Autopsy of a “Water-Damaged” iPhone: The Moment of Truth
The Forensic Teardown
A friend brought me an iPhone he dropped in a pool. It was dead. This wasn’t a repair; it was an autopsy. I opened it and saw the tell-tale signs. The small, white “liquid contact indicators” inside had turned bright red. There was blue-green corrosion on the copper connectors of the logic board, evidence of electricity flowing through water, creating a short circuit. The final cause of death? A tiny, burnt-out power management chip. Could it be saved? Maybe, with a new board. But the original brain was gone, a victim of a fatal swim.
This Laptop Was “Run Over by a Car.” Could It Have Been Saved?
The Post-Mortem of a Pancake
My neighbor accidentally ran over his laptop with his car. He gave me the mangled remains for a forensic teardown. The screen was obliterated, and the plastic case was a jigsaw puzzle of shattered pieces. But I was curious. I opened what was left of the chassis. The motherboard was snapped completely in half—the point of no return. However, the small, solid-state drive (SSD) was in a protected corner and looked physically unharmed. I removed it, plugged it into my PC, and all his data was there. The patient was dead, but we had saved its soul.
A “Lightning Strike” Destroyed This PC. Let’s Follow the Path of Destruction
The High-Voltage Crime Scene
A nearby lightning strike traveled through the phone lines and into my friend’s PC. I performed the post-mortem. The entry point was the modem. From there, the energy traveled up the ethernet cable. I could see a blackened, burnt trace on the motherboard leading from the ethernet port to the main chipset, which had a visible crater in it. The surge was so powerful it had even fried the connected graphics card. It was a clear, violent path of destruction. The only survivor? The hard drive, which was on a separate power rail.
Forensic Analysis of a “House Fire” Computer: What Survived?
The Archeology of an Inferno
I was given a PC that had been recovered from a house fire. The plastic front panel was a melted, Dali-esque nightmare. The cables were scorched and brittle. I opened the metal case. Inside, a thick layer of black soot covered everything. The motherboard was warped. But the mechanical hard drive was encased in its own metal shell. I carefully removed it, cleaned the soot off the circuit board, and plugged it into my test bench. To my astonishment, the drive spun up. The family’s photos, protected by a simple steel box, had survived the inferno.
This “Exploded” Power Supply Took the Whole System With It. Why?
The Anatomy of a Catastrophic Failure
This PC was brought to me completely dead after a loud “pop.” The culprit was the cheap, generic power supply unit (PSU). I did an autopsy on the PSU itself and found a blown primary capacitor. When it failed, it didn’t just die; it sent a massive, unregulated surge of high-voltage DC power down all the lines into the motherboard. It was like a dam bursting. This single surge destroyed the motherboard, the processor, and the graphics card. It was a textbook case of a cheap PSU failing to “fail safely” and killing the entire system.
I Dropped My Phone from a “5-Story Building” for Science. Here’s What Broke First
The Destructive Test
I took an old, non-working phone and dropped it onto concrete from a five-story balcony to see what would happen. I filmed it in slow motion. The phone landed on a corner. The first point of failure was the glass back, which instantly shattered into a thousand pieces. The impact energy then transferred to the aluminum frame, which bent significantly. The front screen, surprisingly, only cracked after the frame flexed. The internal components were a mess, but the logic board was physically intact. It was a fascinating lesson in materials science and impact dynamics.
Autopsy of a “Corroded” Game Console Found in a Flooded Basement
The Slow Death by Water
I was given a game console that had sat in a flooded basement for a year. It was a beautiful, tragic mess. The steel case was covered in rust. I opened it, and the inside was a terrarium of green and blue corrosion. The copper traces on the circuit board were being eaten away. The legs of the chips were fuzzy with crystalline growths. This wasn’t a single event; it was a slow, chemical death. There was zero chance of repair. It was a powerful lesson in how moisture and time are the ultimate enemies of electronics.
The “Point of No Return”: Identifying the One Component Failure That Dooms a Device
The Fatal Wound
In every device, there is a “point of no return”—a component that, if it fails, makes a repair economically or practically impossible. On a modern laptop, it’s often the main processor (CPU) being permanently soldered to the motherboard. On a sealed tablet, it might be a cracked logic board. When I’m diagnosing a device, my first job is to determine if this fatal wound has occurred. If the CPU is fried, the patient is dead. My job then shifts from “repair” to “data recovery,” saving the files from the still-good storage drive.
