The 3 Types of Developers Every Team Has (And Why It Matters)

I've worked with a lot of developers over the years.

Different companies, different stacks, different cultures. Startups where five people were responsible for everything. Scale-ups where the engineering org had its own org chart. Agencies where the team changed every quarter.

And across all of them, I kept seeing the same three people.

Not the same names. Not the same faces. But the same dynamics, playing out with different actors on different stages.

Once I started noticing them, I couldn't stop. They were everywhere. And more importantly, I started to see how the combination of these three types, more than any individual, determined whether a team shipped well, burned out, or quietly fell apart.

This article is about those three types. Who they are, what they bring, where they struggle, and what it means for you if you're the one responsible for the team.

TL;DR

• Every engineering team has a Lone Rocket, a Glue Engineer, and a Big Picture Skeptic, whether they're aware of it or not.
• None of these types is inherently better than the others. Each one is essential in the right context, and destructive in the wrong one.
• As a tech lead, your job isn't to change these people. It's to understand them well enough to put them in positions where their natural tendencies become team strengths.

Table of Contents

• A Note Before We Start
• Type 1: The Lone Rocket
• Type 2: The Glue Engineer
• Type 3: The Big Picture Skeptic
• Why the Mix Matters More Than the Individuals
• What This Means for You as a Tech Lead
• Final Thoughts

A Note Before We Start

These are archetypes, not boxes.

Real people are more complex than any category. Most developers have traits from all three types, with one tendency that's more dominant depending on the context, the project, or where they are in their career.

The point of naming these patterns isn't to label people. It's to make visible something that's usually invisible, the different ways people contribute to a team, and why some of those ways are easier to recognize and reward than others.

With that said, let's meet the three types.

Type 1: The Lone Rocket

You know this person the moment you look at the commit history.

The Lone Rocket is technically brilliant. They move fast, think clearly, and produce more output than anyone else on the team. When there's a hard problem, a gnarly performance bug, a tricky architectural decision, a deadline that should be impossible, the Lone Rocket is the one you call.

They deliver. Almost always.

In a team I worked with a few years ago, there was a developer, I'll call him Marcus, who had single-handedly built the entire data pipeline that the product ran on. It was elegant, it was fast, and it was completely inside his head.

No documentation. Minimal comments. PR descriptions that said things like "fixes the thing from last week."

When Marcus was around, everything was fine. When Marcus went on vacation for two weeks, the team ground to a halt. Nobody else fully understood how the pipeline worked. A minor configuration change turned into a five-day incident because three different people were afraid to touch the code without him.

Marcus wasn't being malicious. He just worked the way that felt natural to him: fast, focused, and alone.

What the Lone Rocket brings

• Raw output. When velocity matters, they deliver.
• Deep technical ownership. They know their domain better than anyone.
• Problem-solving under pressure. They thrive when the stakes are high.

Where the Lone Rocket struggles

• Knowledge transfer. Information lives in their head, not in the codebase.
• Collaboration. Working with others slows them down, and they know it.
• Bus factor. The team's resilience depends on their availability.

The context where they shine

The Lone Rocket is at their best in the early stages of a product, when speed matters more than process, and depth of expertise matters more than documentation. They're also invaluable in high-stakes firefighting situations, where you need someone to go deep fast.

They become a liability when the product matures and the team grows, and the code they own becomes critical infrastructure that nobody else understands.

As a tech lead

Your job with the Lone Rocket is not to slow them down. It's to make their work transferable.

That means pair programming sessions where they're the driver and someone else is the navigator. It means requiring PR descriptions that explain why, not just what. It means gently but consistently asking: "if you were hit by a bus tomorrow, what would break and who would know how to fix it?"

Not as a threat. As a genuine engineering concern.

Type 2: The Glue Engineer

The Glue Engineer is the hardest type to see, because their work is specifically the work that doesn't show up in metrics.

