One reason that I wanted to participate in R for Repair is because, like many people, I’m not very good at fixing things or even just living with repaired objects. Ever since childhood, I’ve lusted after the new and pristine – and even if we agree with the politics of repair, many of us remain easily seduced by the promise of newness. While the ‘right to repair’ movement may be a critical darling, its actual practice is far from widespread and the infrastructure and product design principles that would enable its wider adoption remain largely absent.
Repair remains niche: unlearning the habits of a lifetime is hard, commerce bites deep, and what may feel exciting within a critical design exhibition can be difficult to execute in everyday life. When Graham was broken, it felt like he was spoilt. When I attempted to repair him, I didn’t feel like a progressive maker at the vanguard of contemporary design practice; I felt like a man with a broken toy puffin, basting him in glitter I’d ordered off Amazon.