This Laptop’s “Battery Exploded.” We’re Going In
The Aftermath of a Thermal Runaway
A customer brought me a laptop with a massive bulge in the case. The lithium-ion battery inside had failed, swelled up, and burst. After safely removing and containing the hazardous battery, I performed the autopsy. The heat from the battery failure had melted the plastic case and warped the motherboard. A close inspection under the microscope revealed that several small chips near the battery connector were scorched and bubbled. The exploding battery had caused a chain reaction, taking out the entire logic board with it. The device was beyond saving.
The “Chain Reaction” Failure: How a 10-Cent Part Destroyed a $2000 Machine
The Ripple Effect of a Single Failure
This expensive workstation computer was completely dead. The autopsy revealed a fascinating and tragic story. The initial point of failure was a tiny, ten-cent cooling fan for the motherboard’s chipset. When that fan failed, the chipset overheated. This caused the chipset to send a garbled signal to the main power controller. The power controller, confused, then sent a massive jolt of 12-volt power to the processor, which was only designed to handle 1.2 volts. The processor instantly fried. It was a catastrophic chain reaction started by the tiniest, cheapest component.
I Put a “Smartphone in a Blender.” Here’s What the Circuit Board Looks Like
The Pulverized Patient
For a fun, destructive YouTube video, I put an old smartphone in a blender. The result was a confetti of glass, plastic, and metal. I was curious to see what was left of the logic board. I sifted through the wreckage and found a few pieces. Under the microscope, it was a scene of pure carnage. The multi-layered circuit board was snapped and delaminated. The tiny chips were cracked or had been ripped completely off their solder pads. It was a powerful visual representation of the incredible violence of a physical impact on a microscopic scale.
Autopsy of a “Counterfeit” MacBook Charger After It Melted
The Fire Hazard in Disguise
A friend’s cheap, counterfeit MacBook charger melted while plugged into the wall. I did an autopsy to see why. A genuine Apple charger is a masterpiece of complex engineering and safety circuits. The counterfeit, on the other hand, was mostly empty space. It had the bare minimum of cheap, low-quality components needed to function. There was almost no insulation, no proper heat sinks, and no safety cut-offs. It was an accident waiting to happen. This teardown was a stark reminder that the price of a charger often reflects its hidden safety engineering.
This “Saltwater” Drowning is a Tech’s Worst Nightmare. Let’s See the Damage
The Ultimate Corrosive
Saltwater is infinitely more destructive to electronics than freshwater. I did an autopsy on a phone that had been dropped in the ocean. Saltwater is highly conductive and incredibly corrosive. When I opened the phone, the damage was apocalyptic. Every single metal component, from the screw heads to the connectors, was covered in a crust of green and white corrosion. The salt had literally eaten away the thin copper traces on the logic board. The device wasn’t just dead; its electronic soul had been dissolved. There was zero chance of recovery.
A “Power Surge” So Bad, It Blew a Hole in the Motherboard
The Exit Wound
This PC was hit by a massive power surge during a thunderstorm. When I opened the case, I could immediately smell the burnt electronics. The damage was not subtle. There was a literal hole, about the size of a dime, blown straight through the multi-layered fiberglass of the motherboard. The entry point was a power regulation chip, which had vaporized, and the exit point was a blackened crater on the other side. It was a visceral reminder of the immense, destructive power of electricity when it’s uncontrolled.
Forensic Teardown of a “Rage-Smashed” Keyboard
The Anatomy of Anger
A friend who is a frustrated gamer gave me a keyboard he had smashed against his desk in a fit of rage. I decided to do a forensic teardown. The plastic case was shattered, and many of the keys had flown off. But inside, I could see the story. The point of impact was clearly visible on the bent metal backplate. I could see how the force had transferred through the case, cracking the main circuit board in three different places. It was a fascinating look at the physics of an impact and the failure points of a consumer-grade product.
Could This “Termite-Infested” Wooden Console Radio Have Been Saved?
The Biological Deconstruction
I found a beautiful, wooden console radio from the 1940s in an old barn. As I lifted it, sawdust poured out. It was infested with termites. The wooden cabinet, the most beautiful part of the radio, was a hollowed-out shell, structurally unsound. I opened the back. The insects had even started to eat the paper cones of the speakers. The electronic chassis inside was mostly untouched, but the vessel was gone. Could it be saved? Yes, if I built a whole new cabinet. But the original, historical object was lost to nature.
