Built To Break | The Business of Planned Obsolescence

By DR. DAVID PRICE | Professor of Marketing | Brenneman School of Business | Washburn University

Maybe you’ve had the same thought: your phone starts freezing just after the warranty expires. Or when your washing machine sounds like it’s trying to launch into orbit. Or your printer suddenly refuses to print unless you change the cartridge that still has ink left. These aren’t always random quirks. In many cases, they’re by design.

Welcome to the quiet, frustrating and surprisingly profitable world of planned obsolescence, the business of making sure things don’t last forever.

Planned obsolescence is when companies design products with shorter life spans, limited functionality or a ticking clock on their usefulness. The idea is to subtly (or not so subtly) push you to replace rather than repair. While it may sound shady, it’s been a staple of product strategy for nearly a century. As someone who teaches marketing and entrepreneurship, I understand the rationale: it keeps innovation moving, revenues growing and factories humming. But as a consumer, it can feel like a rigged game.

Now, in an era when sustainability matters and consumers are demanding more transparency, the old tactics are facing new scrutiny. Let’s take a closer look at where it all started and how it’s playing out today.

THE ORIGINS AND FLAVORS OF OBSOLESCENCE

Planned obsolescence isn’t new. One of the earliest and most infamous examples goes back to the 1920s and the so-called Phoebus Cartel, a group of major lightbulb manufacturers who agreed to limit the lifespan of their bulbs to around 1,000 hours. This wasn’t because longer-lasting bulbs were impossible. Quite the opposite: they were entirely capable of making them last much longer. But longer life meant fewer sales, and fewer sales meant smaller profits. The fix? Engineer the bulbs to fail sooner. 

That’s the basic formula: a product that breaks down, wears out or just seems behind the times creates a repeat customer. And over the years, this philosophy has evolved into different flavors, each with its own strategy and side effects. 

Let’s start with one you’ve probably encountered firsthand. 

1. TECHNICAL OBSOLESCENCE: The Slow Fade 

This is the version most of us know by experience. Also called “contrived durability,” technical obsolescence happens when a product becomes incompatible with new technology or physically wears out due to design limitations, often before it really should. 

Take smartphones. You update the software and suddenly your once-speedy device starts dragging like it’s walking through molasses. Apps crash, battery life nosedives and soon enough it won’t run the latest updates at all. You’re not imagining it. Apple was fined in France in 2018 for intentionally slowing down older iPhones with software updates. The company paid $27 million and, in a rare corporate moment of honesty, admitted they’d done it to “protect battery performance.” 

Smart TVs offer another example: some can’t run newer streaming apps after a few years. Or how about printers? Many ink cartridges include chips that disable the cartridge not when it’s empty, but when it’s low. Refilling them often requires specific brands, approved stores and maybe a little witchcraft. Video game consoles? Often designed without backward compatibility, nudging players to repurchase games they already own. 

Now, let’s be fair. Tech evolves quickly and companies can’t support every dusty device forever. There’s a line between realistic product support and clinging to the past. But it’s also clear that some of this is intentional. Batteries sealed into devices, updates that degrade performance, proprietary accessories that change every few years. You guessed it — none of it happens by accident. 

For businesses, the upside is clear: it creates predictable product cycles, repeat customers and more efficient inventory planning. But for the rest of us? It can feel like an endless treadmill of upgrades. Not because we want to, but because we have to. 

2. PSYCHOLOGICAL OBSOLESCENCE: The New-Model Mindset 

If technical obsolescence is about performance, psychological obsolescence is about perception. The product still works, but somehow, it just doesn’t feel right anymore. 

You’ve seen this play out every time a new version of a product hits the shelves. Suddenly, the old one seems … embarrassing. Think of fashion. A jacket that kept you warm and stylish last winter might feel a bit dated this year, but not because the fabric failed, but because the cut or color fell out of step with what’s “in.” The goal isn’t to replace what’s broken. The goal is to make you want something newer. 

Back to my daughter’s iPhone. Her old one still texts, takes calls, plays music and posts selfies with perfect clarity. But compared to the sleeker, thinner, new model? “Outdated.” Psychological obsolescence doesn’t wait for a device to die, it plants the idea that it’s already past its prime. 

The auto industry practically wrote the playbook here. Ever notice how car manufacturers update models every year, even when there’s little change under the hood? A slightly new grille, rearranged taillights, a modest infotainment tweak and voilà, last year’s model now looks like it belongs in a museum. Same engine, new package. And yes, it works. 

This strategy extends across nearly every industry. Kitchen appliances with trendy matte finishes, toothbrushes in limited-edition colors, sneakers with a slightly different logo placement. Even packaging gets subtle overhauls to signal newness, so your pantry contents feel stale before they expire. 

And let’s not forget the marketing machine behind all of it. Advertisements, influencer campaigns and social media are constantly reinforcing what’s current, what’s “you,” and by contrast, what’s no longer cutting it. Subtle status cues and a healthy dose of FOMO (“fear of missing out”) drive the cycle forward. 

For companies, this form of obsolescence is gold. Unlike technical wear-and-tear, it doesn’t require product failure — just a shift in desire. It taps into our basic human need to belong, to express identity and yes, to show off a little. And when executed well, it keeps customers coming back not out of necessity, but aspiration. 

