We’ve all been there–the recipient of a hand-me-down phone that is practically gasping its last breath. Passed on to you only because everyone else upgraded, and now it’s your job to squeeze out its last days. Still, it’s better than nothing. Mine held up for a while, until the battery life became less reliable than my sleep schedule.

I couldn’t save the poor thing. My repair skills are nonexistent, and fixing it professionally would’ve cost more than what it was worth. Besides, I had my eye on the latest model: eggshell white, thin bezels, perfect for watching YouTube in style! Maybe it was just time to let it go.

My experience is part of a larger consumer trend, that of shortening product life spans called planned obsolescence, and apart from eating into your savings, it also causes serious damage to the environment.

However, all is not lost. As consumers, we can fight back by advocating for the right to repair, so we can fix our own products rather than be forced to buy new ones. But before we dive into ways to fight back, let’s take a closer look at what we’re up against.

Planned obsolescence is a trick that companies have been increasingly using to achieve their ends. A company’s goals and your interests are always at odds with each other. You want a high-quality product at a low price, while companies are out to maximize profits and minimize costs. Originally, obsolescence was used as a tactic to boost the economy after the Great Depression, keeping demand high and creating jobs when they were desperately needed. But now, it’s gone too far.

Companies make their products obsolete in two main ways. The first is by deliberately sabotaging the product’s durability, often through cheap plastic components or, in the case of electronics, by discontinuing software updates. This pattern is called enshittification (yes, that’s a word). It runs across industries, from technology to fashion to automobiles. Brands build consumer trust with reliable products, only to degrade their quality over time, exploiting that trust for profit. Engineers, programmers and designers are well aware of a product’s lifespan, but are forced to reduce durability, repairability, and software support by the higher-ups who push for lower costs.

On hearing this, people will often let out a long sigh, look off into the horizon, and say, “Y’know… things weren’t like this in the good ol’ days…” reasoning that companies were nicer back then, and made products that lasted longer. And although products were more robust back then, it wasn’t out of kindness. A few decades ago, companies simply didn’t have the tech to predict a product’s exact breaking point, so they played it safe and made things sturdier. However, with computer simulations and advanced testing of today, companies can pinpoint the lifespan of every component. It would be foolish for a company not to use technology to lower production costs. They would get eaten alive by competitors who can produce similar products at a lower price.

This is the tragedy of the commons. CEOs aren’t scheming villains who wake up with sinister grins, maliciously plotting ways to ruin their products. They’re simply using the resources they have to maximize profits. A company that doesn’t push its resources to the limit risks being overtaken by competitors who do. They’re leveraging every tool at their disposal to stay profitable. It’s not personal, it’s just business. But it still affects us all.

The second method that companies use to make their products obsolete is more subtle: the perceived obsolescence of a product. We all have an innate desire to display our wealth and success through material objects, either to ourselves or others. This drive to keep up with trends through constant consumerism is a clear reflection of that. Advertisements lean heavily into this facet of our psychology. Companies pressure consumers to view new products as so vastly superior to the old ones that replacing them becomes a must. They will do anything to make you buy, buy, buy.

Take the iPhone, for example. Each time a new model drops, the hype is through the roof, although there aren’t many significant changes. Still, people rush to buy it since it’s the ticket to tech coolness. Having the latest iPhone has become a status symbol, and while each new version does bring some fresh features, are they life-changing enough to warrant the price tag?

So far, I’ve focused on how planned and perceived obsolescence drain our wallets. But the impact goes much deeper–it’s also wreaking havoc on the environment. Making products more disposable creates a lot of trash. There are piles of toxic e-waste in landfills, polluting the soil and atmosphere, posing significant health risks. This e-waste seeps pollutants into the soil and air, posing health risks to people and the environment. In some communities, valuable metals like gold and copper are extracted from e-waste by burning it, a process that further contributes to dangerous air quality, damaging people’s lungs and eyes.

In 2022, the US generated 7.2 Kilotons of e-waste. Even if recycling was more widespread, it still takes energy, which increases CO2 emissions.

Also, before a product even reaches us, it leaves a significant environmental footprint. Manufacturing requires raw materials from mining and deforestation, pumping out harmful emissions, adding to pollution long before we’ve even unboxed that cool new gadget.

This deluge of consumerism and its effects on the environment may sound scary, but here’s the good news–there are ways to fight back against planned obsolescence. The first and most actionable step is to shift your mindset.

The goal is to rethink how you view the things you already own and the products you’re tempted to buy. Instead of seeing them as disposable or merely status symbols, try to appreciate their value, durability, and the resources involved in creating them. When you feel like you might want a shiny new device, be objective. Ask yourself these questions:

• What functional purpose will I gain from buying this? Is it just a fad?
• Will it benefit my life as a whole?
• How long will it last?
• Does it have a guarantee? What does it cover? For how long?
• Can it be repaired easily? Are spare parts available and affordable?
• Does its manufacturing impact the environment?

Companies that follow these principles do exist. For example, Fairphone Smartphone and Framework Laptop are great examples of companies, selling easily repairable devices with sustainably sourced materials, amongst the avalanche of cheaply made products sold on shopping websites like Temu, AliExpress, and Amazon.

The next important step is to do something responsible with whatever you do need to replace. Try to sell it on the secondhand market, or go to a recycling center. When something breaks, instead of tossing it out, learn how to repair it. Challenge the consumerism companies push by embracing a more sustainable mindset. Not only will this benefit your wallet, but it’ll also help the environment, showing that you value the environment over fleeting trends.

But what if all your options are dead ends? What if there are no long-lasting, repairable products available? What if the cost of fixing a minor issue supersedes buying a new one? The solution lies in advocating and implementing the relevant laws.

There are many promising examples of laws that are either being proposed or already in place to combat planned obsolescence and promote sustainability. Recently, the EU put a law into action for all electronic devices to use USB-C ports, reducing e-waste from the many proprietary charging cables. In the US, 20 states have active Right to Repair legislation in 2025 ranging from wheelchairs to farm equipment. These laws can hold companies accountable for their products’ entire lifespans, require better recycling practices, and push for greater transparency regarding durability. However, according to a study by the US Public Interest Research Group (PIRG) and iFixit, a company that sells repair tools, barriers to repairing electronics still exist.

To tackle these issues, the ideal right to repair law would make repairs as straightforward as possible. This could be achieved by ensuring components are affordable and easy to find, alongside clear, detailed repair guides from manufacturers. Product designs should prioritize repairability. No glued-in batteries or strange screws. A repair scale could help consumers easily assess how simple it is to fix a product. Repair shops and maker spaces that encourage people to repair their own devices or other products could be given incentives by the government to make them more commercially feasible. First and foremost, companies should be required to consider the entire lifecycle of a product, not just how to maximize profits. With robust right to repair laws, we can rebuild trust in the things we buy and create a more sustainable future.

While you may not be a lawmaker, at least, not yet, you can still make a significant impact by voicing your concerns about repairability. Laws evolve based on public demand, so it’s crucial to make your priorities known. Get vocal! Whenever you successfully repair something, share your experience on social media. Don’t hesitate to call out companies for producing subpar products. Your voice is your strongest tool for driving change.