The Gains of Fixing Things

Why the broken thing might be worth more than anything in a shop.

There's a thing somewhere that someone spent time trying to fix. It works now - just about. It probably took longer than driving to the shops to buy a new one. It certainly took more effort. But ask that someone which thing they'd rather use, and there's no contest. That thing has a story. And so do they.Dads Kids Club found 8 broken, rusted and beaten up bikes that had been donated to the school possibly a decade earlier. The male parents and kids decide to work together and fix as many as they could and offer them to kids who didn't have access to bikes, for whatever reason, to borrow them over the summer holidays. And surprisingly at the end of the summer holidays all the bikes came back, looked after and cared for because their value was priceless.

The Case for Not Replacing EverythingIn How to Repair Everything: A Green Guide to Fixing Stuff, Nick Harper makes a quietly radical argument: that the habit of fixing things — rather than discarding and replacing them — is one of the most valuable and grounding things we can practise. It's good for the planet, obviously. But it's also good for us. For our patience, our confidence, our relationship with the physical world, and our sense of what we're actually capable of.We live in an age of disposability. Things are designed to be replaced, not repaired. The instruction manual, if there is one, tells you nothing useful. And yet the impulse to fix something — to refuse to give up on it, to believe there's a solution if you look hard enough — is one of the most human impulses there is.The Puzzle Is the PointThere is a very particular kind of satisfaction in diagnosing a broken thing. It starts with looking closely. Then with asking questions. What's it supposed to do? Where's it failing? What changed? It requires patience, logic, a willingness to get it wrong a few times before you get it right.

That process — the slow, frustrating, occasionally joyful process of working something out — is its own reward. Long before the thing works again, you're already gaining something. Focus. Curiosity. Resilience. The quiet pleasure of taking a problem seriously.

Better TogetherSome of the best fixing happens with others. A friend who knows more than you. A kid who asks the question you hadn't thought of. A stranger on a forum at 11pm who had exactly your problem three years ago and left the answer behind for you.

There is something genuinely connecting about shared problem-solving. When you and your child crouch over a broken bike together, or sit at a table dismantling something neither of you fully understands, you are doing something that goes beyond the repair. You are building a shared language. You are modelling what it looks like to try, fail, think again, and try differently. You are showing them that difficulty is not a reason to give up — it's the reason to lean in.

The Fixed Thing Means MoreA repaired object carries a weight that a new one never can. It holds the memory of the evenings spent on it. The moment it finally worked. The person who sat beside you while you figured it out. A bought thing is just a thing. A fixed thing is a relationship.

The scratched record player that took four weekends. The bicycle your dad rebuilt for you. The chair your granddad reglued and reclamped in his shed. These objects outlast their usefulness because they became something else — evidence that someone cared enough to try.

Pick Something UpYou don't need to be skilled. You need to be willing. Find something broken. Look at it properly. Try something. Ask for help. Try again.The gains of fixing things aren't just practical. They're personal. And when you fix something alongside your child — or your dad, or your mate — those gains become shared. Permanent. Irreplaceable.

Just like the thing you refused to throw away.

What's the best thing you've ever fixed — or tried to fix? Tell us in the comments.