They don't have the highest commit count. They're not closing the most tickets. You won't find their name in the release notes for the biggest features.

What you will find: they're the ones who answered twelve Slack messages this week from confused teammates. They did three thorough code reviews that prevented two bugs from reaching production. They updated the onboarding doc that nobody else had touched in eight months. They noticed that two teams were building the same thing in parallel and quietly connected the right people before it became a problem.

They are the connective tissue of the team.

I once worked alongside a developer, I'll call her Priya, who was consistently rated as a "solid mid-level" in performance reviews. Not a standout. Not on the promotion track.

Then she went on parental leave for four months.

In those four months, two junior developers got stuck and spun their wheels for weeks on problems Priya would have unblocked in an afternoon. A decision that needed three teams to align took two months instead of two weeks because nobody was naturally playing the connector role. The team's PR review turnaround time doubled.

When Priya came back, nobody said "we finally realized how much you were doing." But the team noticeably reaccelerated.

The Glue Engineer's impact is often only visible in their absence.

What the Glue Engineer brings

• Team coherence. They prevent the small frictions that compound into big dysfunction.
• Knowledge distribution. They actively spread context across the team.
• Psychological safety. Their availability makes it easier for others to ask for help.

Where the Glue Engineer struggles

• Visibility. Their work is hard to quantify in a performance review.
• Burnout risk. Being the person everyone comes to is exhausting, especially if it's not acknowledged.
• Their own depth. Time spent helping others is time not spent on deep technical work.

The context where they shine

The Glue Engineer is most valuable in teams that are growing, onboarding new people, or navigating organizational complexity. They're the stabilizing force during periods of change.

They can become frustrated, and start to disengage, in environments that only reward individual technical output and don't recognize coordination and knowledge-sharing as real work.

As a tech lead

Your job with the Glue Engineer is to make their contribution visible.

This is not easy in a culture that measures story points and merged PRs. But it matters.

Name the work. In team retros, in 1:1s, in performance conversations, be specific: "you unblocked three people this sprint, and that has real value." Advocate for promotion criteria that include collaboration and knowledge-sharing, not just technical output.

And watch for burnout. The Glue Engineer will often absorb team stress before it becomes visible. Check in before the signs appear, not after.

Type 3: The Big Picture Skeptic

The Big Picture Skeptic is the one who asks the uncomfortable question right when everyone else is ready to start building.

"Do we actually need this feature?"

"What happens to this data model when we add multi-tenancy in six months?"

"We built something almost identical to this last year. Why are we starting from scratch?"

In the middle of a sprint, with a deadline looming and momentum building, these questions are deeply unwelcome. The Big Picture Skeptic can feel like a brake pedal when everyone wants to accelerate.

And sometimes, honestly, they are just slowing things down.

But sometimes they're the only thing standing between the team and three months of work that turns out to be solving the wrong problem.

I worked with a developer, I'll call him Daniel, who had a reputation for being "difficult." He pushed back on scope in planning meetings. He asked uncomfortable questions during architecture reviews. More than once, I heard other developers say: "Daniel always has to complicate everything."

Then one day, in a planning meeting, Daniel asked why the new reporting dashboard needed to be built as a standalone service. The project had already been scoped, estimated, and approved.

His question opened a thirty-minute conversation that revealed the feature would duplicate functionality already being built by another team, a team nobody in the room had been in contact with. The duplication would have taken two months to untangle after the fact.

Daniel's question saved six weeks of engineering time.

He was still described as "difficult" in his next performance review.

What the Big Picture Skeptic brings

• Risk reduction. They catch architectural problems before they're expensive.
• Long-term thinking. They hold the team accountable to decisions made three months ago.
• Scope discipline. They push back on complexity creep.

Where the Big Picture Skeptic struggles

• Timing. Their instinct to question can misfire in contexts that need momentum, not analysis.
• Perception. They are frequently labeled as negative, resistant, or not a team player.
• Execution mode. Once a decision is made, shifting from questioning to building can be genuinely difficult for them.

