If you know me, you know I’m a packrat when it comes to older devices. Sometimes it’s for sentimental reasons, as silly as it may look to some. Sometimes I keep and/or acquire vintage devices on purpose because there’s something about them that fascinates me, or I feel it’s important for computing history reasons, or to study their user interface. Whatever the case may be, one thing I always do with such devices is to put them to good use, as I’m not the kind of collector who accumulates stuff to put it on display. 

So, when it comes to Apple mobile devices specifically, I still have older iPhones, iPads, and a few iPod touch models going back to iOS 4 and iPhone OS 3. Naturally, the uses of a first-generation iPod touch (2007) or iPhone 3G (2008) are quite limited today. Many applications have features that no longer work, or rely on discontinued APIs to communicate with related services, and are therefore practically useless (though I still open them every now and then to be reminded of how great certain user interfaces were on older iOS versions). 

But there are devices on slightly more modern iOS versions that keep retaining a certain degree of usefulness to me. In many respects, my first-generation iPad (2010) with iOS 5.1.1 is still a good device to use — remarkably more efficient and responsive than my third-generation iPad (2012) with iOS 9.3.5. And my fourth-generation iPod touch (2010) with iOS 6.1.6 is still very much in use: not only can I experience on a retina display the great user interface that iOS 6 had, but the extremely compact size of this iPod touch makes it a fantastic music player when I’m out and about, and when travelling it’s the main device I connect with a Libratone Bluetooth speaker and I have a very portable yet good-quality setup to listen to music.

And there’s more: both the iPad 1 and the iPod touch 4 can still run certain apps that have been discontinued, or run older versions of apps whose interface has worsened update after update, and so those older versions are still ‘the good ones’ in my eyes. Like Snapseed and Penultimate, to make a couple of examples off the top of my head.

Something I’ve been doing in recent years has been to occasionally go back to my catalogue of purchased apps and try to install some of the older ones, hoping to trigger the Download last compatible version feature. It has worked well: I can still use Microsoft’s OneNote app, the official Gmail app, or the excellent x2y by Joe Cieplinski on the iPod touch under iOS 6. These things make me happy because I feel that both the hardware and the software are not being wasted. Sure, they’re ancient devices by current tech nerd standards, but I prefer having them working on my desk or in my backpack or in my pockets, rather than thrown in an e‑waste bin where I’m not even sure whether they’re going to be fully recycled or not.

Well, long story short: it appears that recently (I don’t know exactly when, I just found out the other day) devices running iOS 5 and iOS 6 have stopped connecting to the App Store. Which means that I can no longer install older versions of apps I paid to use. Yes, I can still use those apps (some of those, at least) on more recent devices, but I should be able to install them wherever the hell I want.

Speaking of managing apps: until recently — let’s say a year ago or even less — I’ve used the last version of iTunes that lets you manage App Store apps. It’s version 12.6.5.3 and Apple still provides a separate download of it at this page. With this version I used to be able to keep purchasing iOS apps from the App Store, download them on my MacBook Pro, and install them on my iOS devices via a direct connection. This had the added benefit of letting me have a local copy of the app’s .ipa file so that I could quickly reinstall it in case I deleted the app from the device only to change my mind later. And whenever an app update was issued, I could copy the previous version of an app in a different folder, let iTunes download and update the app, and keep older versions backed up in case I didn’t like the changes in the app (often UI-related), or in case the update stopped supporting a previous version of iOS.

This was a great plan, though admittedly this backup strategy was only reserved for the apps I cared the most and utilised the most; otherwise things would have got cumbersome pretty quickly. Anyway this, too, doesn’t matter now, because for the past — uh, 10 months? — iTunes hasn’t been able to download anything from the iOS App Store. It still connects, I can still browse, and even go through my list of purchased apps, but I can’t purchase — download — install anything. Not even copies of purchased apps from iCloud.

When we talk about planned obsolescence we often refer to hardware: computers, devices, accessories. But what makes a device obsolete equally often is something that starts with the software. Features are dropped, certain operating system versions are no longer supported, certain functionalities are only recognised by newer versions (or even just the latest version) of the operating system. And while this may be justified in the case of smaller software companies and third-party indie developers who might not have the means to afford a deep level of backward compatibility, in my opinion it’s harder to excuse when bigger companies with many more resources are involved. And then there are very big companies making both hardware and software whose interest is for their customers to always — how can I put it? — to always be in the mood for upgrading their devices.

I can hear you loud and clear from here. But Rick, Apple is possibly the company that is most user-friendly when it comes to maintaining old devices functional! You can install iOS 15 on a device as old as the iPhone 6S from 2015! And like you said before, until recently you still were able to download and install apps on your iOS 5 and iOS 6 devices!

Yes, that’s great and all. But that’s not the kind of support I’m talking about. 

