It may sound
unbelievable, but it's true. Several technological gadgets are designed to
break down shortly after their warranties expire. The harsh truth is that this
happens by design. Intentionally.
What a drag: the notebook's battery goes
out about two weeks after the end of its warranty period. Some cellphones go
the way of the dodo too early, and the inkjet printer just refuses to do what
it's supposed to do, even though the ink cartridges are almost brand-new. Scenarios
such as these play themselves out millions of times in all around the world.
Think about it: how many technological products have you retired from service
in the last five years, either willingly -- because a new product seemed to be
more attractive - or because of a defect? How many home appliances and office
machines have you stuffed into the recycling depot or the store room? If you're
anything like the average Malaysian consumer, your list probably contains two
cellphones, at least one PC/ notebook, a digital camera, one CRT monitor or
television set and a printer.
Several
technological gadgets are designed to break down shortly after their warranties
expire
The list might eventually expand to include
a scanner, a DVD player and an entire armada of defective small gadgets and
network components. The plethora of defects that put all these gadgets out of
commission raises an awkward suspicion, and you begin to feel that it couldn't
possibly have been a coincidence...
It all began with the
simple light bulb
It's not. There's more method to this
developmental madness than you might want to believe; an actual historical
pattern. About 90 years ago, during the Christmas of 1924, all the renowned
movers and shakers of the flourishing light bulb industry got together at a
hotel in Vienna. Their motives, however, were not as radiant as the products
they produced: Osram, Phillips, General Electrics and Co. formed a secret
organisation called 'Phoebus'. The goal: higher profits through fast-moving
products. Although it was possible to produce light bulbs with a burning time
of about 2,500 hours, the bosses told their engineers to reduce the global
average burning time to 1,000 hours in the next few years, and to do it in a
systematic manner. The companies could even make sure that their competitors
were toeing the line and making light bulbs that wouldn't last for too long. Any
company producing light bulbs that had an unacceptably high burning time had to
pay a penalty to the other organisation members, this perfidious plan worked:
from that time onwards, light bulbs throughout the world began burning
themselves out a lot quicker, and by the end of the decade, the sales of light
bulbs had gone through the roof.
In 1942, the US government wised up on
Phoebus. Tangible evidence was found, which consisted of records of agreements
and penalty payments. The resultant marathon trial stretched into the 50s and
produced a big victory for the organisation members. Although the ruling
officially prohibited company agreements and the artificial degradation of
light bulbs, it did not force the manufacturers to pay heavy damages.
Unsurprisingly, nothing changed in the subsequent decades. Corporations kept
signing secret agreement with each other, albeit under ever changing, phony
names. The result: in spite of all the advances in technology, most classic
light bulbs still have a burning time of about 1,000 hours.
Planned obsolescence: Industrial
botch-ups
Grandiose cheating served big businesses
well - and it's still part of their strategy, because their goal is not to
produce long lasting products, but to make as much money as they can. The short
lifespans that products are intentionally saddled with now has a name: 'Planned
Obsolescence'. Running a search for this term on Google or Bing will give you
hundreds of thousands of hits, most of which deal with commentators who drive
themselves into a red rage over the issue. However, there's no denying it: we
buy more and more things, only to throw them out shortly thereafter.
Rapid
technology change, low initial cost and with planned obsolescence have resulted
in a fast-growing surplus of electronic waste around the globe
Our entire economic system is based on this
spiral, and it's powered by mass production and consumerism. The negative
consequences of our use-and-throw society are most keenly felt in Africa and
Asia, regions that receive a large quantity of the electronic scrap that is
discarded by the West. Workers in these poverty-stricken regions do not even
have access to protective masks when they use open flames to melt the valuable
materials such as gold or platinum out of this scrap, under conditions that are
extremely hazardous to their health. The resultant vapors are highly toxic and
will plague the health of these societies for generations to come.
When it comes to the IT sector, the new
products have yet another purpose: the ever-increasing capabilities of the new
products make the consumer turn towards the latest and greatest after a
relatively short period of time. Professor Frank-Martin Belz, an economist from
Munich, calls this behavior - which is given impetus through all-pervasive
advertising and targeted marketing - 'Psychological Obsolescence'. We just
don't want to hold on to the old devices, because the new ones have a lot more
to offer.
