Right to Repair: Fixing the World
The modern world runs on consumption. Whether we like it or not, we’re all consumers—caught in an endless loop of buying, using, and discarding. And make no mistake, I’m not exempt from this. I’ve had my share of shiny gadgets and unnecessary upgrades, but I can’t fully embrace the consumerist mindset, either. There’s something unsettling about the cycle of over-consumption, especially when so much of it could be avoided if we just… fixed what we already have.
I’m a big advocate for the right to repair. The idea that the devices we buy should belong to us entirely—not just as end users but as active maintainers—is something I’m passionate about. When companies lock us out of repairs with proprietary screws, software locks, or withheld schematics, they’re not just controlling the hardware; they’re controlling us. And I’m not here for that.
That’s why I love groups like iFixit. They’re not just selling repair kits—they’re equipping us with knowledge and empowering us to take ownership of the things we use every day. They’ve become something of an advocacy group for people like me, who believe that a soldering iron and a willingness to learn should be enough to keep your devices out of the landfill.
And make no mistake, we are all consumers in this age. Whether we like it or not, we participate in the machine. But being a consumer doesn’t mean you have to accept everything about consumerism. It’s one thing to buy and use things; it’s another to let that define who you are.
I’ve seen people tie their emotions, their love, even their worth, to the price tags on gifts. Expensive, flashy things are waved around as proof of affection, screaming, “Look how much I care!” But that’s where I draw the line. Love, appreciation, and connection don’t belong on a spreadsheet. Separate your consumerist mindset from your emotions for a bit, you know? Fix what’s broken, hold onto what works, and stop assigning value to unnecessary fluff.
For me, taking steps to be a conscious consumer means more than just cutting back on impulsive purchases. It means making repairs, salvaging what can be saved, and helping others do the same. I’ve done cheap—or even free—repair work for friends and family, fixing simple electronic issues that would otherwise end up as e-waste. Every device saved from the landfill feels like a small victory, and it’s my way of putting my beliefs into action.
Repairing isn’t just about saving money or sticking it to the big tech companies (though let’s be honest, that’s satisfying, too). It’s about valuing what we already have, about pushing back against a throwaway culture that prioritizes profit over sustainability.
She’s not exactly an electronics enthusiast (though I wouldn’t put it past her to master it in no time), but I think if she was, then she'd definitely appreciate the joy of seeing a broken device light up after hours of careful tinkering. In a way, it’s like finding a missing piece of a puzzle—a feeling I can only describe as resonance.
At the end of the day, I’m not saying we can—or even should—completely step out of the consumer cycle. But we can make more conscious choices. We can value things for what they are, not for what they cost or how new they are. And most importantly, we can remember that repair isn’t just about devices; it’s a mindset. Fix what’s broken. Value what works. Keep moving forward.
And, for perhaps the first time on this blog, there’s no hidden double meaning or subtle metaphor here. This isn’t really about her. It’s about the world we live in, the choices we make, and the consequences they carry. The point isn’t to race miles ahead without pausing to think—it’s to move with the world in a way that’s mindful, sustainable, and, above all, intentional. Sometimes, the most revolutionary thing we can do is simply slow down and repair what’s already here, because we don't have long before the world either overheats and throws us off or somebody blows it to pieces.
So on that note, 73 for now
-Daniel