Consumerism
Broken!
The Moral Ethics of Planned Obsolescence and of Selling Crappy Things
The irony was in full bloom when I started preparing for this article. My Dell laptop took about 45 minutes to boot up. Then loading windows failed several times before it began to work, somewhat. It is a seldom-used paperweight, my Dell.
In the Moral Ethics universe, I am a Kantian deontologist. Duty-bound. I always chuckle to myself about that. As the old saying goes, “Immanuel Kant, but at least Immanuel tried.” If I make a commitment, I do my very best to honor it. When I fail, I’m ashamed and try to make amends. Nobody keeps all promises. Admitting, apologizing, and making amends is better than gaslighting.
A utilitarian would strive for the maximum happiness for the maximum number of people. There are too many flavors of moral ethics to cover, but the concept is familiar to all.
Early in our computer-owner relationship, I pleaded with an indifferent woman in Dell customer service whose checklists didn’t include my problems. So, to her, I didn’t have a problem. Everything was hunky-dory to Dell. They had my money, and my issues weren’t on their list, so they kept my money.
NOUN. A policy of producing consumer goods that rapidly become obsolete and so require replacing, achieved by frequent changes in design, termination of the supply of spare parts, and the use of nondurable materials. (online dictionary)
I pay my bill and tip well. When we needed a bathtub changed in our home, we called contractors. A lot of contractors. One called back. I explained what we wanted.
I had hired these guys for large projects before, so I was comfortable that they would show up for building an estimate. No show, no call. I called back. The guy told me I got the date wrong. I didn’t but didn’t argue. He said he’d call back with another date. No call. When I tried to call back again, a few times, no answer.
Unless we want the uncertainty of ordering appliances and having them shipped to our landlocked town months and, yes, years later, we must buy locally. Mainly what our box stores sell are Samsung and LG. But our appliance repair folks won’t service those brands; it seems that they cannot get parts or support from those companies.
I could go on, but you get it.
Do businesses have a legal responsibility to their customers? No. They have a fiduciary duty to make money for their owners or shareholders, no matter the cost to us. Do they have an ethical responsibility to us? I think so.
We’ve become so accustomed to buying things that don’t work that it’s become the new normal. I’m old enough to remember a time working tended to it was born after the invention of planned obsolescence but before the time for every product that was forced to work with scrap.
I sometimes wonder if the world would be a better place if the middlemen just ripped the raw resources from the earth and took them directly to the landfill or dumped them in the ocean.
In the grand scheme of civilization, business is here to serve the needs of society, not the other way around. Whether it started with lightbulbs, GM cars, or Studebakers, succeeding at designing failure into our products is obviously good for business. Is it good for society?
The onset of COVID-19 has reintroduced hard times to people. Mostly poor people who cannot afford to re-buy things that Dell, Apple TV, or Shelter-Logic has screwed me on. Is there a place for government requiring ethics in business? I think so.
