My paternal grandfather was the kind of jack of all trades who inspired those “grandpas can fix anything” throw pillows. His official trade was building pipe organs, but over time he also learned carpentry, electrical work, plumbing, and more. He repaired so many things for friends he eventually started a tool-and-die company — fixing became the family business. Along the way he built his house from the ground up and built me the most elaborate dollhouse any child has every received, with working light switches and hand-carved furniture, from dining chairs with little upholstered cushions right down to a rocking porch swing. (My grandma, for the record, was no slouch either, but being a product of the 1930s, her handicrafts were textiles and food.)
I wasn’t planning on writing about repair this week, but a couple things conspired to make it so. One was a lot of repair-oriented wins from y’all. The other was a great brief interview with Sandra Goldmark in Bill McKibben’s newsletter. Goldmark is the author of Fixation: How to Have Stuff without Breaking the Planet and one of the co-founders of a series of pop-up repair events in New York City. Here’s something Goldmark said that really got to me:
Repair is about really understanding what we have, how it is designed, who makes it, and under what conditions. In short, it’s about rethinking what we value. We live in a society that drastically undervalues care of all kinds, from repairing toasters to maintaining subways to caring for children. . . . Fixing stuff is actually part of a much larger and much-needed shift towards really seeing and caring for the incredible blessings all around us, from toasters to each other all the way up to our shared planet.
Sandra, YES! We’ve talked before about the material impact of stuff, the embodied carbon (and other pollutants) that come with manufacturing a thing. And we need to minimize that as much as possible. But I love that this goes beyond preventing harm: it’s about embodying responsibility, care, and gratitude, and I think that’s the ticket to protecting our little blue marble.
Here’s another thing I love about repairing stuff: it’s absolutely a green action, but it doesn’t have to be political or polarizing. Regardless of your ideological convictions, there’s something intrinsically satisfying, even therapeutic, about taking something broken and making it work again. Even your uncle on a steady diet of Fox News might complain that things aren’t well-made anymore. In her book, Goldmark notes that people get really attached not just to stuff, but to their stuff; it makes up the props, the set, in which our lives take place. It’s part of our story.
For all my rose-coloured words here, repair isn’t always pretty or easy or convenient or what we want. Sometimes it would feel so nice to get a shiny new thing, a fresh slate. Right now, as Black Friday looms, we’re all being bombarded with newer-better-faster at (artificially) rock-bottom prices, and our brains are jonesing for the dopamine hit that comes from buying. And sometimes, in a system built on obsolescence and fast-everything, it does make sense to replace an item. But often you can get by. It might not always feel good to fight the power and get the fridge you hate repaired, as my friend just did, but doing it anyway has so much integrity.
The more we can practice care and repair, the better our world will be. There is no Earth store, where we can get a new one when this one conks out, so care and repair is our only way forward.
Now let’s look at a few strategies to stretch our stuff a little longer.
Scrub it down.
Cleaning can be a form of repair, because let’s be honest, a lot of us get rid of stuff that simply has gotten too gross. But there is hope to restore things with the right deep cleaning. Pillows yellowed with man-head sweat, tea towels dingy, or workout clothes permanently smelly? Try laundry stripping. Toaster oven so crusty it’s setting off the fire alarm on the regular? Oven cleaner to the rescue. And though you know I am a hippy dippy Earth mother, I’ve recently come around to using some high-test cleaning products to bust through 11 years of accumulated grime in my home. If it’ll give you a couple more years out of an item, I support a little bleach or the magic of powdered Tide now and again. I may have been lightly brainwashed by the @gocleanco IG account, but also my shower grout has never looked this clean and my little COVID cage is feeling a lot better.
Fix it (or find somebody who will).
I bet we all have something in our house right now that needs repair. (I can think of four things off the top of my head.) Pick one. Set aside five minutes to search the web after you read this, and you’ll probably find a solution. [Ed. note: It took me three years and five minutes to fix a chipped bowl!] These are the annoying, low-priority tasks that ever-so-subtly weigh on you: completing them feels great.
And if you can’t fix it, find a professional: a tailor or a cobbler, for example. Before COVID put them on hold, Toronto had an amazing series of repair cafés, where volunteer fixers sorted by specialty (textiles, jewellery, tech, appliances, etc.) would set up and work on whatever broken item you have. At these cafés, they ask owners to watch the fix happen, so that you learn a thing or two. We brought in an automatic kibble dispenser a while ago. The best part, aside from an item brought back to life, was when the fixers were successful they’d ring a little hand bell and everyone would clap. As we sat and waited, we’d hear bell after bell, signalling something else getting a second life.
