In 1998, Congress passed the Digital Millennium Copyright Act to protect intellectual property in the digital age. Nobody predicted it would eventually make McDonald's ice cream machines legally unrepairable by anyone except the manufacturer's technicians.
The Law That Broke Everything
Section 1201 of the DMCA prohibits circumventing technological protection measures in copyrighted software. Sounds reasonable enough. But manufacturers quickly realized they could embed software in nearly everything—tractors, phones, medical devices, even ice cream machines—and claim that accessing it for repairs violated copyright law.
The consequences were absurd. Farmers who owned $500,000 John Deere tractors couldn't fix them during harvest season without waiting for an authorized technician. Hospital staff couldn't service their own medical equipment. And yes, McDonald's franchise owners couldn't figure out why their McFlurry machines constantly displayed cryptic error codes.
Taylor Company, which makes those machines, had effectively locked out everyone except their own repair network. When the machines broke down—which they did frequently—only Taylor's technicians could legally diagnose and fix them. The DMCA made it a federal crime to bypass the software lock, even if you owned the machine.
When Ice Cream Became a Civil Rights Issue
The McFlurry machine saga reached critical mass in 2022. A repair startup challenged Taylor's monopoly, and the U.S. Copyright Office carved out an exception to copyright law specifically for third-party ice cream machine repairs. The decision was narrow, but the symbolism was enormous. If copyright law had gone so far that it prevented fixing a soft-serve dispenser, something had gone seriously wrong.
The McFlurry moment crystallized public frustration that had been building for years. People understood intuitively that ownership should mean something. If you buy a device, you should be able to fix it. Or at least try.
That intuition has translated into political action. Right-to-repair bills have now been introduced in all 50 states. When the issue reaches voters directly, it wins by landslide margins—70% or more, according to Peter Mui, founder of Fixit Clinic, which has organized over 1,300 repair events nationwide. Six states have passed comprehensive laws: California, Colorado, Minnesota, Maine, New York, and Oregon.
The Parts Pairing Problem
The newest battleground isn't about access to repair manuals or diagnostic tools. It's about parts pairing—a practice where manufacturers use software to prevent third-party or even used genuine components from working in devices.
Replace your iPhone screen with an identical Apple part salvaged from another phone, and you might get error messages or lose functionality. The hardware is perfect. The software simply refuses to recognize it because it wasn't installed by an authorized technician.
Colorado's 2024 right-to-repair law, which took effect January 1, 2026, specifically prohibits parts pairing. The law covers almost any consumer electronic device with a chip. Manufacturers can no longer use software locks to force customers into their repair networks.
This matters more than it might seem. The repair business represents 3% of the entire U.S. economy. Americans discard 350,000 phones daily, many of which could be repaired if parts were available and installation wasn't artificially restricted. Parts pairing doesn't just inflate repair costs—it makes repair economically unviable, pushing perfectly good components into landfills.
The Industry's Last Stand
Manufacturers haven't given up. Their arguments have shifted from "repairs are impossible" to "repairs are dangerous." They warn about security vulnerabilities from unauthorized repairs, liability issues from subpar components, and increased counterfeiting.
Some concerns are legitimate. A poorly repaired lithium battery can catch fire. Substandard medical device repairs could harm patients. But these risks exist whether or not repair is legal. The question is whether the solution is to criminalize independent repair or to establish standards and liability frameworks that allow it safely.
The industry's position looks weaker when you consider that independent auto mechanics have coexisted with car manufacturers for decades. Massachusetts mandated access to automotive diagnostic tools in 2012, and cars haven't become less safe. They've become more repairable.
Why Now?
The timing of the repair revolution reflects converging pressures. Environmental awareness has made e-waste politically salient in ways it wasn't a decade ago. Supply chain disruptions during the pandemic reminded people that repair is a form of resilience. And a generation that grew up with technology feels increasingly frustrated by devices designed to be disposable.
"During the last few years, interest in repair has exploded," Mui says. Organizations like iFixit score smartphone repairability and provide free repair guides. The Electronic Frontier Foundation has challenged manufacturers in court and lobbied for legislative change. What started as a niche concern of tinkerers and environmentalists has become mainstream consumer advocacy.
Bipartisan support has been crucial. Right-to-repair appeals to conservatives' property rights instincts and liberals' environmental values. Federal automobile repair legislation stalled in 2024 but was reintroduced in early 2025 with backing from both parties.
The Post-Ownership Economy Hits a Wall
The deeper issue is what ownership means in an age of software-defined products. Manufacturers have spent two decades trying to transform purchases into licenses. You don't own your tractor; you license the right to use it under conditions the manufacturer can change. You don't own your phone; you own the hardware but license the software that makes it function.
Right-to-repair laws reject this framework. They insist that ownership includes the right to modify, repair, and understand what you've purchased. This isn't just about fixing broken screens. It's about whether consumers or manufacturers control the products people buy.
The revolution isn't complete. Section 1201 of the DMCA remains on the books, and courts have consistently rejected constitutional challenges to it. State laws can require manufacturers to provide parts and documentation, but they can't override federal copyright law. Real repair freedom requires Congress to act.
Still, the direction is clear. Six states have passed laws. Twenty more are debating them. Public support is overwhelming. Manufacturers are slowly adapting, with some now advertising repairability as a feature rather than fighting it as a threat.
The McFlurry machines, improbably, still work as a reminder. If copyright law can break ice cream, it can break anything. And people have decided they've had enough.