Linus on Old Tech He Still Uses: Great Products Let Down by Discontinuation

When "Outdated" Doesn't Mean "Useless"

During a casual Q&A session, tech media personality Linus was asked an interesting question: what's the worst piece of technology you're still using? His answer went beyond mere complaints — it opened up a genuinely thought-provoking topic: how much longer can well-designed hardware survive once it loses support due to discontinuation or corporate upheaval?

Linus mentioned that he still actively deploys a Wii U. Nintendo's console has long been superseded by newer products, but in his hands it's been repurposed as a media controller on his motorcycle. He admits the setup is "janky," but the key point is that it's still functional. That "rough-around-the-edges but it works" state is exactly what many tech enthusiasts experience with aging devices.

Community Power Extends a Device's Life

One particularly interesting detail Linus mentioned: the original brand owner of one product recently reacquired the brand and reactivated it. During the period when ownership was in limbo, it was community effort alone that allowed him to keep using the device — as a glove-friendly media controller mounted on his motorcycle.

This scenario highlights a pattern that repeats itself throughout consumer electronics: when official support dries up, user communities often step in to fill the void. Whether through third-party firmware, workarounds, or community-maintained tools, grassroots efforts frequently give hardware a second life that should have been over. For users who prioritize practicality, whether a device still works is sometimes more important than whether it's "officially supported."

"Software obsolescence" is a growing problem in consumer electronics — hardware remains perfectly intact, but devices are forced into retirement when operating system updates cease, cloud services shut down, or companion apps are pulled from stores. Unlike traditional physical wear and tear, this form of obsolescence can strike users suddenly and without warning. To counter this trend, some tech communities develop custom firmware to replace official systems. Notable examples include OpenWRT for routers, unofficial Home Assistant integrations for Harmony, and the Homebrew ecosystem on Nintendo consoles. The EU has already incorporated "repairability" and "minimum software update periods" into its product regulatory framework, requiring manufacturers to provide security updates for a set number of years after a product is discontinued — widely seen as a significant legislative attempt to curb software obsolescence. For consumers, assessing a product's "community activity" when making a purchase has gradually become a practical indicator of long-term usability.

Harmony Remote: A Textbook Case of Discontinuation Gone Wrong

When discussing the theme of "products that were great but got dragged down by discontinuation," Linus called out the Harmony remote. This line of once-celebrated universal remotes could centrally manage all the devices in a home theater setup.

To be fair, Logitech — which acquired Harmony — didn't actually kill the remotes' functionality outright. The hardware still works. But the problem lies in the management interface. Linus was blunt: the interface looks terrible, performs poorly, and is riddled with limitations and broken features. In other words, the hardware is still alive, but the software ecosystem sustaining it is slowly rotting away.

This is the most awkward position a discontinued product can be in: the manufacturer, out of some sense of responsibility, hasn't pulled the plug entirely, but also has no incentive to maintain or improve it. Users are stuck in a limbo where the device "works but doesn't work well" — unable to fully abandon hardware they've already invested in, yet unable to enjoy the smooth experience they deserve.

The Harmony remote was developed by Canadian company Intrigue Technologies and acquired by Logitech in 2004. Its core selling point was activity-based control: instead of juggling separate remotes for the TV, receiver, and set-top box, users could simply press "Watch a Movie" and the system would automatically power on all the relevant devices in sequence and switch to the correct inputs. This was enormously valuable as home theater setups grew increasingly complex. High-end models even supported RF and IP control, allowing them to operate devices hidden behind cabinet doors. Logitech officially announced the discontinuation of the entire Harmony product line in 2021, citing a market shift toward voice assistants and smart home platforms. But discontinuation didn't mean an immediate brick — Logitech committed to keeping cloud services running, preserving basic functionality. However, the device configuration relies on a cloud-based management application that has gone largely without updates, frequently running into compatibility issues on newer operating systems. Some advanced features have quietly disappeared as server infrastructure has been scaled back. This is precisely the core of Linus's criticism.

What Discontinued Products Leave Us to Think About

From the Wii U to the Harmony remote, what Linus shared points toward a much bigger question: in the era of rapid consumer electronics iteration, how long can the products we buy actually last? A manufacturer's post-sale commitments, the continuity of software updates, and the continuity of service after a brand changes hands have all become critical variables in a device's real-world lifespan.

For everyday users, this discussion offers at least two takeaways. First, a product's "death" is often not caused by hardware failure, but by the withdrawal of ecosystem support. Second, an active user community is a powerful force against this kind of software obsolescence. When shopping for durable tech products, beyond specs and brand names, it's worth asking whether there's a community out there willing to keep that device alive.

Beyond the constant chase for the newest thing, these carefully maintained older devices remind us of an alternative way to measure the value of technology — not how new it is, but how much it can still do for you.