France Introduces Landmark Law Targeting Deliberate Product Failure

In a world where smartphones often struggle to last three years and printers seem to fail just after their warranty expires, France decided to confront a question that many consumers quietly ask themselves: are some products designed not to last? For years, frustration simmered among customers who felt trapped in a cycle of replace rather than repair, watching drawers fill with outdated cables and closets collect unused devices. While many dismissed these concerns as exaggeration, a growing number of activists, lawmakers, and everyday citizens began to examine whether modern manufacturing had drifted too far from durability and too close to disposability.

At the center of this shift stands Laetitia Vasseur, founder of HOP, who once said, “I’m not ‘David vs. Goliath’. I just want the law to be respected.” What began as one woman’s reaction to a documentary evolved into lawsuits against global technology companies, parliamentary battles, and some of the strongest anti obsolescence measures in the world. France became the first country to criminalize planned obsolescence, introduced a national Repairability Index, and pushed the European Union to act. The question now is whether these reforms are strong enough to truly change how products are designed, sold, and used.

The Film That Changed Everything

Vasseur traces her awakening to a 2012 screening of the documentary “The Light Bulb Conspiracy,” also known as “Pyramids of Waste.” The film examined historical and modern examples of products allegedly engineered to fail prematurely, including printers disabled by embedded chips and the infamous 1920s lightbulb cartel that limited bulb lifespans. It also highlighted Apple’s practice of gluing batteries into AirPods, making replacement nearly impossible. “It was a turning point in my life,” she later explained.

The scale of the waste described in the film was staggering. In 2016 alone, more than 44 million tons of electronic waste were generated globally, much of it burned or buried, contaminating soil, air, and water. The World Bank estimates that humanity produces roughly two billion tons of solid waste every year. Behind each broken device sits a trail of mined metals, factory emissions, shipping routes, and discarded components that rarely return to productive use.

When Vasseur arrived at her office the next morning, she told her boss, Senator Jean Vincent Placé, “We need to make a law against planned obsolescence in our country.” Placé later admitted, “Honestly, I didn’t know what it was at the time,” and recalled that he was not convinced. Still, he trusted her instincts and challenged her to show what could be done. That conversation marked the beginning of a political campaign few believed would succeed.

Resistance Inside Parliament

The early push for legislation was anything but smooth. Industry representatives denied that planned obsolescence existed. Gérard Salommez, President of Gifam, declared, “There is no planned obsolescence in household appliances.” Economist Alexandre Delaigue went further, describing the concept as “a myth, nurtured by a left wing ideology of degrowth,” and insisted that “This practice has never been seen on household appliances, whether large or small.”

Critics argued that competition would naturally punish companies that produced low quality goods. In theory, consumers dissatisfied with a product could simply switch brands. In practice, Vasseur found that concentrated markets, opaque supply chains, and increasingly complex electronics made it difficult for consumers to identify more durable alternatives. Many products were becoming harder to open, harder to diagnose, and more expensive to fix.

By March 2013, Placé and the Green Party introduced a bill proposing extended warranties, mandatory spare parts availability, and criminal penalties for companies found guilty of intentionally shortening product lifespans. The Greens held only a small share of parliamentary seats, so instead of forcing a vote they requested a debate. During that debate, while some lawmakers expressed concern about burdening businesses, no one stood up to defend the practice itself. That silence created an opportunity.

Criminalizing Planned Obsolescence

In August 2015, France passed an energy transition law that included a historic provision: planned obsolescence became a criminal offense punishable by two years in prison and a fine of 300,000 euros. It was the first time any country had formally defined and banned the practice in its legal code. For activists, it felt like a breakthrough. For skeptics, it seemed symbolic and difficult to enforce.

Adèle Chasson later described the law’s passage as catalytic, saying, “When that law passed in 2015, that was really the start of it for us, the catalyst.” Yet proving intentional obsolescence posed a major challenge. To bring a case forward, evidence had to demonstrate that a company deliberately reduced a product’s lifespan, a high legal bar that required technical investigation and consumer testimony.

