Fifteen Years Too Late: Why Are Governments Always Playing Catch-Up With Big Tech?
There was a time when replacing a mobile phone battery was one of the easiest things you could do. If your phone struggled to hold its charge, you simply removed the back cover, took out the old battery and fitted a replacement. It was quick, relatively inexpensive and meant that a perfectly functional phone could continue being used for years. Today, that same procedure can require specialist equipment, professional assistance and a repair bill that makes buying a new phone seem increasingly attractive. Yet rather than questioning why something so straightforward had become unnecessarily complicated, consumers largely accepted the change as another consequence of technological progress.
Now, more than a decade after sealed smartphones became commonplace, European lawmakers are introducing stricter requirements to make batteries easier to replace and electronic devices more repairable. It's a welcome development, particularly as electronic waste continues to present a growing environmental problem. However, the announcement raises a much bigger question about the relationship between governments, technology manufacturers and the people purchasing their products. If the problems associated with sealed batteries have been apparent for so long, why has it taken legislation until now to address them?
When repairing something became replacing it
The shift towards sealed smartphones happened remarkably quickly. Samsung's Galaxy S5, released in 2014, featured a removable battery while still offering protection against dust and water. Just a year later, the Galaxy S6 arrived with a completely different approach, abandoning the removable battery in favour of a sealed glass and metal design. Samsung wasn't alone in making this transition, with Apple's iPhone having adopted a non-removable battery from its introduction in 2007. According to a European Commission assessment, the proportion of mobile phones featuring non-removable batteries rose from approximately 10% in 2012 to 90% by 2017.
Manufacturers had legitimate engineering reasons for making these changes. Sealed designs offered advantages when creating slimmer devices, integrating larger components and improving protection against the elements. But the consequences for consumers were significant, particularly as batteries remained one of the components most likely to deteriorate through everyday use. A relatively inexpensive replacement that once took seconds became something many people were unwilling or unable to attempt themselves, increasing their dependence upon professional repairs and manufacturer-approved services.
There was also an obvious commercial benefit to making replacement more attractive than repair. A consumer who continues using the same phone for five years is buying fewer devices than someone replacing theirs every two or three years, and manufacturers have a financial interest in maintaining sales. That doesn't establish that companies universally adopted sealed batteries to force consumers into buying new phones, but it does expose an uncomfortable conflict between commercial incentives and product longevity. More importantly, it raises questions about why governments allowed the ability to repair everyday technology to become progressively less convenient without introducing stronger protections much earlier.
Fifteen years to agree on a charging cable
The history of phone charging provides another example of governments taking years to resolve an issue that affected millions of consumers. As far back as 2009, the European Commission began encouraging manufacturers to adopt common charging standards, recognising the inconvenience and environmental waste created by incompatible connectors. Voluntary agreements helped reduce the number of different charging solutions available, but manufacturers retained considerable freedom over their designs. Apple's Lightning connector became the most recognisable example, remaining a feature of the iPhone long after USB-C had become commonplace across much of the wider technology industry.
It wasn't until 2022 that the European Union adopted legislation establishing USB-C as a common charging standard, with the requirements coming into effect for mobile phones in December 2024. Apple had already introduced the connector with its iPhone 15 range in September 2023, bringing its phones into line with a standard it had previously adopted for several other products. The eventual result was greater convenience for consumers and fewer reasons to accumulate incompatible charging cables, but reaching that point had taken approximately fifteen years from the Commission's initial push for common chargers.
For something as relatively straightforward as a charging connection, that seems an extraordinary amount of time. While legislation requires consultation and careful consideration, this was hardly an emerging problem that nobody could have anticipated. Consumers had been dealing with incompatible cables for years, and the environmental consequences of unnecessary electronic accessories were already well understood. The eventual legislation addressed a genuine problem, but its long development also demonstrated how slowly governments can respond when industry practices become entrenched.
Regulation existed, but was it doing enough?
It would be misleading to suggest that governments had completely ignored repairability throughout this period. European battery legislation dating back to 2006 already included requirements concerning the removal of batteries from electrical equipment. However, those provisions did not necessarily guarantee that an ordinary consumer could replace a battery easily, allowing arrangements where removal could be carried out by qualified independent professionals. The distinction helped create a situation in which a product could technically be repairable while remaining difficult or expensive for its owner to maintain.
More substantial protections are now being introduced. EU smartphone ecodesign requirements that took effect in June 2025 include provisions covering battery durability, spare parts availability, software support and repairability. Additional battery legislation applying from February 2027 will strengthen replacement requirements across covered products, although exemptions and specific smartphone rules mean this won't necessarily bring back the easily removable battery covers of older handsets. Nevertheless, the direction is clear: manufacturers are being pushed towards making products last longer and giving consumers greater opportunities to maintain them.
The situation in Britain highlights another difficulty. Although the UK introduced right-to-repair requirements for certain household electrical products in 2021, smartphones were excluded. The newer European battery legislation applies in Northern Ireland under the Windsor Framework, while Great Britain has yet to adopt an identical regime. This leaves British consumers depending partly upon manufacturers choosing to offer similar products and repair arrangements across their different markets, rather than enjoying an equivalent guarantee through domestic legislation.
How long should consumers have to wait?
Technology companies regularly introduce innovations at a pace that governments struggle to match, and there are perfectly reasonable arguments against imposing unnecessary restrictions upon developing industries. Manufacturers need room to experiment, and legislation that is poorly considered can create problems of its own. But that freedom should not mean consumers are left without adequate protection while companies establish practices that become increasingly difficult to challenge. When millions of people are affected by decisions about repairability, compatibility and the lifespan of products they own, waiting more than a decade to establish meaningful standards begins to look less like caution and more like a failure to respond.
The problem extends beyond mobile phones. Many modern devices depend upon proprietary components, specialised repair procedures, ongoing software support and services controlled by the original manufacturer. Consumers can spend substantial amounts of money purchasing technology while having surprisingly little freedom over how it is maintained or how long it remains useful. As products become increasingly connected and dependent upon software, the question of what ownership actually means becomes even more important.
Governments cannot anticipate every technological development, but they should be capable of recognising when an established industry practice is working against the interests of consumers. The fact that European authorities are now strengthening repairability requirements is encouraging, yet it also demonstrates how much ground was lost while the industry moved towards products that were increasingly difficult to maintain. We shouldn't have needed fifteen years of discussion to recognise the benefits of a common charging cable, nor should replacing a deteriorating battery have become such a complicated procedure before lawmakers decided to intervene.
And perhaps the most troubling aspect is what this tells us about the future. Artificial intelligence, automation and digital services are developing at extraordinary speed, creating questions about employment, privacy, ownership and accountability that are considerably more complicated than anything involving a smartphone battery.
If governments have taken this long to address problems we could physically see and understand, how confident should we be that they'll respond quickly enough to the technological challenges we can barely begin to predict?
