In every team, there’s this unspoken tension: the sparkle of the new versus the grind of the familiar. We don’t talk about it outright, but we feel it. New features get the glory. They’re showcased in demos, headlined in press releases, and praised in retrospectives. Maintenance work? That’s relegated to bullet points and quietly filed under “necessary evils.”

But this dichotomy doesn’t serve anyone—not the team, not the product, and certainly not the people who use it. It creates false hierarchies and distracts us from the real goal: solving problems.

It’s time to rethink how we talk about the work we do. Not just to sound better but to work better. Because the words we use shape how we think, and how we think shapes what we build.

The trap of “new”

“New” is addictive. It feels like momentum. New means progress, and progress is good, right? Except when it isn’t.

Here’s the truth: a lot of “new” work is unnecessary. It’s born out of fear—fear of standing still, fear of falling behind, fear of being boring. So we tack on features, thinking more equals better. But more isn’t always better. Often, it’s just more.

Take a step back and ask, “What problem does this solve?” If the answer is anything other than a clear, tangible benefit to the people who use your product, maybe it’s not worth doing. New doesn’t automatically mean useful.

The invisible brilliance of better

Now let’s talk about the other side—the unglamorous work. Fixing bugs. Streamlining processes. Smoothing rough edges. This is the kind of work that rarely gets a standing ovation.

But have you ever noticed how much users appreciate what’s missing? Missing friction. Missing confusion. Missing delays. That’s what the “better” work does—it removes obstacles.

Imagine walking into a beautifully designed building. You don’t think about the hidden beams that keep it standing, the plumbing that works flawlessly, or the insulation that keeps it comfortable. But those elements are what make the experience great.

Better solutions—iteration, refinement, polish—are like that. They’re foundational. They’re not flashy, but they’re indispensable.

Stop naming tasks, start naming outcomes

The problem with the way we label work is that it draws battle lines. “New features” versus “maintenance.” It creates camps, factions. Teams start to feel like they’re on different sides.

What if we stopped naming the type of work and started naming the result instead? Not “features” or “fixes,” but solutions.

• New solutions: Work that tackles unmet needs or opens up new possibilities.

• Better solutions: Work that makes what’s already there stronger, smoother, more effective.

This framing doesn’t just sound better—it reframes priorities. It makes it clear that all work is about solving problems, not just shipping output. It creates alignment between teams because everyone is working toward the same thing: a product that solves.

A culture of solving

When you start thinking in terms of new and better solutions, you stop worrying about what work looks like and start focusing on what it does. You also stop competing internally. Teams realize they’re on the same side. The goal isn’t to ship the most features or squash the most bugs—it’s to solve the most meaningful problems.

This shift does something else, too. It values the invisible. It makes sure that the work that keeps the lights on, that makes things seamless and delightful, gets its due respect.

Solving is what matters

Here’s the thing: people don’t care how you categorize your work. They care about the result. The smoother checkout process. The search feature that just works. The app that feels intuitive every time they use it.

So stop glorifying new for its own sake. Stop undervaluing better because it’s harder to see. Start solving, and let that be the story.

Because in the end, the only work that matters is the work that solves.