This is where HOP, Halte à l’Obsolescence Programmée, became crucial. The organization gathered hundreds of complaints about printers and thousands about iPhones. In late 2017, HOP filed complaints against Epson and Apple. The Apple case, related to the slowing down of older iPhones, resulted in a 25 million euro fine for deceptive commercial practices in 2020. While modest compared to Apple’s revenues, it signaled that the law could be applied.

From Lawsuits to Systemic Change

After the Apple case, Vasseur recognized that punishment alone would not transform industry standards. “After the Apple case, I understood that there wouldn’t be a lot of clear cut cases like this one,” she explained. If durability was to become the norm, manufacturers needed incentives and public recognition, not only the threat of fines.

Her response was to promote transparency through a Repairability Index. Introduced in 2020 as part of France’s anti waste circular economy law, the index requires certain products to display a score from 1 to 10 indicating how easy they are to repair. The score reflects criteria such as disassembly, availability of spare parts, and access to repair documentation. By making repairability visible at the point of sale, France shifted the conversation from hidden design decisions to public comparison.

The impact has been measurable. Surveys show that more than half of French consumers are aware of the index and most of those who know it trust it. Manufacturers seeking higher scores have begun redesigning products to improve access to components and spare parts. Camille Beurdeley of Gifam acknowledged that companies are already making products more repairable in response to the new system. Instead of framing durability as anti business, the policy reframed it as competitive advantage.

The Circular Economy Vision

For Vasseur, durability is only one piece of a broader transformation toward a circular economy, where products are reused, repaired, refurbished, and recycled rather than discarded. During her travels in Southeast Asia and beyond, she experimented with radical minimalism, reducing her belongings to essentials and disconnecting from constant consumption. “The fact of disconnecting totally from mass consumption reconnected me to nature. That’s when I became an environmentalist,” she reflected.

The urgency is backed by data. Pascal Durand, French Member of the European Parliament, warned, “Every day in Europe, 43 kg of resources is consumed, per inhabitant. That is 30% more than 50 years ago! We have become a disposable society.” He emphasized not only environmental costs but social ones, noting that low income households are often forced to replace products more frequently.

Consumer attitudes appear to be shifting. Christopher Santerre observed, “Nine years ago, almost no one had heard about planned obsolescence. It sounded like a barbaric technical term. But it’s huge!” He highlighted the environmental toll of e waste and argued that production methods must fundamentally change. France has also introduced a Repair Fund that subsidizes fixes at approved repair shops, making repair financially competitive with replacement.

Europe and Beyond

France’s reforms have influenced the European Union, which passed a resolution in 2017 encouraging longer product lifespans and greater repair access. Durand explained, “Nobody claims to solve all problems with a magic wand,” but stressed that there is now broad consensus to tackle product durability. The European Union has since adopted stronger right to repair measures affecting all 27 member states.

The United Kingdom now requires spare parts availability for certain appliances, and in the United States right to repair legislation has been introduced in dozens of states. Although approaches differ, momentum is building internationally. Chasson expressed hope that France’s example would spread, stating that if planned obsolescence is prohibited but never applied, “there’s no point having a law.”

Vasseur remains pragmatic yet optimistic. “Now that we have a prototype that works in France,” she said, “we are working on extending the Durability Index to the European Union and the rest of the world.” Whether other nations adopt similar measures may depend on political will, industry cooperation, and consumer demand.

A Durable Lesson

France has not eliminated waste, nor has it completely solved the challenge of proving intentional obsolescence. Enforcement remains complex, and global supply chains stretch far beyond national borders. Yet in just over a decade, the country has criminalized planned obsolescence, secured fines against multinational corporations, introduced a national Repairability Index, funded repair initiatives, and influenced European legislation.

The deeper transformation may be cultural rather than legal. Repair is no longer a niche hobby but a public policy objective. Durability is no longer framed as nostalgia but as innovation. Citizens are more aware of how long products last and what options exist when they break.

Whether planned obsolescence ultimately becomes obsolete remains uncertain. What is clear is that one activist’s insistence that “I just want the law to be respected” helped push a national conversation into the global spotlight. In a world grappling with resource depletion and mounting waste, that persistence may prove to be France’s most durable export.