There is a word that gets used carelessly in descriptions of old things: patina. It has come to mean almost anything. A scratch. A dent. A general air of having been around for a while.
Used precisely, it means something more specific and more valuable.
Patina is the record of time acting on a surface in a consistent, expected way. The darkening of silver in the recesses of an engraved pattern. The fading of a watch dial from the edges inward, where UV exposure accumulated over decades. The oxidation of bronze that follows the geometry of the casting.
What distinguishes patina from damage is intentionality. Not the intention of the maker, but the intention of time itself. Damage is arbitrary. A knocked corner. A replaced part that does not match. A cleaning that went too far. These are interruptions in the object's natural history.
Patina is that history, uninterrupted.
This matters for value in a specific way. An original, unpolished surface on a piece of Georgian silver is worth considerably more than the same piece buffed to a mirror finish. The buffing has removed information. The grain of the metal, the record of its use, the evidence of its age. That information cannot be restored.
With watches, the principle is the same. A dial that has developed an honest tropical or honey tone over fifty years is not a damaged dial. It is a document. The collector who understands this pays accordingly. The collector who does not may have it refinished, and in doing so destroy the thing that made it interesting.
Know what you are looking at before you decide whether it needs fixing.