A trick of the Chip
Manufacturers are glad to speed up the
'buy-quick-and discard- quicker7 loop with the help of hidden tricks
and little electronic refinements: you can find some examples of what they do
in the section that appears at the bottom of this page. A popular trick is to
seal the device in a manner that ensures that the user can only access the
inner parts of the enclosure if he's prepared to run the risk of destroying the
gadget (or, at the very least, its appearance). Apple leads the pack - the new
iPad, for example, is so tightly glued that you can't open it without using a
special tool.
Apple
leads the pack - the new iPad, for example, is so tightly glued that you can't
open it without using a special tool
The irreplaceable batteries that are firmly
integrated into the gadget fall into the same category. Over the course of
time, these batteries suffer losses in terms of useful capacity, which either
puts the device out of commission or compels the owner to send it to the
manufacturer, who, for the price of a new battery, does whatever it takes to
install a new one. Some camcorders do wonderful things when you equip them with
unoriginal batteries that happen to be affordable: a tiny little security chip
examines the battery (via encrypted communication), and if the battery does not
have the desired characteristics, it burns its energy at a much faster rate.
The desired effect surfaces when the unsuspecting customer curses the cheap,
third-party made battery, instead of directing his wrath at the shamelessness
of a camcorder manufacturer which only wants to sell its own batteries.
The manufacturers can also use tiny chips
to render gadgets obsolete. In the case of inkjet printers, there are some
print-heads that appear to lose their functional capacity after a certain
period of time (the same behavior is exhibited by some of the batteries that
are used in digicams and cellphones), even though they have a lot of life left
in them.
It's often just a 5-cent component that
dies
By now, it should be clear to everybody
that when it comes to inkjet printers, things aren't always as they seem. It is
well known that the partially-filled cartridges in cheap printers work like
gateway drugs, which are supposed to ensure that the user gets addicted to the
proprietary, expensive ink. Furthermore, in order to ensure that the expensive
mini-tanks get depleted as quickly as possible, many inkjet printers 'clean'
their print-heads quite frequently, and a few drops of the expensive ink always
manage to find their way into a little receiver-sponge. As soon as this sponge
gets filled up, the printer's firmware firmly and solemnly declares that the
device is defective beyond repair. However, there are tools (which often come
from Russian sources) that are available on the Internet to set the 'waste
counter' to zero - and lo and behold, the printer starts working like a charm.
It
is well known that the partially-filled cartridges in cheap printers work like
gateway drugs, which are supposed to ensure that the user gets addicted to the
proprietary, expensive ink
Persistent operational heat can also be
used to artificially age a device, and in principle, this applies to all device
categories. In this case, the undersized electrolytic capacitors are the
problem. If the heat stability is unsatisfactory, they can degrade or rupture.
Their prices Dan be measured in cents, but they can lay out products of all
categories, because they can be found on the circuit board of just about any
electrical device. Repairing the damage shouldn't have cost more than a little
of money, but naturally, the manufacturers keep their circuit diagrams under
lock and key. Furthermore, they ensure that the replacement parts are so
expensive that repairing the gadget in question usually isn't worth the effort.
You could get a brand-new device for about the same amount of money. What would
the natural choice be to you?
This also applies to new flat-screen TVs.
The normal lifespan of a television set is supposed to be 10 or even 20 years,
but the lifespans of flat-screen TVs are no longer in that league. Quite the
opposite, in fact: in a few years, many initial customers are going to get a
rude shock when their 46-inch LED TV die a premature death because the
background lighting doesn't want to go any further. The display system's
power-on buttons can be just as malevolent. Some manufacturers equip the
power-on buttons with plastic springs, rather than metallic ones. When the
plastic spring ruptures, pressing the button has no effect, because the
electric current does not reach the circuit closer. Naturally no picture
appears on the monitor. When this happens, users jump to the conclusion that
the display is 'broken', although the problem is being caused by the breakdown
of a 5 cent component.