The context where they shine

The Big Picture Skeptic is most valuable in planning and architecture phases, before the team has committed to a direction. In execution mode, with the decision already made, their skepticism has less to contribute and can damage morale.

As a tech lead

Your job with the Big Picture Skeptic is to give their instincts a designated space.

Create a moment in planning where skeptical questions are explicitly invited, before the team shifts into execution mode. Make it a structural part of the process: "before we finalize this, let's spend ten minutes asking what we might be missing."

This does two things. It harnesses the Skeptic's strength at the moment it's most valuable. And it signals to the rest of the team that skepticism has a place, just not at every moment of every sprint.

Also: when the Skeptic is right, say so explicitly. Their contributions are easy to forget once the crisis they prevented never happens.

Why the Mix Matters More Than the Individuals

Here's the thing about these three types: a team made entirely of one type is almost always dysfunctional.

A team of only Lone Rockets moves fast and breaks things, including itself. Knowledge is siloed. Collaboration is minimal. When one person leaves, a piece of the product leaves with them. The team scales output, not resilience.

A team of only Glue Engineers is cohesive, kind, and stuck. Everyone is well-connected. Nobody is pushing hard on the hard problems. Alignment happens easily; execution happens slowly. The team has great retros and mediocre sprints.

A team of only Big Picture Skeptics never ships. Every decision is questioned. Every scope is challenged. Every architecture is relitigated. The team produces excellent pre-mortems for projects that don't exist yet.

The strength isn't in having any one type. It's in having all three, and understanding how to position them so their strengths reinforce each other instead of colliding.

The Lone Rocket builds the thing. The Glue Engineer makes sure the rest of the team understands it. The Big Picture Skeptic makes sure it was the right thing to build.

That's not a formula. It's more of an ideal. Real teams are messier. But it's a useful picture to hold in your head when you're thinking about what a team is missing.

What This Means for You as a Tech Lead

If you're leading a team, here's the most useful thing this framework offers: a way to see gaps before they become problems.

Look at your team and ask:

Who is the Lone Rocket? Do they have a knowledge transfer habit, or is critical information living only in their head? What happens to the team if they leave?

Who is the Glue Engineer? Are they recognized for what they do, or are they quietly absorbing team friction without acknowledgment? Are they at risk of burning out?

Who is the Big Picture Skeptic? Do they have a designated space to contribute their best work, or are they fighting against the process at every turn? When was the last time their skepticism was publicly credited with preventing a real problem?

And the harder question: what's missing?

If your team has no one playing the Glue role, coordination problems are going to compound quietly until they become a crisis. If your team has no one playing the Skeptic role, you'll ship faster, right up until you ship the wrong thing. If your team has no Lone Rocket, you'll have excellent process and sluggish output.

Recognizing the gap is the first step to addressing it, whether that means hiring for it, reassigning responsibilities, or creating structural conditions that bring out a latent strength in someone already on the team.

Final Thoughts

The best teams I've ever worked with weren't the ones with the highest average technical skill.

They were the ones where different people were contributing in genuinely different ways, and where the team lead understood that difference well enough to make it work.

Brilliant individuals working in isolation don't make great teams. Cohesive teams that never challenge their own decisions don't ship great products. Fast teams that never slow down to ask hard questions eventually run fast in the wrong direction.

The Lone Rocket, the Glue Engineer, and the Big Picture Skeptic.

You've worked with all three.

The question worth sitting with is: which one are you, and is the team you're on creating the conditions for that to be a strength?

Which of these three types resonates most with your experience, as a developer, or as someone leading a team?

And the harder question: which one does your current team desperately need more of?

Drop it in the comments. These conversations are always the most honest ones.

If this resonated, a ❤️ or a 🦄 helps it reach more people who need to read it.
And if you want more articles from the Team Lead Chronicles series, follow along.