how they'll treat you after you sign.

I have mixed feelings about this whole topic, honestly. Part of me wants to say, “stop overthinking it, buy the cheap glass.” Another part remembers the $22,000 redo and wants everyone to demand certificates. Both parts agree on the framework above: match the purchase to the failure cost, then buy from whoever is most transparent about what they're actually delivering.

That's been my experience across industrial orders and household purchases. At thyssenkrupp, we quote projects with enough detail to make the scope clear — and clarity is a feature when you're talking about steel, elevators, or anything else that has to hold up. I don't need a supplier to be the cheapest. I need them to be straight.