When it’s safe to mingle yet again, attend a repair café or start one up if you’re particularly handy.
Buy from companies that stand by their products.
I was given a Saje essential oil diffuser that puffed away happily for a while, until one day the clouds of steam slowed to a trickle. I saw that they have a lifetime efficacy guarantee, so I brought it into a store, expecting them to just give me a new one. I was a bit grumbly about this, imagining my current diffuser headed to landfill, so imagine how pleased I was when the sales associate popped it open, replaced a metal disk the size of a dime, and handed it back. The company not only stood by their products, but had designed them to be easily repaired — the opposite of how most manufacturers operate. Similarly, I was waiting in line at a Patagonia recently, and someone had brought in a jacket with a broken zipper. It was repaired in less than ten minutes at no cost. (The company even offers some DIY repair guides for their products to help you fix them at home.)
If secondhand isn’t working out and you need something new, look for a company that has a lifetime (or at least long-lasting) warranty or a repair program. (A few that spring to mind beyond the two I mentioned: Darn Tough socks, Away luggage, Eddie Bauer, Craftsman tools, Zippo lighters, Cutco knives, and Kryptonite bike locks.) You’ll usually pay more (sometimes a lot more than a fast-fashion equivalent), but if you can afford it and it lasts the rest of your life, the numbers may work out, especially when you take into account your own time spent researching, buying, and getting rid of a series of items.
Repair the law.
Of course the best tool to repair our broken production system is legislation, in this case, right-to-repair legislation, which would remove some restrictions (parts availability, manuals, voided warranties) on who can fix things like cars, tractors, major appliances, consumer technology, and medical equipment. During the pandemic some hospitals found themselves with broken ventilators that they could potentially fix but were not allowed to — they were required to go back to the manufacturer even in this most urgent situation.
Companies like Apple, Microsoft, Samsung, and John Deere have worked hard to lobby against right-to-repair legislation, arguing it would endanger intellectual property or erode certain standards. (Apple has recently allowed independent repair places to fix its devices.) Farmers, who often have the know-how to fix their machinery, crops on tight schedules, and not a lot of money to burn, are particularly hard hit by restrictive legislation.
Europe is leading the way with right-to-repair coming to product policies by 2021 as part of the European Green Deal. Manufacturers will have to make repair parts available for up to 10 years after something is made. In the U.S., 25 states are considering amending their laws. In Canada, we’re lagging behind. Ontario, MPP Michael Coteau introduced a private member’s bill that would allow consumer access to parts, manuals, etc., for repairs, but it was voted down in May 2019. In Quebec, MPP Guy Ouellette has brought forward a similar bill that would also require household appliances to have labels with the average time they last before need of repair. (Imagine!) The Greens and NDP have mentioned right-to-repair in the last election cycle, but the other major parties have been mum on it.
All of this is useful in the fight against planned obsolescence, that evil treadmill that keeps cash flowing out of our bank accounts and stuff flowing into landfill.
TL;DR
Cleaning and repairing can revive a lot of items, reducing pollution and the draw on your bank account.
If you’re particularly handy, consider hosting a repair café post-COVID.
Buy from companies that offer long warranties or guarantees.
Support right-to-repair legislation.
Reader wisdom
After last week’s winter-is-coming edition, Nathan offered a hot tip for cold days: “After clearing the heavy [snow] with a shovel, a stiff deck scrub brush does wonders for clearing a walkway right down to the pavement — and unlike shovels, brooms work just as well on irregular surfaces like cobblestones. If you can get your brushing done before midday, the winter sun will do a fair bit of the work warming the pavement sufficiently to prevent further accumulation. No salt required!” If you ever have hot tips or additional knowledge about a topic, hit reply and fill me in so I can share with the class. Thanks, Nathan!
Wins of the week
“Buy quality. Not too much. Mostly used.” — Anne Marie Bonneau, the Zero Waste Chef, after Michael Pollan
This week is an all-repair edition! Because it seems repair was in the air for you guys too.
Lyn repaired the holes in her merino sweater!
Rather than caving and buying a new phone, Susannah bought a new battery! (More on the eco impact of phones here.)
Lindsay is a pro at visible mending and made her kids’ pants with worn-out knees look even better than when they were new, imho! (Visible mending, for the uninitiated, is mending that’s meant to be seen, akin to Japanese boro stitching. It’s beautiful!)
Keep those wins coming! It’s as easy as hitting reply to this email or leaving a comment. And if you know someone who would like this newsletter, remember sharing is also caring.
xo
JK
Five Minutes for Planet is written by me, Jen Knoch, and edited by the incredible Crissy Calhoun. Opening photo by Dan-Cristian Pădureț on Unsplash.