Why did I buy a new laptop?

By Ed Nedelciu

It all started a few weeks back when I bought a black turtleneck to wear at work. Autumn in Bergen chills your bones and I figured a turtleneck will give me best of both worlds: keep me warm and make me look smart. But a turtleneck could not run my system dynamics models. I also needed a new laptop. As a new employee, I´m entitled to a new laptop, right? Besides, I had my own SEAS research budget to pay for it. My old laptop had honourably done its job for the past four years. Time had come for it to retire. No more desktop chaos, large files, lack of storage or modeling software crashes. I resolved to keep it for binging Better Call Saul, zoom meetings with friends and…to browse for a new laptop.

And browsing I did. I spent days trying to decide on which type of laptop was most fitting for my needs. I read reviews of different laptops on specialised websites and watched countless YouTube videos. I searched for technical specifications but also for what was considered “sustainable”. I was undecided. That is, until one day the YouTube algorithms sensed I was wearing my new black turtleneck and suggested one of the old MacBook ads with Steve Jobs. It was a one-way street from there and YouTube suddenly filled out with MacBook recommendations. I was hooked. If I combined one of those metallic, slim, modern-looking machines with my black turtleneck, I´d have a competent computer AND look like Steve! So I ordered it.

I remember the day my new Mac arrived. It was patiently waiting on my desk. I made myself a coffee, sat down, opened the stylish box and took out this slim, dark aluminium piece of high tech. I ran my fingers over the smooth metallic surface and then opened it. It didn’t take long for the screen to shoot up a mesmerising mix of vivid colours. I logged in and stared at the empty desktop screen, devoid of any distractions but a breathtaking aerial photo of Big Sur – one of my favourite places. But as I was recalling all the great times I had along that Cali coast, an uneasy feeling started to creep in.

What the Foucault was I doing? I didn’t pay for this laptop but I knew all too well there was a high cost for it. Sure, the CO₂ emission footprint of a MacBook halved from 2010 to 2020 (1) but for that same time period sales also increased almost twofold to 26 million units. And that’s five times more sales than in 2006 (2)! Generally, there are more than 66 minerals used in the production of a laptop (3) and many of those are either in short supply or require dirty extraction and processing, not to mention some are supplied from conflict areas (4). The push to mine all the minerals we recently discovered in the deep-sea is rooted in the need to supply those scarce minerals so that hipsters like me can get their shiny Macs. As someone who does research (and teaches) on sustainability, I was very conflicted. Just because I thought I was entitled to a new laptop, it did not necessarily mean I had to buy it.

It was true that my old laptop was simply not up to the job anymore. I was simultaneously running zoom meetings, using online facilitation platform boards and playing with large modeling software. My old machine friend was often crashing. I could’ve refurbished it, although that came with little or no warranty. Buying a second one posed the same conundrum. And then there was another thing – I wasn’t sure the university procurement allowed for any of these options and I wasn’t ready to pay from my own pocket. The issues I was dealing with were repairability, durability, cost and (possibly) vanity.

Fortunately, our society is slowly catching up to these issues. France has a repairability index ranging from 1-10, which applies to products such as laptops, smartphones or washing machines. A laptop like mine would score between 6 and 7/10. The index takes into account documentation, disassembly, availability of spare parts, price of spare parts and product-specific aspects (5). Expectations are that in 2024, the French repairability index will be replaced by a durability index, combining repairability with product reliability. Legislation on the “right to repair” has been proposed in the US and the EU, while countries like Sweden and Austria provide national or local financial support to cover part of repair costs. The municipality of Haarlem in the Netherlands is banning adverts on holiday flights, meat and cars that run on fossil fuels from 2024 (6). And in Norway, products come with a 5-year warranty, way above the minimum 2-year mandatory warranty in the EU. Hopeful initiatives, with a caveat.

All these regulations are required because in the world we live in, the economy solely sees us as consumers. With their big bucks, marketing schemes and algorithms, companies create an artificial demand by tapping into our psychology. That demand is then “satisfied” by products we don’t really need, or products that are planned with obsolescence in mind. I believe in a world where a laptop can reliably last me for at least 10 years. I believe repairing our products should be accessible and affordable. I believe in a world where ads are not constantly bombarding me and pop culture does not glorify vanity and macs – in the same way I did (so people from Apple, expect an invoice from me). In this world, my decision to buy a new laptop would no longer be justified. I´m wearing my black turtleneck as I write these lines and I wonder: what decision would you have made if you were me?

(1) Impact of buying a new laptop (David Mytton 2020)

(2) Sale of Mac computers 2006-2020 (Statista 2022)

(3) Minerals in typical computers  (NMA 2022)

(4) Technology and conflict minerals (Ethical Consumer 2022)

(5) French repairability index (Repair.EU 2021)

(6) Haarlem bans ads on meat, flights and cars running on fossil fuels (The Guardian 2022)