Of course, there’s a cost. This type of constant churn contributes to more waste, more consumption and more pressure on consumers to keep up or fall behind. And while businesses enjoy the revenue, they risk alienating customers who eventually ask, “Do I really need a new one or am I just being told I do?” 

3. REPAIR OBSOLESCENCE: When Fixing Isn’t an Option 

If technical obsolescence slows down your product and psychological obsolescence makes it feel outdated, repair obsolescence is the moment when your perfectly fixable item becomes effectively disposable. 

This is the one that really gets under people’s skin. The device isn’t broken beyond repair, it’s just designed in a way that makes fixing it nearly impossible. Maybe the battery is sealed in with industrial-grade glue. Maybe the parts are proprietary or the screws are the kind that only a specialized tool (sold separately, of course) can open. Or maybe you take it in for repair and the technician gently informs you that fixing it will cost just a little bit less than buying a new one. And hey, for just $50 more, you could upgrade to a brand new one. 

Sound familiar? 

Smartphones are repeat offenders here. Replacing a battery used to be something you could do with a fingernail and 30 seconds of fumbling. Now it requires a heat gun, a YouTube tutorial and an unwavering sense of determination. Laptops are increasingly difficult to open, printers throw cryptic error messages that only the manufacturer can decode, and cars are becoming harder to fix without manufacturer-approved software and diagnostic tools. 

This isn’t accidental. Many companies don’t provide public access to repair manuals or they limit the sale of replacement parts. In some cases, third-party repair attempts can void warranties. All this puts consumers in a tight spot: replace the product or risk losing support altogether. 

To be fair, manufacturers argue that tighter designs improve product safety, reduce user error or enhance aesthetics. And sometimes they do. But often, the real benefit is on the company’s balance sheet. Encouraging replacement over repair means more units sold, more recurring revenue and fewer customers hanging onto decade-old devices. 

WHY BUSINESSES PLAY THE OBSOLESCENCE GAME

From a business standpoint, planned obsolescence isn’t just defensible, it’s just downright smart. Designing a product with a predictable expiration date helps companies manage inventory, plan R&D, time product launches and keep the revenue wheel turning. It’s the same reason new phones arrive like clockwork every fall. Entire marketing calendars are built around it. 

And let’s be honest: building long-lasting, repairable, backwards-compatible products might be great for consumers, but it’s not always great for quarterly earnings. If customers hold on to what they have, it slows down sales of what comes next. Of course, not all obsolescence is sinister. In fast-moving industries like tech, it’s simply not practical to support every old device forever. In sectors like fashion or automotive, change is often the point. Customers expect it and sometimes demand it. 

The trouble begins when consumers feel forced into an upgrade they don’t want, or worse, manipulated into thinking their perfectly functional product is somehow obsolete. That’s when trust erodes. In an age of online reviews, repair forums and rising environmental awareness, brand loyalty can disappear quickly and consumers are starting to push back.  

THE CONSUMER PUSHBACK: REPAIR, REUSE, RESIST

Critics of planned obsolescence aren’t new. As early as the 1960s, writers and economists were sounding the alarm on waste, manipulation and excess. But in recent years, consumer sentiment has started turning into real pressure. 

Globally, e-waste reached over 70 million tons in 2022. That’s not just landfill clutter, either. It’s a massive drain on raw materials, labor and energy. The 2023 decision by the European Union to require Apple and others to adopt a universal USB-C charger wasn’t about convenience, it was about reducing unnecessary waste. 

The “right to repair” movement has gained serious traction in recent years, with legislators and advocacy groups calling on companies to give consumers more control over the stuff they own. A growing number of states are considering laws that would require brands to make repair information, tools and parts available to the public. Some European laws have already passed and consumer expectations are shifting with them. 

In the meantime, a few smart companies are embracing repairability as a selling point. Brands like Framework Laptops are designing tech that can be opened and upgraded with a simple screwdriver. Fairphone makes modular phones with swappable parts. Patagonia will repair your jacket for free and even encourage you not to buy a new one. 

Even better? Younger consumers, especially Millennials and Gen Z, are paying attention to these issues. They’re not just shopping based on features anymore. They’re shopping based on values and brands that care. So, it turns out there’s a market for durability after all. Companies willing to embrace that shift may find themselves not just ahead of regulations, but ahead of the trust curve, too. 

WHERE ALL THIS LEAVES US

Each flavor of obsolescence — technical, psychological or repair — represents a different approach to growth. Do you build for speed or do you build for staying power? Do you design for the next sale or for the next decade? 

As a marketing professor, I understand why businesses rely on these strategies. As a consumer (and as a dad with a daughter eyeing her fourth iPhone), I also understand the frustration. That’s the tension at the heart of planned obsolescence. It isn’t always evil. Sometimes it’s just the market doing what markets do: evolving, optimizing, adapting. But when companies choose to shorten product life by design, making it hard to repair or easy to discard, they risk more than customer irritation. They risk becoming irrelevant to the very people they hope to keep. 

For now, at least, it appears planned obsolescence is still a cornerstone of product strategy. So, the next time you hear someone say, “Boy, they don’t make ’em like they used to,” just nod. They’re probably right.