Legacy code is pain, but here's how to extract value

September 29, 2025
captionless image

So you got stuck with the legacy codebase. You know, the one everyone avoids like it's cursed. The one with documentation that looks like it was written during the Stone Age and technologies that your favourite YouTubers have never even heard of.


I feel you. I really do.


Picture this: I'm 18, fresh out of my comfort zone of basic HTML and CSS projects. I walk into my first job expecting to work with modern stuff, maybe React if I'm lucky. Instead, they hand me this massive JSP, SAP Hybris e-commerce system with literally thousands of files. I didn't even know what JSP stood for! πŸ˜…


My first reaction? Pure panic. While everyone on Twitter was building cool Next.js apps, I was googling "JSP tutorial 2022" at 2 AM and finding results from 2009. Not gonna lie, I was pretty frustrated.


Looking back now, that experience taught me things no tutorial ever could. Not the JSP part (that knowledge is completely useless now), but the other stuff: the problem-solving, the systems thinking, the ability to figure things out when Google doesn't have answers.


Let me share what I learned, so maybe your legacy nightmare can be a little less nightmarish.

This article reflects my experience with an older SAP Hybris/JSP implementation. While the platform has evolved significantly (and this specific legacy tech is being phased out, with some components reaching end-of-maintenance around 2026), the lessons learned about problem-solving in a "legacy hell" are timeless and universally applicable, not a critique of current SAP Commerce Cloud developers or the modern platform.

The brutal reality check: What you actually get from this

captionless image

The stuff that genuinely sucks:

  • You'll spend weeks learning syntax that died years ago
  • Your GitHub will look ancient compared to your friends building React portfolios
  • You'll miss out on modern development patterns that everyone talks about
  • Some legacy practices are just… bad. Like really bad.

The stuff that's actually valuable: Here's what I didn't expect: legacy systems force you to become a real problem solver.


You know how most of us rely on Stack Overflow and ChatGPT for everything now? Well, with legacy code, those lifelines often don't exist. I spent entire days just trying to understand why this authentication system worked the way it did. No helpful blog posts, no Stack Overflow threads with 200 upvotes. Just me, some ancient documentation, and a lot of coffee.


Was it fun? Absolutely not. However, it taught me to think through problems step by step instead of just copying and pasting solutions. That skill has been incredibly valuable everywhere else I've worked.

The one thing that actually made it worth it

Legacy systems have this annoying habit of making you understand EVERYTHING before you can change ANYTHING.


When they asked me to add what seemed like a simple login page, it turned into this whole discovery journey. I had to figure out:

  • How authentication flowed through like 6 different layers (why so many?!)
  • Database relationships that were way more complex than they needed to be
  • Session management that honestly felt like rocket science
  • How all of this somehow connected to the product catalogue and checkout process

What started as "just add a login form" became "learn the entire architecture of this monster."


And yeah, that architecture was probably overcomplicated and definitely confusing. Whereas understanding how all those pieces fit together? That's something you don't get from building tutorial projects.


Most modern frameworks hide this complexity. You can build features without really understanding the bigger picture. Legacy systems don't give you that luxury; they force you to see how everything connects, even when you don't want to! πŸ˜‚

How I survived without losing my sanity

- Strategy 1: Focus on the thinking, not the syntax

This was huge for me. Instead of just learning "how to fix this specific JSP error," I started documenting "how to debug authentication flows" and "how to trace data through complex systems."


When I finally escaped to modern frameworks later, all that JSP knowledge was completely useless. While those debugging and problem-solving patterns I'd learned? They worked everywhere. It's like learning to drive a manual car: once you get it, automatic feels easy.

- Strategy 2: Be the hero, but don't get trapped

captionless image

Okay, this is where I made a classic mistake, so learn from my stupidity.


You're going to want to fix everything. The codebase is a disaster, there's technical debt everywhere, and you can see obvious improvements. So naturally, you roll up your sleeves and start making things better.


I did exactly this. Got a CRM system project that was basically held together with duct tape and good vibes. Spent months cleaning it up, reduced technical debt by 90%, made the whole thing way more stable, even built this pretty cool offline feature so salespeople could take orders in factories without an internet connection.


Everyone was thrilled. Management loved the improvements. Users were happy. I felt like a coding superhero! πŸ¦Έβ€β™‚οΈ


Here's where I screwed up: I became "the girl who knows the old system." Every bug report came to me. Every feature request was my problem. Every time something weird happened, guess who they called?


I was stuck.


The lesson: Make your improvements, document everything clearly, measure the impact with real numbers, then start planning your escape route. Don't become indispensable to something you want to leave behind.


Show the business value, take credit for your wins, but don't let yourself become the permanent caretaker of a dying technology.

- Strategy 3: Turn the chaos into Leadership Training

Legacy systems are often organisational disasters as well. You'll probably end up doing frontend, backend, design, testing, and maybe even talking directly to confused users.


It's overwhelming, but it's also the kind of broad experience that usually takes years to get naturally.


I ended up mentoring junior developers, coordinating with different teams, managing project timelines, and even designing UI/UX for dashboards because no one else was available.


Was I qualified for all of this? Definitely not. Did I learn a ton? Absolutely.


The key is treating it like intensive cross-training, not a permanent career path. Use the experience to build skills you can take anywhere, then take them somewhere better.

Translating pain into progress

Here's the tricky part: your resume won't look as shiny as someone who spent the same time building React apps. You'll have developed some deeper skills that are harder to see but incredibly valuable.


What actually carries over:

  • Problem-solving when there's no easy answer on Google
  • Understanding how complex systems work (not just your tiny piece of it)
  • Technical leadership, because you had to guide people through confusing situations
  • Business context, because legacy systems usually run important stuff that can't just break

When I eventually moved to modern technologies like Next.js and React Native, the learning curve was way smoother than expected. My friends who'd only done tutorials struggled when things didn't work exactly like the YouTube videos. I was comfortable figuring stuff out when the documentation was unclear or when weird edge cases appeared. It's like having been trained in difficult conditions: when things get easier, you feel unstoppable.

Knowing when to make your exit

You'll know it's time to move on when:

  • You can explain the complex parts clearly to other people (this is huge)
  • You've actually improved things and can show the impact with real numbers
  • People come to you for technical decisions, not just "fix this weird bug"
  • You can look at new codebases and quickly understand the patterns

Don't wait too long, though. Once you've learned what you can learn, start making your escape plan before you get permanently labelled as "the legacy person."

The honest truth

Legacy systems aren't some amazing career opportunity. They're frustrating, time-consuming, and sometimes feel like career suicide when you see everyone else working on exciting modern projects.


You'll waste time learning dead technologies. You'll get frustrated debugging things that shouldn't exist. You'll wonder why you're not building the next viral TikTok clone instead. That's all normal.


If you're already stuck in one, you might as well extract maximum value from the situation. Focus on developing the thinking skills, not memorising the specific technologies. Learn how to solve problems when things are messy, how to understand complex systems, and how to lead when nobody really knows what's going on.


Then use those skills to get somewhere way better. The goal isn't to fall in love with legacy code; it's to survive it and come out stronger, with skills that your tutorial-trained peers don't have.


Trust me, future you will thank present you for making the most of a difficult situation instead of just complaining about it.


Currently stuck in legacy hell? Focus on the transferable skills, document your wins, then plan your escape to something modern and exciting! πŸš€