The “Microscopic” View of a Fried CPU Die
The Silicon Crime Scene
A processor that has “fried” from overheating often looks fine to the naked eye. The real damage is at a microscopic level. I took a dead CPU and, using chemicals, I “de-lidded” it, removing the metal heat spreader to expose the silicon die inside. I put the die under a powerful microscope. I could see a distinct discoloration and even some tiny, bubbling pits on the surface of the silicon. It was the physical evidence of a “thermal event,” a microscopic crime scene written on the face of the chip.
I “X-Rayed” a Destroyed Phone to See the Internal Damage
The Invisible Wounds
I had a phone that was so physically mangled it was unsafe to open, but I was curious about the internal damage. I have a friend who is a veterinarian. I asked him if I could use his office’s X-ray machine. The resulting image was incredible. I could see the battery, slightly bent. I could see the logic board, cracked in two different places. I could even see the tiny ribbon cables, torn and disconnected. The X-ray allowed me to perform a non-destructive, internal autopsy and see all the fatal wounds without ever opening the case.
This Was a “Mint Condition” Vintage Mac Until It Fell Down the Stairs
The Tragedy of Gravity
A collector brought me a tragic case: a pristine, museum-quality Macintosh Classic that had fallen down a flight of stairs. The beige plastic case, which had become brittle with age, had shattered into a dozen pieces. The heavy CRT monitor inside had broken free from its mountings and smashed the internal circuit boards. It was a scene of total devastation. We were able to salvage a few small components, but the beautiful, iconic computer was gone forever. It was a heartbreaking reminder of the fragility of even the most well-preserved history.
Autopsy of a “Liquid-Cooled” PC After a Catastrophic Leak
The Day the Dam Broke
A gamer brought me his high-end, liquid-cooled PC after a fitting on one of the tubes failed, spraying coolant all over the inside. The coolant itself was non-conductive, but it was full of a bright green dye. When I opened the case, it was a crime scene. The green dye had stained everything. The liquid had pooled on the graphics card and, over time, the additives in the coolant had started to corrode the delicate surface-mount components. The leak had caused a slow, chemical death for a very expensive machine.
The “Sand” and “Grit” That Ground This Camera’s Gears to a Halt
The Abrasive Assassin
This camera was taken on one too many beach trips. The lens was stuck and wouldn’t zoom. I did an autopsy. I completely disassembled the complex lens barrel, with its dozens of tiny, interlocking plastic gears. The inside was filled with microscopic grains of sand. The sand had worked its way into the grease of the gear train, turning it from a lubricant into a gritty, abrasive paste. The tiny plastic teeth on the gears had been completely ground down to nubs. The lens had literally ground itself to death from the inside out.
This “Melted” Graphics Card Tells a Story of Overheating and Denial
The Plastic Puddle
The owner of this graphics card swore it “just stopped working.” The autopsy told a different story. The cooling fan on the card was completely seized with dust. The plastic fan shroud around the heatsink had a distinct, melted droop to it. The thermal paste on the main chip was dried into a crust. The evidence was clear: the fan had failed long ago, but the owner had continued to use it, ignoring the warning signs, until the card had cooked itself to a literal melting point.
I “Dissected” a Swollen Battery to Understand Why It Failed. (EXTREME DANGER)
Inside the Spicy Pillow
Disclaimer: This is incredibly dangerous and should never be attempted. To understand why lithium batteries swell, I performed a dissection in a controlled, outdoor environment. I carefully cut open the foil pouch of a swollen battery. Inside, I found the layers of anode, cathode, and separator, which are normally tightly wound. The swelling was caused by the breakdown of the battery’s electrolyte, which had released a flammable gas, pushing the layers apart. It was a fascinating, if terrifying, look at the volatile chemistry inside every modern gadget.
The “Rust” That Ate Through a Steel PC Case
The Slow Oxidation
I was given a very old PC that had been stored in a leaky shed for a decade. The steel case was covered in rust. This wasn’t just surface rust; it had eaten all the way through the metal in several places. The case was as fragile as a cracker. It was a powerful visual lesson in oxidation. The combination of oxygen and moisture had slowly but surely converted the strong, solid iron of the steel case into weak, flaky iron oxide, destroying the machine’s very skeleton.
