The recent discussion around Amazon’s Kindle platform has brought the idea of planned obsolescence back into focus. The reaction has been strong, and in many ways understandable. People are questioning how something they have paid for, sometimes at a price comparable to a physical book, can be subject to change, restriction, or even removal over time.
At face value, this feels like a failure of the digital model. However, when looked at more closely, the issue is less about obsolescence itself and more about a misalignment between expectation and reality.
Obsolescence is not new in technology. In fact, in many areas, it has been quietly accepted for years. The difference in this case is not the behaviour of the product, but the assumptions people bring to it.
Obsolescence is already normalised in technology
In sectors such as computer gaming, the lifecycle of digital products is widely understood. Games are tied to platforms, hardware generations evolve, and content is frequently replaced or repurchased as systems move forward. Players accept that access is conditional and that longevity is limited by the surrounding ecosystem.
This acceptance does not come from a deep understanding of licensing agreements or technical dependencies. It comes from experience. Over time, users learn that participation in these ecosystems requires ongoing investment, whether that is in new hardware, updated software, or repurchasing content.
What is notable is that this same understanding has not carried across to other forms of digital content, particularly those that closely resemble physical goods.
The influence of physical ownership
Books are a useful example because they represent one of the clearest forms of ownership people experience. A physical book is tangible, independent, and durable. Once purchased, it can be read, shared, stored, or revisited without any reliance on an external system. There is no ambiguity about what has been bought or what rights the owner has.
Digital books, particularly those delivered through platforms like Kindle, mimic many aspects of this experience. They are presented in familiar formats, priced in a similar range, and positioned as direct alternatives to their physical counterparts. This creates a natural assumption that the underlying ownership model is also the same.
In reality, it is not. Access to a digital book is dependent on a platform, an account, and a set of licensing agreements that can change over time. The experience feels permanent, but the underlying model is conditional. It is this gap between perception and reality that creates tension when limitations become visible.
The nature of software and change
From a software development perspective, permanence is difficult to achieve in any meaningful sense. All software exists within a constantly evolving environment. Operating systems are updated, security vulnerabilities are discovered, and the technologies that underpin applications continue to change.
Even well-designed systems require ongoing maintenance to remain secure, compatible, and functional. Without this investment, they will gradually degrade. This is not typically the result of deliberate design decisions intended to limit lifespan, but rather a consequence of building on top of layers that are themselves in motion.
It is entirely possible to retain ownership of software and continue using it indefinitely, but the practical reality is that its usefulness will diminish without continued support. In this sense, ownership and longevity are related but not equivalent.
This is something we see regularly at Cielo Costa. Many of the solutions we work with have been designed well and delivered successfully, but their long-term value depends on how they are maintained and evolved over time. The technology itself is rarely the limiting factor. It is the absence of ongoing attention that leads to decline.
Shared responsibility
What emerges from this is a shared responsibility between users and providers. Users need to recognise that digital products operate under different conditions to physical ones. Expecting them to behave identically will inevitably lead to disappointment.
At the same time, organisations have a responsibility to communicate these differences clearly. When digital products are presented in ways that closely mirror physical ownership, without adequately explaining the limitations, it creates a misleading impression.
Clarity is particularly important because not all users have the same level of technical understanding. The nuances of licensing, platform dependency, and long-term support are not always obvious, yet they have a direct impact on the value of what is being purchased.
Rethinking the conversation
The current focus on planned obsolescence risks oversimplifying the issue. In many cases, obsolescence in software is not only unavoidable, but necessary to ensure security, compatibility, and progress.
The more important question is whether users have a clear and accurate understanding of what they are buying. Where expectations are aligned with reality, obsolescence is less likely to be perceived as a failure.
Where they are not, even reasonable limitations can feel like a breach of trust.
What this means for how we build and deliver software
For those of us working in software development and technology consultancy, this is not just a theoretical discussion. It directly shapes how we design, deliver, and support the solutions we build.
Every system we create is part of a living environment. It will evolve, it will require maintenance, and over time it will become obsolete if it is not actively supported. That is not a weakness in the system, it is a reflection of the ecosystem it operates within.
At Cielo Costa, this is something we are explicit about in our engagements. Delivering a solution is not the end of the journey. It is the point at which a system becomes part of a client’s ongoing operations, and therefore part of a broader lifecycle that needs to be managed.
This has implications for how we structure both our technical and commercial approaches. Ongoing support, licensing, and continuous improvement are not simply optional extras. They are the mechanisms that ensure software remains secure, relevant, and aligned to changing business needs.
It also influences how we design solutions in the first place. Building with change in mind, managing dependencies carefully, and creating clear upgrade paths all contribute to reducing the impact of inevitable change over time.
Perhaps most importantly, it reinforces the value of transparency. When clients understand how their systems will evolve, and what is required to sustain them, they are far better positioned to make informed decisions. That clarity builds trust and avoids the kind of disconnect that often sits at the heart of debates like the one surrounding Kindle.
Rather than attempting to eliminate obsolescence, the focus should be on alignment. This means ensuring that products are communicated, priced, and designed in ways that accurately reflect how they will behave over time.
It also means recognising that our understanding of ownership is still heavily influenced by physical goods, even as we increasingly operate in digital environments.
As these environments continue to evolve, so too must our expectations. At the same time, organisations have a responsibility to be clear about the nature of what they are providing and how it will change.
If that balance can be achieved, obsolescence becomes less of a point of friction and more of a recognised part of the lifecycle of modern software.
