The right to repair

Last month the battery in my three-year-old phone started dying by lunchtime. The shop at the mall quoted me nearly half the price of a new phone to replace it. The salesman was very helpful. He showed me the new model, which was on special offer. I said I'd think about it, went home and watched repair videos instead.

Changing a battery should be a ten-minute job. On my phone, it isn't. The back is glued shut, so you have to warm it with a hairdryer and lift it with a suction cup. The battery itself is stuck down with strong tape. I'm fairly handy, but I came close to cracking the screen twice.

This is exactly what the right-to-repair movement is fighting. Its supporters say that once you've bought something, you should be free to fix it yourself or take it to any repair shop. Glued-in batteries, scarce spare parts and rules that let only official technicians touch a device all push people towards buying new. That's bad for our wallets and for the planet, since millions of tonnes of electronic waste are thrown away every year.

Manufacturers see it differently. They say that opening a device can be dangerous, especially with lithium batteries, and that bad repairs could hurt their reputation. Critics reply that the real issue is money, because companies earn more when we replace things.

The law is slowly catching up. The European Union now requires manufacturers to keep spare parts available for years after a product goes on sale. Several American states have passed laws that give independent shops access to tools and manuals. In France, phones and laptops carry a repair score out of ten, so you can compare them before you buy. Partly in response, some big brands now sell repair kits and design batteries that are easier to swap.

As for my phone, I got the new battery in after an hour and a lot of swearing. It now lasts all day. I won't pretend it was fun, but I saved a lot of money. Next time I buy a phone, I'll check how easy it is to repair before I look at the camera.