How to Read the “Burn Marks” on a PCB to Trace a Fault
Following the Soot Trail
A circuit board with a burnt component is a crime scene, and the soot is the evidence. I was looking at a board with a visibly exploded chip. I could see a faint trail of soot leading from one of the pins on that chip to another, nearby component. This told me that the failure was likely a short circuit between these two parts. By following the path of the “smoke,” I can often deduce the sequence of events and pinpoint the original source of the catastrophic failure.
This “Crushed” Tablet: Is the Data Still on the Memory Chip?
The Resilience of Solid State
I was given a tablet that had been crushed. The screen was gone, and the logic board was snapped in half. The owner only cared about her photos. The data is stored on a small, black “BGA” memory chip on the logic board. I examined the board under a microscope. The section of the board with the memory chip was, miraculously, still intact. In theory, a data recovery lab could perform a “chip-off” recovery, physically removing that chip and reading the data from it. The body was destroyed, but the brain might have survived.
The “Biohazard” Teardown of a Disgusting, Moldy Laptop
The Hazmat Repair
A customer brought me a laptop they had found abandoned in a foreclosed house. It was a biohazard. It was covered in a thick layer of black mold and smelled terrible. I put on gloves and a respirator mask before I even touched it. I took it outside to do the teardown. The inside was even worse, with cobwebs and evidence of insects. It was the most disgusting repair I’ve ever done. The device was unsalvageable, but the forensic teardown was a fascinating, if stomach-turning, exploration.
I Analyzed the “Shrapnel” from an Exploded Capacitor
The Autopsy of a Component
A large capacitor on a power supply board had exploded with a loud bang. It had ripped the metal can apart and sprayed its paper and foil guts everywhere. I gathered the “shrapnel” for analysis. I could see that the rubber seal at the bottom had failed, and the electrolyte inside was dried and crusty. This told me the capacitor had likely been failing for a long time, slowly building up pressure from gas created by overheating, until it finally, violently, burst.
Could This “Sun-Baked” Dashboard GPS Unit Have Been Restored?
Death by a Thousand UV Photons
This old GPS unit had spent a decade sitting on a car’s dashboard. The plastic case was incredibly brittle and had cracked in several places. The LCD screen underneath the glass was faded and yellowed, like an old newspaper. The sun’s constant, intense UV radiation and heat had broken down the polymers in both the plastic and the liquid crystal display. While I could probably have replaced the parts and fixed it, the original materials were so degraded that the device had effectively been cooked to death.
The “Evidence” That Proves This Was a “User-Induced” Failure
The Case of the Spilled Cola
A customer brought in a “dead” laptop, swearing it “just stopped working.” My autopsy told a different story. When I opened the keyboard, I found a sticky, brown residue underneath. I looked at the logic board under a microscope and saw the tell-tale signs of liquid corrosion on several of the chips. The evidence was undeniable: someone had spilled a sugary drink, like a cola, into the laptop. My forensic analysis proved that this was not a warranty issue; it was a user-induced failure.
I Put a “Hard Drive in a Microwave.” Let’s Examine the Platters
The Data-Destroying Sparks
As a purely destructive experiment, I put an old hard drive in a microwave. The result was spectacular. The moment I turned it on, a brilliant lightning storm of sparks erupted inside. The high-powered microwaves were arcing between the metal platters and the read/write heads. After a few seconds, I took it out. I opened the drive, and the surface of the mirror-like platters was covered in a beautiful, fractal-like pattern of burns and pits. The data was not just erased; it was physically vaporized.
The “ESD” (Electrostatic Discharge) Event That Killed This RAM Stick
The Invisible Bolt of Lightning
This stick of RAM was dead, but it looked physically perfect. There were no burn marks, no cracked chips. The only way to diagnose this kind of failure is with deductive reasoning. The owner told me he had tried to install it himself, on a carpeted floor, in the winter, without an anti-static wrist strap. The cause of death was almost certainly a massive “Electrostatic Discharge” (ESD) event. A tiny, invisible spark, carrying thousands of volts, had jumped from his finger to the delicate memory chip, silently killing it.
Autopsy of a “Cheap Drone” After a 100-Foot Crash
The Unscheduled Landing
This cheap, toy-grade drone had a catastrophic failure and fell 100 feet onto pavement. The autopsy was revealing. The thin, brittle plastic arms had snapped on impact. The small, brushed motors had been ripped from their mounts. The main circuit board had a large crack across it. The drone was not designed to survive any kind of impact. This teardown demonstrated that the low price of the drone was achieved by using the cheapest, most fragile materials possible, with absolutely no engineering for durability.
