There are certain problems that prevent us from solving other issues. At first glance, they don’t offer functional improvements and thus seem insignificant to the client. In reality, these are the kinds of problems that require effort to articulate their value, and the difficulty in expressing this value doesn’t imply its absence or insignificance.
In professional jargon, this is often called technical debt. But how would you name it in everyday life? A loose electrical outlet that’s dangerous to plug a laptop charger into but seems to work for now; a broken lock on a door through which family or neighbours frequently enter and distract you just when you’ve achieved flow state; dim lighting from a lamp that gradually strains your eyes and accelerates fatigue—the list could go on. Is that already a good moment of time to fix something or not yet?
To find an answer, let’s ask another question first. How does one assess the importance of a developer not having a laptop? It sounds quite critical; they cannot perform the function that the team, as a cohesive unit producing software applications, is supposed to include.
What about an uncomfortable chair? It doesn’t seem as obvious. But if a bad chair leads to a person’s irritability, worsens communication, makes the team less effective as a unified group, and slows down the delivery of results to the client, it becomes significant.
One might say, “Ignore that. The impact is negligible. Even if a developer loses 0.05% of productivity due to a bad chair or a faulty office lock, it’s nothing—they take longer to drink coffee.” To this, one could respond that, firstly, this figure can be multiplied by the number of developers, and secondly, by the average number of everyday problems. Thus, because no one fixes "not important problems” (even in personal life), everyone else indirectly suffers, resulting in lost productivity.
Here is just one of billions of stories.
Today, I fixed the lock in my home office. It was initially installed by someone else as a placeholder for another lock (presumably by previous occupants). We didn’t have any keys for it, and it didn’t function properly. I purchased a rim cylinder with keys (the component where you insert the key to turn the locking mechanism), a metal hacksaw, and a chisel (I needed to move the lock lower to have both parts on the wall and on the door aligned horizontally to make it functioning)—all just to be able to close the door when necessary (value by itself or an opportunity to make some other value, for example, keep important communications focused). I spent about 5-6 hours over several days (cost), but I was not only pleased with the result but also inspired (side value).
Perhaps there are tasks YOU have been meaning to tackle for a long time—issues lingering in your daily life. Consider what those tasks are and what value (and to whom) will be gained once you finally address them.