One friend of mine from the undergraduate physics department, Yimu, recently streamed on Facebook the process of assembling a Framework Laptop, which I have never heard of and find rather exotic. It features its ability to be reassembled and repaired, unlike most mainstream laptops.
Regardless of how it is performing, this already sounds brave, since the more environment-friendly we are, the fewer computers we buy, and tech companies know that. Indeed, Microsoft and Apple often recommend you to let them recycle your old computer, in order to buy a new one with a discount plan.
Around September 2020, my Surface Pro’s battery wasn’t functioning well; it would only last roughly 2 or 3 hours if I was using OneNote. However, it was almost 3 year old, and people said this was close to its lifespan. Fine. I was going to Syntrend [三創生活] to have the battery replaced.
On the second floor of Syntrend, there was a Microsoft store. I asked a young salesman about battery replacement, and he was rude, saying that nobody in this building was willing to fix a Surface battery, because it was too risky.
Considering to buy a new Surface, I went into the neighbouring New Guanghua Digital Plaza [光華數位新天地]. I might well buy a new Surface Pro 7 of the same model; meanwhile Surface Pro X also attracted me despite being more expensive; Surface Go was portable and cheap, which was appealing too. One and another computers were lined up on the tables, including several Surfaces; I always found it amusing that the laptops displayed here, properly polished and lighted inside the glass window, looked so much fancier than the identical one I had in my backpack now.
There at another official Microsoft store, I discussed the features of Surface models with an elderly shop owner. I mentioned that I initially wanted to replace the battery, but the Syntrend store claimed that such a thing was impossible. “There is one repair store just upstairs which can do it”, he said. “What?” I exclaimed, “why wasn’t the salesman honest with me?” The owner told me of the location, and asked me whether I wanted to buy a Surface any longer. “Perhaps not now”, I said. “That is why he didn’t let you know”, said the owner, smiling slyly. I was struck and didn’t reply.
I gave my Surface to the repair store and took a rest at a coffee shop in Syntrend; I quite liked to take a stroll in this department store, where there were all sorts of weird stuffs, from mechanical puzzles to high-end audio amplifiers, but I seldom bought a thing, as after a second thought I hardly found anything I really needed. A cozy afternoon passed, and when it was almost 9pm, I returned to the repair store, surprised to see that it was done. I was charged about 5 000 NTD.
It has been a year, and the battery in my Surface is still working; in fact, I am typing on it now. I regret that I didn’t buy anything from the elderly shop owner, even if (or precisely because) he helped me. Like him, here I have a secret to tell, which is really not a secret, that we all are something unnecessary, quick to be thrown away and replaced with, but pretending to be something necessary, by buying more unnecessary phones and watches, getting adorned with unnecessary clothes, and moving into bigger, unnecessary houses. We are like an expired pork chop or a crumpled leaflet on the ground, priced but worthless.
❧ September 6, 2021