When did deciding to buy a replacement for something broken rather than fixing it become a thing?

That question occurred to me nearly 20 years ago after moving to Mexico. About six months in, my blender broke. I sighed, shrugged, and thought, “Guess I need to buy a new one.” It was a reflex, not even a decision.

When I told this to my girlfriend at the time (now my wife), she looked at me as though I had sprouted a third eye.

“Why would you buy a new one without trying to fix it first?” she asked.
I blinked, honestly confused. “Because I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Of course you don’t. That’s why you take it to a repair man,” she said, slowly, the way you might explain things to a particularly slow 5 year old.

And just like that, she whisked the blender away. 

A week later, it was back on our kitchen counter, whirring away as if nothing had ever happened. Cost of repair: less than $5. Time required by the repair man: about 10 minutes, using a part salvaged from another old blender.

It wasn’t the blender itself that made an impact. It was that fixing it never even crossed my mind. Buying new had become my default.
And that realization got uncomfortable.

If I automatically wanted to throw away a blender instead of fixing it, where else in my life was I doing the same thing?

Do I cut off friendships after one bad argument instead of working to repair them?
Do I scrap a business the second it hits a rough patch instead of solving the hard problems?
Do I look for a new job the moment my current one stretches me in uncomfortable ways?

How often do I toss away something valuable because I think it’s “easier” to buy new than to put in the work of repair?

The truth is, fixing things takes humility. You have to admit something’s broken. You have to ask for help. You have to trust someone else might have the tools you don’t. 

Buying new? That’s quick, painless, and it hides the lesson you were supposed to learn.

And yes, the same mindset sneaks into education. Some people will buy the newest shiny course, app, or platform every time they feel stuck, instead of repairing the system they already have. They think what they need is “new knowledge.”

In reality, what they often need is clarity on the path they’re already on, connection to others walking it with them, and accountability to keep moving forward.

Whether it’s a blender, a business, or a school, maybe the better question isn’t “What can I buy next?” but “What can I fix?”

Because sometimes the things worth keeping aren’t the newest. They’re the ones you’ve already invested in, waiting to be repaired so they can keep serving you for years to come.