There are three kinds of being cheap.
The first kind of cheap is the person who is cheap; somebody who isn’t willing to spend money, even if doing so would be more effective, more efficient, or more fun. Whether they have a lot of money or not, cheap people only buy things that are on sale, only go out if it’s happy hour, and bring their own popcorn into the movie theater.
The second kind of cheap is about the cost of something; the price of a product or service or membership. Things that are priced low attract more buyers, but they often attract the worst buyers; buyers to whom the price will never be low enough.
The last kind of cheap has to do with quality. When something is cheap, it’s not made very well. It’s flimsy and liable to break, well before you think it ought to. Companies that make cheap goods may offer a money back guarantee, but almost always put up impossible barriers to talk to them. They don’t need you to tell them the product is cheap. They already know, so no you can’t have your money back.
If you’re banking on being the cheap coworking space, I’ll personally guarantee you these things:
Your cheap members will be awful to deal with.
You’ll constantly chase unpaid invoices.
Your cheap space will be boring and uninspiring.
You’ll have to make special concessions, deals, and discounts, to attract your cheap members.
Your cheap furniture will break often, and you’ll need to replace it, which quickly offsets the savings of not buying the more expensive furniture.
Your staff will be inexperienced, uncaring, and resentful because you’re too cheap to pay them well.
Now, the opposite of being cheap isn’t being expensive. It’s being thoughtful enough, invested enough, and generous enough to create an experience worth paying a little extra for.