The Reward for Good Work
I was listening to a recent episode of Founders, where David Senra was covering The Creative Act by Rick Rubin. During the episode he referenced a quote attributed to Tom Sachs that particularly spoke to me:
“The reward for good work is more good work.”
The timing coincided with finishing my previous piece on pressure as a privilege, though in truth these are ideas I muse over often.
We’re all different. We have different priorities, ambitions, tolerances, and definitions of success. For some, work is very clearly a means to an end. Something to be completed in order to enjoy what sits outside of it. From that perspective, the idea that the reward for good work is more work feels counterintuitive, even undesirable.
And yet, I sense there are many who recognise the opposite. Those for whom more work, when it’s the right kind of work, doesn’t feel like a punishment but instead a signal that you’re delivering value.
Sure, there are things to be wary of when it comes to work begetting more work, especially when you arrive there by excelling amongst peers or competition. The risk of burnout is real, particularly when passion blurs boundaries and stretches what might be considered ‘normal’ working hours. Some of this comes down to choosing the right profession or at least finding ways to integrate genuine interest into what you do. Some of it may simply be an ingrained sense of ambition. A pull towards creating, producing quality, and excelling at what you do.
Why does this matter?
Because when you find the thing you care about deeply, or the thing you’ve honed to a level where quality becomes the focus rather than effort itself, the nature of work changes. It stops being something you endure and starts becoming something you lean into. Once you reach that space, more work doesn’t just follow, you almost begin seeking it out, even if indirectly and without consciously asking.
When quality overtakes the idea of working just to work, the output becomes distinguishable from the crowd. What you produce begins to stand apart. While others may be ready to shut down at 17:30, you’re content to keep going. Not because you’re chasing hours or rates, but because if something has your name on it, you know it needs to be the best you can deliver.
It becomes less about time invested and more about the standard you’re willing to accept. The returns, repeat clients, progression, and opportunity can appear sudden from the outside, but they’re rarely accidental. They’re the result of years of diligence and quiet commitment.
This ties back to my last piece on pressure and hard work. Increased opportunity often brings increased pressure, much of it self-imposed and driven by the desire to deliver consistently high-quality work. This can be hard to explain, even to those closest to you. They see stress and long hours and worry you’re pushing too hard. Your inner monologue tells a different story.
You know what sits on the other side of the effort. You know that what you’re producing isn’t just tied to this piece of work, but to every piece that came before it; the years of learning, repetition, and refinement that built the competence you now operate with.
That said, self-awareness matters. There are points where quality risks eroding or where you hit a mental block. Moments where stepping away becomes necessary. For some, that distance comes through a walk. For others, a run or time in the gym. For me, movement has always been the reset. Space creates clarity, and that clarity tends to unlock the path forwards.
As I said in the last post, we often refer to the analogy that pressure creates diamonds. But only through moving through pressure do you learn yourself. Where your limits are, when to pause, and when to push on. Not everyone will see what you see. Others may think you need weeks or months away. They may not share the same relationship with the work or understand why you’re still comfortable operating at a level that feels intense from the outside.
You don’t need permission to care deeply about what you do. You don’t need permission to outwork others, or to give yourself fully to the pursuit of quality. If the work is meaningful to you, that’s justification enough.
“The reward for good work is more work.”
When, or if, you decide to stop accepting it, to step away, take a sabbatical, or move into a different phase of life, that choice is yours. I often say I don’t know how long I’ll remain in demand, so while the work continues to interest me and opportunities present themselves, I keep accepting and moving forward. Maybe there’ll be a moment where a six or twelve month pause feels right. Maybe the next piece of work will simply pull me in again.
All I know is that this quote resonated because it’s been a quiet through-line of my professional life. And if you’ve made it this far, I suspect it’s a through-line of yours too.