Planned obsolescence – capitalism’s most elegant con. Why sell someone a product that lasts when you can sell them the same product repeatedly? It all began in the 1920s, when a group of German industrialists, presumably while twirling their moustaches, formed the Phoebus cartel and decided light bulbs were too reliable. From then on, bulbs would dutifully expire after 1,000 hours, like clockwork. And thus, the great tradition of engineering things to fail was born.

The fine art of designing things to break

Modern corporations have refined this practice to near-perfection. Designers now face the critical question:

“How do we make sure this thing breaks just after the warranty expires, but not so catastrophically that customers riot?”

A few master-strokes of planned obsolescence:

  • Washing Machines – Built to survive exactly two years (conveniently, one month past the warranty). The vital components? Made of cheese. The rest? Titanium. Just enough to lull you into a false sense of value before the drum falls off mid-cycle.
  • Printer Ink Cartridges – Equipped with “smart” chips that scream “I’M EMPTY!” when they’re still 40% full. Refill them? Oh no, that would be reckless. Never mind that the printer itself costs less than the ink required to print a single PDF.
  • Disposable Razors – A marvel of modern engineering. The blades? Sharp enough for three shaves. The handle? Sturdy enough to last a lifetime you’ll never use it for.
  • Nylon Stockings – Originally strong enough to tow a tank, now designed to disintegrate if you so much as look at them wrong. Because nothing says “female empowerment” like forcing women to buy new tights every time they leave the house.
  • Smartphones – Soldered-in batteries with secret kill switches that ensure your phone becomes a brick after 18 months. Apple calls it “optimised battery performance”. We call it “planned senility”.

The Environmental Catastrophe No One Wants to Talk About

All this corporate trickery doesn’t just empty your wallet—it fills landfills with mountains of perfectly avoidable waste. But why bother making things repairable when you can just sell the same customer a slightly worse version of last year’s model?

How to fight back (If you can be bothered)

  1. Learn to repair things – YouTube is full of tutorials on how to outwit corporate sabotage. (Just ignore the “warranty void if opened” sticker. They can’t prove anything.)
  2. Buy From the rare honest company – They do exist. Somewhere. Probably.
  3. Embrace the junk – Accept that your printer is a glorified paperweight and move on with your life.

The final irony

Even “eco-friendly” innovations aren’t safe. Lead-free solder sounds virtuous, until you realise it grows “tin whiskers”—tiny conductive hairs that deliberately short-circuit your devices over time. Nothing says “sustainability” like engineering failure into the very atoms of your product.

In conclusion

Planned obsolescence is the perfect metaphor for modern capitalism: a system that thrives on selling you things you don’t need, that don’t last, and that you’ll have to replace before you’ve even finished paying for them.

But hey—at least the shareholders are happy.