The “Black Box” Analysis: Recovering Data After Total System Failure
The Flight Recorder of Your PC
When a system crashes, Windows often creates a “memory dump” file. This file is like the “black box” flight recorder from an airplane. It’s a snapshot of everything that was in the computer’s RAM at the moment of the crash. I was analyzing a PC that was suffering from random blue screens. By using a special tool to analyze the dump file, I was able to see the exact driver and the specific line of code that had caused the failure. This black box analysis is a powerful forensic tool.
This “Over-Volted” Motherboard Has Dozens of Blown Components. Let’s Count Them
The Cascade of Failures
This motherboard was accidentally connected to the wrong power supply, sending 24 volts into a system designed for 12. The result was a cascade of failures. I performed an autopsy, going over the board with a microscope. I counted them: three exploded capacitors, two visibly burnt voltage regulator chips, the main audio chip had a crater in it, and the ethernet controller was scorched. The over-voltage event had swept through the board like a fire, destroying dozens of low-voltage components in its path.
The “Flex-Gate” Failure: A Deep Dive into a Known Design Flaw
The Cable Designed to Fail
Certain MacBook Pro models had a notorious design flaw known as “Flex-gate.” The display’s ribbon cable was too short and was wrapped tightly around the hinge. After a few years of opening and closing the lid, the repeated stress would cause the delicate traces in the cable to break, resulting in a failed display. My autopsy of one of these machines clearly showed the frayed and severed cable right at the hinge point. It was a textbook example of a design flaw that creates a predictable, premature failure.
Could a “Fire-Retardant” Spray Have Saved This Device?
The Questionable Aftermarket Protection
I saw an ad for a spray that claimed to make electronics fire-retardant. I decided to test it. I took two identical, worthless circuit boards. I sprayed one with the “fire-retardant” spray. I then used a blowtorch on both. The unsprayed board quickly caught fire and was destroyed. The sprayed board did not catch fire, but the spray itself created a charred, bubbly mess that still destroyed all the components. The conclusion: while it might prevent a flame, it won’t save the electronics.
The “Shattered” Remnants of a Dropped Portable Hard Drive
The Jigsaw Puzzle of a Platter
A portable hard drive that has been dropped is a grim sight. I performed an autopsy on one to show why the data is often unrecoverable. I opened the drive in a clean environment. The read/write heads had crashed into the platters, scoring a deep scratch across the surface. More importantly, the platters themselves, which are made of glass or ceramic, had shattered into a thousand tiny, razor-sharp pieces. The data was not just corrupted; it was a pile of glittering dust. The chances of recovery were zero.
I Compared a “Real” vs. “Fake” SD Card After Both Failed
The Imposter in the Shell
I did an autopsy on a “failed” 1-terabyte SD card that a friend bought for a suspiciously low price. The real, brand-name card had a single, complex, high-density memory chip inside. The fake card was a completely different story. Inside was a tiny, low-quality 32-gigabyte memory chip. A special controller chip was programmed to lie to the computer, reporting its size as 1 terabyte. The moment you tried to save more than 32 gigabytes of data, it would fail. It was a fascinating piece of fraudulent engineering.
The “Cause of Death” Report for a Beloved Piece of Obsolete Tech
The Final Entry in the Logbook
After a forensic analysis of a truly unrepairable device, I like to write up a formal “Cause of Death” report. It will list the patient (e.g., “Commodore 64, 1982”). It will detail the external and internal signs of trauma. It will identify the specific, primary component failure (e.g., “Catastrophic failure of the PLA chip due to a shorted power supply”). And it will conclude with the final determination: “Cause of Death: Multiple Organ Failure due to Massive Electrical Trauma. Time of Death: 3:15 PM.”
How to “Harvest” Even from the Deadest of Devices
The Organ Donation
Even in the most catastrophically destroyed device, there are often salvageable parts for a determined scavenger. I was dissecting a laptop that had been run over by a car. The screen was gone, the motherboard was snapped. But the small, modular components, like the Wi-Fi card, the RAM sticks, and the SSD, were still physically intact and protected in their own areas. I harvested these “organs” before recycling the rest of the corpse. Even in death, a device can provide the parts to give life to another.
