Chels

Last week, Amazon announced that they’re discontinuing support for old Kindle models. As with everything online, it sparked debate.

Kindles made before 2012 will no longer be able to connect to the Kindle store, and you’ll only be able to download new books onto them by connecting them (via cable!) to a laptop or computer. As well as this, factory resetting the Kindles will render them virtually useless. As someone with a Kindle coming up on two decades old, sometimes it just needs a factory reset to function properly. I can’t imagine this is a problem unique to me, so I’m certain the factory reset change is the biggest worry for people still using older Kindles.

Obviously, users are upset by this. Why wouldn’t you be? I often fall on the side of the nervous luddites – new technology can sometimes be daunting, but at the same time unnecessary. I mean, I imagine a lot of people take the view that a Kindle is unnecessary when you can just buy or borrow physical books. I feel similarly about the modern Kindle. Mine is old enough that there’s virtually no internet access in general, there’s barely a highlight function, and miraculously, it’s not a blue light screen. The original Kindles were complicated for late night reading – you still needed a light on as the screen mimicked a paper page, but you didn’t have to deal with either the glare of a device screen or the impossible task of being comfortable and still able to turn the pages. Most importantly, there are no ads. 

I’ve been content with my Kindle for years, I’ve had no desire to replace it. (In fact, when I thought it had broken, I was adamant that I’d only replace it with a model of the same generation.) As a result, I know very little about modern Kindles, and it was only in researching for this post that I discovered the newer models have ads. Must everything be a tool for advertising? If the blue light screen and increased ability to distract oneself weren’t enough to dissuade me, I certainly couldn’t stand knowing it was a tool to advertise to me.

People on the other side of the argument, those who think the solution is just to buy a newer model, seem not to be bothered by all the so-called ‘improvements’ made to Kindles that have made the whole experience seem so off-putting. I don’t want 25% faster page turns if it means I have to see sponsored screensavers.

It sets a precedent too. If in 2026, all models from 2012 and earlier will become inconvenient and impractical, who is to say how long a 2026 model will stay functional. I get that technology does have to be replaced, and nothing lasts forever, but we’re in an era of planned obsolescence, iPhones that lose quality as soon as the newest model comes out and ‘smart’ appliances that cost double the price and work half as well; I just don’t trust a newer model to last me as long as my old one has. 

I don’t use my Kindle as often as I should. I used to read classics on it when I was younger, but since then, I’ve purchased almost all of the books I’d read as physical copies. It was incredibly useful during uni; I’d use Project Gutenberg to download the books I couldn’t check out from the library to save me from having to purchase books (although, again, I’ve ended up buying a few of them as paperbacks after enjoying them so much). I think I probably lean more towards owning physical copies of books, as much as I love my Kindle, and when mine eventually dies, I’d be unlikely to purchase a newer model.

That might make my thoughts on the changes irrelevant, because it won’t really affect me – I’ll keep reading paperbacks – but there’s something to be said about the concept of not owning what you pay for. For example, say you purchased 10 books on the Kindle store on an old model and only read 5. Yes, you can still access them, but what happens when the kindle inevitably has to undergo a factory reset? You’ll no longer have access to those books despite having paid for them. Not only that, but I recently found out that authors and publishers can edit ebooks and they’ll change on devices – something that just can’t happen with a physical book. What’s to stop them (or anyone) deleting the entire file, restricting access to the book? I became extra wary of this sort of thing when Nintendo announced that no one will actually own switch 2 games, they only own the license to play them (something that they can revoke, despite taking large payments for games). I hate that everything is so temporary these days, between rented downloads and monthly subscriptions, and the Kindle announcement is just another reminder that physical media is the way to go – books and dvds can deteriorate, but they’re owned – no one can revoke your access to them in an attempt to make more money.

All of this has suggested to me that as convenient as a Kindle has been at times in my life, I certainly won’t buy an updated model, and I’d rather stick to the ownership of physical copies.