"The answer, it became clear, isn't whether the device works — it's whether the system lets it."
I recently faced a small but interesting decision.
The battery in my four-year-old laptop was failing. The device itself worked well, so the question was simple: replace the battery, or replace the laptop?
A new laptop would be faster and more efficient. Replacing the battery would cost less and extend the life of a device that was otherwise performing well.
In the end, I chose to replace the battery.
Not long after, while co-facilitating a course on Green Systems and the Circular Economy, the class found itself debating almost exactly the same question: If a four-year-old laptop is still performing well, why should it be replaced?
The answer, it became clear, isn't whether the device works — it's whether the system lets it.
The device may no longer support the latest operating system. It may fall outside an organisation's security requirements. Certain applications may no longer be compatible. Its warranty may have expired, or arranging repair may be more difficult than issuing a replacement.
Physically, the device may have years of useful life left. Operationally, however, the system around it may have already decided that its life is over.
That is what makes circularity more complicated than it first appears.
Product design alone does not determine outcome
We often focus on the sustainability of the product itself. How much recycled material does it contain? Is the packaging recyclable? Can it be repaired, refurbished or recycled? These are important questions.
But a product can be designed with circularity in mind and still operate within a largely linear system. A laptop may contain recycled materials and be repairable, with a recycling channel available. Yet it may still be replaced according to a standard refresh cycle, with limited consideration of whether it could remain in use, be upgraded, redeployed or refurbished for someone else.
This raises the central question: Is the product circular, or is the system around it circular?
Design is an essential starting point. Products need to be durable, repairable and capable of being disassembled. But design alone does not determine what happens to a product. Its outcome is also shaped by how organisations procure equipment, establish replacement cycles, manage warranties, assess repairs and handle returned devices. Without these supporting processes, circularity remains a product feature rather than an operating model.
The invisible infrastructure behind circularity
A functioning circular system requires infrastructure that most customers and employees never see. Returned devices must be collected. Data must be securely erased. Equipment needs to be inspected, tested and directed towards repair, refurbishment, redeployment, resale, parts recovery or recycling.
For large organisations, this becomes a coordination challenge involving IT, procurement, cybersecurity, finance, sustainability teams, vendors and recycling partners. Each function may have a different priority. IT may focus on security and compatibility. Procurement may prioritise cost and vendor simplicity. Finance may look at depreciation and total cost of ownership. When incentives remain linear, behaviour is likely to remain linear too.
Circularity therefore requires more than good intentions. It requires incentives, ownership and processes that support different choices. This could include procurement criteria for durability and repairability, contracts that include take-back and refurbishment services, and clearer accountability for what happens to equipment after its first use.
Recycling should not be the first solution
Recycling plays an important role when a product can no longer be safely or economically used. But it should not automatically be the first response. A functioning product usually retains more value than the raw materials recovered from it. Repairing, upgrading, redeploying or refurbishing it can preserve both the resources used to make it and much of its economic value.
The more useful question is not only: Can this product be recycled?
It is: What would allow this product to remain useful for longer?
These are operational design choices. In my case, the answer was a battery replacement. In another situation, it might mean upgrading memory, redeploying the device or separating hardware-refresh decisions from fixed calendar cycles.
Longevity still requires judgement
Extending product life should not become an absolute goal. An older laptop may no longer support essential security updates. It may consume more energy, require frequent repairs or affect employee productivity. The greenest device is not automatically the oldest device.
The challenge is to make replacement decisions based on evidence rather than age alone. Organisations could consider:
- Is the device still suitable for the user's needs?
- Can it safely support current software and security standards?
- Can it be repaired or upgraded at a reasonable cost?
- Could it be reassigned to another user?
- What will happen to it once it leaves the organisation?
This requires more nuanced decision-making than a standard refresh policy. It may also produce better outcomes.
From circular product to circular operating model
The shift towards circularity will not happen simply because companies design better products. It will happen when the systems around those products make repair, reuse, redeployment and refurbishment practical, trusted and economically viable.
The product matters. But the harder work is redesigning the decisions, incentives and operating processes around it.
My laptop is still working. The more important question is whether the systems around the products we use are designed to recognise and preserve the value they still hold.