Right to Repair: Do We Really Own Our Devices?

The screen on my iPhone cracked during sophomore year when it slipped from my jacket pocket onto the library steps. I walked into a repair shop two blocks from campus, and the technician quoted me sixty dollars for a new screen. Then he paused and said he could not do it. Apple serializes every part now, he explained, and the phone would reject his replacement screen even though it was identical to the original. My only real option was the Apple Store, where the same repair cost twice as much and took five days. I left confused about what I actually owned.

That moment pushed me to believe that consumers deserve the legal right to repair their own devices with parts and information from any source, because current manufacturer restrictions inflate costs, generate waste, and undermine the basic idea of property ownership.

Right to repair refers to laws and policies that would require manufacturers to provide consumers and independent repair shops with the tools, parts, and manuals needed to fix electronic devices. Companies like Apple, John Deere, and Microsoft currently restrict access to diagnostic software and use proprietary screws or serialized components that make independent repair difficult or impossible. These practices began accelerating around 2010 as smartphones became central to daily life and manufacturers realized that controlling repairs meant controlling a lucrative service market. I first heard the term during a computer science class last year when our professor mentioned that farmers in Iowa were jailbreaking their own tractors just to change the oil. That struck me as absurd, but it reflected the same limitation I faced with my phone.

The financial burden of manufacturer-only repairs falls hardest on students and low-income users who cannot afford premium service fees. After my screen incident, I researched the cost difference and found that Apple charges between one hundred fifty and three hundred dollars for common repairs that independent shops complete for half that price when allowed to do so. My roommate from rural Pennsylvania told me his family's tractor required a John Deere technician to drive two hours just to reset an error code, costing four hundred dollars in labor for ten minutes of work. These markups exist only because manufacturers have made it illegal or technically impossible to seek alternatives. I started buying used electronics after that experience, but even older devices eventually face the same repair barriers as manufacturers phase out support and parts. The result is that people replace devices far earlier than necessary, not because the hardware fails but because repair becomes more expensive than replacement.

Environmental consequences follow directly from these economic pressures. Americans generate over six million tons of electronic waste each year, and much of that comes from devices discarded due to minor fixable problems. I volunteer with a campus recycling program, and I have watched students throw away laptops with dead batteries or phones with broken charging ports. Both repairs take less than an hour with the right parts and instructions, yet manufacturer restrictions make those repairs inaccessible to most people. Mining the rare earth elements for new devices destroys ecosystems in the Congo and China, and electronic waste exported to developing countries leaches toxic materials into soil and water. When I mentioned this in an environmental studies discussion section, another student argued that recycling programs address the problem, but our professor pointed out that only fifteen percent of electronics actually get recycled and the rest end up in landfills. Extending device lifespans through accessible repair would reduce this waste more effectively than any recycling initiative.

Some argue that manufacturer control over repairs protects consumers from poor-quality fixes or counterfeit parts that could cause safety issues. This concern has some merit, particularly with lithium batteries that can catch fire if installed incorrectly. A friend who works at the campus tech support desk told me she has seen badly done repairs that damaged logic boards beyond saving. However, this argument assumes that independent repair shops lack competence or ethics, which contradicts the fact that many have operated successfully for decades. The real solution is certification and standards, not monopolistic control. States could require repair technicians to meet safety qualifications without forcing consumers to use only manufacturer-authorized services. The car industry provides a clear model: independent mechanics repair vehicles safely using standardized parts and training, and manufacturers still profit from selling parts and competing for service business. I also recognize that companies invest heavily in research and development, but restricting repairs does not protect intellectual property as much as it protects service revenue streams.

I fixed my cracked screen eventually by watching a YouTube tutorial and ordering a third-party part, but I had to disable certain iPhone features permanently because the serialization lockout persists. That compromise should not be necessary. Ownership should mean the freedom to maintain and modify what we purchase, whether that is a phone, a car, or a tractor. Over twenty states have considered right to repair legislation in the past three years, and New York passed the first broad electronics repair law in 2022, though manufacturers have already lobbied for exemptions. I now pay attention to which companies design for repairability before I buy anything, but individual consumer choices cannot fix a structural problem. We need legal frameworks that treat repair as a fundamental aspect of ownership, or we will continue paying inflated prices for devices we never truly control. The question is not whether these devices can be fixed but whether companies will be allowed to prevent us from fixing them.

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