Why prevent iOS 5 and iOS 6 devices from accessing the App Store? The possible answer, Because it’s come the time to drop support for these old devices, leaves a lot to be desired. While I agree that currently more than 95% of iOS developers have long moved on, and finding apps that can still run on iOS 5 and 6 means stumbling on abandonware most of the times, one might want to still be able to access their purchased apps and download older versions that still run on older versions of iOS. Why remove that capability? 

If, for example, it’s a matter of updated Web security protocols that the vintage device cannot handle, then why not 1) let the user know, and 2) keep allowing iTunes 12.6.5.3 to manage iOS apps, so the user can still download and install their purchased apps from a Mac that can handle any updated Web security protocol that’s been put in place? 

Let’s make another example: why limit the support of security updates to just the two previous versions of Mac OS? There are still a lot of people running Mac OS 10.13 High Sierra and 10.14 Mojave. In a lot of professional environments, the actual Mac OS system upgrade doesn’t happen when Apple releases the new version of Mac OS; it happens when the third-party software companies making the applications or plug-ins a studio or a firm relies on, release an update or fix any compatibility issues with the new version of Mac OS (or the new Apple Silicon architecture). In these environments, users are not willing to screw up their production setups just to try out the shiny, buggy new version of Mac OS. This particular issue is exacerbated by the fact that Apple is releasing incredibly powerful Apple Silicon Macs aimed at these professionals among others, Macs that these professionals would purchase in a heartbeat, but they come with the latest version of Mac OS, and some of the software applications these professionals depend upon don’t work well (or even at all) with the latest version of Mac OS. But I’m digressing slightly here. The question remains: why not extend security coverage to at least one more previous version of Mac OS? What is so technically unsurmountable that prevents you from packaging for Mac OS 10.14 Mojave the same security patches you’re releasing for Mac OS 10.15 Catalina?

And another example: with iOS updates, why is the path always forward? Why not allow users to perform a clean, legitimate downgrade if they want to or need to? Back when iOS 9 came out, allowing the iPhone 4S and the third-generation iPad to update to it was a mistake, as iOS 9 impacted their performance noticeably. I was initially okay with iOS 9 on my iPad 3, but as time passed I regretted not staying on iOS 8.4.1. I would have loved to just be able to re-download iOS 8.4.1 and downgrade without hassle. And another thing: suppose you have an iPhone with iOS 12, you skip both iOS 13 and iOS 14, then iOS 15 comes out and nags you to update. If you do, your device will go from iOS 12 to the latest minor update of iOS 15. But what if for some reason you want to update from iOS 12 to iOS 14 instead? You can’t. Why? Because Apple. (You’re rolling your eyes and want a good reason why one would want that? How about to keep using a few great apps that you love and still want to use, but they got retired some time ago, and stopped working under iOS 15?)

Again, what is so technically unsurmountable that prevents Apple from providing an easy way to reinstall an earlier version of iOS on a device that can run it? 

I may be wrong, but the answer to all these questions is, Nothing, for it hardly looks like a technical issue. It’s a matter of policy. As I’ve often pointed out, Apple’s behaviour — at least for an outside observer — is to adopt the course that’s more convenient for them. The course that makes things easier for them to manage, streamline, deploy. It’s all very opinionated. It’s not a matter of costs or lack of resources, I don’t believe that for a second. Apple moves forward, doesn’t look back too much, and constantly nudges their users to do the same. So, Mac OS and iOS updates move forward, and your only alternative — if you don’t want to switch to another platform altogether — is to pause everything and step down from the Apple treadmill, to get back on it when you are ready. Non-Apple users often call Apple users sheep. It’s offensive, for sure, but increasingly often I’m left with the feeling that Apple treats their users just like that, behaving a bit like a shepherd dog.

Circling back to the title of this article, I’m aware that sabotage is a somewhat strong choice of word. I had no intention of writing a clickbaity title. It’s simply how I felt when I realised that my devices on iOS 5 and iOS 6 couldn’t access either the App Store or my Purchased apps; and how I felt a few months ago when I realised that I couldn’t use iTunes anymore to manage iOS apps, apart from the ones I’ve already downloaded (and thankfully stored) on my Macs over the years.

And I’m perfectly aware that some people will see this simply as a silly, whiny rant. They’ve perhaps joined the school of thought that considers software as a short-lived, disposable thing that has value until it works — strike that — until it’s allowed to work. Then who cares if the apps you paid money for can’t be used anymore on an older device that cost a non-trivial amount of money when you purchased it. And you know, shrugging and telling me that I bought that stuff years ago and it’s not worth getting worked up about it, is a reaction that would really open an interesting debate about what you value and what’s worth for you. I give tremendous value to software and to hardware that still works and still has a purpose. As I wrote in my previous piece On sideloading, I grew up in an era when software was just software and was valued very differently than today. It was software that cost more money but was also ‘allowed to work’ for longer. You were more in control of its lifespan, so to speak.

Well, my rant is over, make of it what you want. I needed to get this out of my system and I hope it’s been at least a little thought-provoking in the process.