Making stuff good is rewarding, making stuff great is intoxicating. It’s like there’s a direct line from perfection and excellence to the dopamine release. And the reverse is true as well. When you make crappy stuff, you feel crappy. No one likes to work in a broken shop on a broken stool.
So it’s hard to fault people from being attracted to sayings like “Quality is Free”. It validates the good feelings that flow from making stuff perfect, and it makes it seem like it’s a completely free bargain. Win-win and all that.
But like anything, it’s easy to take too far. Almost everything outside of life-critical software has diminishing returns when it comes to quality. Fixing every last bug, eradicating every last edge case, and dealing with every performance dragon means not spending that time on making new things.
You can make the best, most polished, least-defective saddle out there, but if the market has moved on from horses to cars for general transportation, it’s not going to save your business. And it doesn’t even have to be as dramatic as that. Making the best drum brakes is equally folly once disc brakes are on the market.
So you have to weigh the value of continuing to hone and perfect the existing with pursuing the new and the novel. This often happens in waves. You come up with a new idea, and a crappy first implementation. You then spend a couple of rounds polishing off the crap until the new idea is no longer new and crappy, but known and solid. Then it’s time to look hard at whether another round is worth it.
The bottom-line is to make that which is not good enough, good enough, and then skate to where the puck is going to be next.