The “Lessons Learned” from a Device That is Beyond All Hope
The Education in the Failure
A device that is truly beyond repair is not a failure; it’s a lesson. A water-damaged phone teaches us about the importance of backups and waterproof cases. A power-surged PC teaches us the value of a good surge protector. A laptop with a broken hinge, caused by a poor design, teaches us what to look for when buying our next machine. Every dead device on my workbench is a silent teacher, providing a valuable education in what not to do and how to be a smarter owner of technology.
I Created a “Wall of Shame” with the Most Destroyed Components I’ve Found
The Museum of Carnage
On a shelf above my workbench is my “Wall of Shame.” It is a collection of the most spectacularly destroyed components I have ever encountered. There is a processor with a drill hole through it. There is a graphics card that has been snapped in half. There is a battery that has swollen to three times its normal size. It’s a rogues’ gallery of technological death. It serves as a humorous, if slightly grim, reminder of the many, many ways a piece of electronics can meet its end.
The “Slow-Motion” Video of a Screen Shattering, Analyzed
The Poetry of Destruction
I used a high-speed camera to film the moment a hammer strikes a phone screen. The slow-motion footage is a beautiful and violent physics lesson. You can see the impact point, the shockwave radiating outwards through the glass in a split second. You can see the formation of the initial, radical cracks, followed by a web of concentric cracks. You can see the tiny shards of glass exploding outwards. It’s a destructive ballet that reveals the hidden science behind a common, catastrophic failure.
What “Sound” Does a CPU Make When It Dies?
The Silent Death
I was performing a risky overclocking experiment, pushing a CPU to its absolute limit. I was expecting a dramatic “pop” or a fizzle when it finally died. The reality was much quieter. I was monitoring the temperatures and voltages, and at one point, the screen just went black. The computer shut off. There was no sound at all. The death of this incredibly complex, billion-transistor “brain” was completely and utterly silent. The catastrophic failure happened at a microscopic, inaudible level.
This “Acid-Damaged” PCB is a Work of Abstract Art
The Beauty of Destruction
I was given a circuit board that had been damaged by a leaking battery from a car. The sulfuric acid had eaten away the green solder mask, exposing the bare copper traces underneath. The acid then reacted with the copper, creating a beautiful, chaotic patina of bright blue and green copper sulfate crystals. The board was, of course, completely destroyed and useless. But as I looked at it under the microscope, I saw that the random, organic patterns of the corrosion had turned it into a stunning piece of accidental, abstract art.
The “Grief” of Losing a Device Full of Memories
The Digital Bereavement
When my first-ever laptop finally died, taking with it years of my early writing, music, and photos that I had failed to back up, the feeling was not one of annoyance. It was a genuine sense of grief. I had lost more than just a machine; I had lost a part of my own history. That device was a vessel for my memories, my creativity, and my youth. Its death was a powerful, painful lesson in the ephemeral nature of digital data and the profound emotional connection we can form with our technological companions.
I Wrote an “Obituary” for My Favorite Laptop
A Eulogy for a Faithful Companion
After ten years of faithful service, my beloved ThinkPad laptop finally died a death beyond repair. I decided to honor it by writing a short obituary. “It is with great sadness,” I wrote, “that we announce the passing of T420, serial number […]. It served dutifully through four years of college and six years of freelance work. It survived two drops, one coffee spill, and three battery replacements. It is survived by its power adapter and a collection of spare parts. It will be missed.” It was a silly but heartfelt tribute to a great tool.
The “One Survivor”: Finding a Single Usable Part in a Wreckage
The Hope in the Rubble
I was picking through the wreckage of a laptop that had been in a fire. The plastic was melted, the screen was gone, and the motherboard was a charred mess. It seemed like a total loss. But then I found the small, metal-cased solid-state drive (SSD). The heat had been intense, but the drive’s metal shell had protected the memory chips inside. I pulled it out, plugged it into another computer, and it worked. From the ashes of a complete disaster, I had rescued the single most important part: the user’s data.
The “Afterlife” of a Destroyed Device: Art, Jewelry, and spare parts
There is No Tech Heaven, Only a Good Parts Bin
A dead device is not the end. It’s the beginning of its “afterlife.” The beautiful, iridescent silicon die from a dead processor can be made into a pair of cufflinks. The intricate green and gold circuit board can be cut up to make unique jewelry. The powerful magnets from a hard drive can be used in other projects. And the still-functional components can be harvested and used to give life to another, similar device. In the world of repair, there is no death, only a constant cycle of reincarnation.