The Right to Break Things

I must have been four years old when we got our first computer. My mom was studying, and my parents bought a brand new machine with a printer. She placed it in the living room on a brand new desk, and I remember waiting impatiently for her to finish her work so I could have my turn.

Using that Windows 98 computer was a privilege—my mom made sure I understood that. Because I knew it was expensive and that she kept important things on it, I was only allowed to use Paint and launch an encyclopedia program. Sometimes I’d open the file explorer and navigate around, but I knew I was venturing into uncharted territory at my own risk.

Eventually, my mom replaced it with a newer computer, which meant the old one became mine. I was finally allowed to have it in my room. There was no internet connection, but I remember the summer when my cousin and I figured out how to install a NeoGeo emulator—the same arcade system that ran at the cafe in our small town and had eaten so much of our money on Metal Slug and BomberMan At that age, in our minds, NEO•GEO didn’t belong to SNK Corporation. It belonged to Zela, the town’s cafe owner..

That was always the lifecycle: brand new meant untouchable. Only when things were about to expire, when they’d lost their critical value, was I allowed to explore their full potential.

As an adult, I’ve tried to change that. Hacking should be encouraged. We should all feel free to tinker. Hacking is an act of freedom—and even though we should be aware of the value of things, we shouldn’t be afraid to open them up.

I write these words mostly to myself. Today, because of a bad hack, I ruined a €50 piece of brand new furniture. I feel terrible—as bad as if I’d deleted one of my mom’s important projects from that first computer.

But that guilt is the old mindset talking. The one that says new things are sacred. The furniture is gone. Fifty euros I’ll never get back. Still, I’d rather live in a world where I try things and sometimes break them than one where I’m too afraid to tinker.