We use peripherals like keyboards and mice nearly every minute our PCs are awake, yet they seem to draw the short straw in terms of innovation. We’ve had a solid run with mechanical keyboards, where a vibrant community has pushed the industry from soldered, inaccessible boards to hot-swappable, endlessly customizable typing instruments. We’ve seen PC cases evolve with modularity and ease-of-access in mind. Yet, our pointing devices have been dead in the water for 15 years now. They're treated like disposable lighters when they inevitably fail, and the solution from manufacturers and customers alike is just a wasteful cycle of RMA requests and free replacements.

A replacement for your double-clicking Logitech might sound appealing, but destroying your old mouse and submitting evidence is usually part of the agreement as well. Within the warranty, there's zero cost to the consumer and zero hassle for the brand. This convenience often masks mountains of e-waste, as it's usually a cheap mechanical switch, a scroll wheel encoder that skips, or a battery that won't hold a charge, rather than the main sensor. Most of those are user-replaceable. Sure, I don't expect every mouse owner to perform electronic surgery, but for those of us who can wield a soldering iron, the repair is deliberately blocked. The parts should be available, just as they are for phones and laptops. For now, our only saving grace is a handful of specialist retailers stocking Omron switches and TTC encoders, but even with parts in hand, the mice themselves fight me at every step.

Mouse feet hiding screw holes

Counterbored ones, too

Let's start with the most infuriating and easily solvable design flaw in modern mice. Hiding the screws and holes for them under the stuck-on mouse feet creates unnecessary problems for customers trying to open up their mice for repairs, right from the start. Screws are almost always recessed into the mouse's shell, meaning they will never make contact with your mousepad. There is absolutely no functional reason to cover them with the very PTFE feet that provide the mouse's smooth glide.

Every time I've had to open a mouse, the first step is a delicate, nerve-wracking operation to peel off the skates without bending or deforming them. Yet, I fail spectacularly because they are designed as single-use consumables that don't go back on perfectly flat. The adhesive layer is designed for a single application, and once you lift a corner, the foot is never quite the same. It’s a guaranteed way to introduce a scratchy, uneven glide to your mouse, forcing you to buy aftermarket replacements. This baffling design choice serves only to deter or complicate repairs.

Brands could argue that a seamless underside looks great, but that's the side users look at the least. A few visible screw holes are not going to offend anyone's design sensibilities. The simple fix is to place the screw holes anywhere besides their current location under PTFE feet. If manufacturers remain change-averse, they also have a responsibility to sell first-party replacements directly to consumers, or at least make them reusable.

Ease of disassembly

For dust-free optical parts

With the rise of optical switches, the infamous double-clicking issue caused by metal leaf oxidation is becoming a thing of the past. That's a huge win for part longevity, but they also don't tolerate dust and debris well. Optical parts register input when a beam of light is broken by the depressed switch, and a single, well-placed speck of Cheetos dust can cause missed clicks or other erratic behavior. Yet, most modern mouse designs are fortresses, sealed shut with hidden clips and single-use feet.

Cleaning an optical switch should be as simple as opening the shell and hitting it with a puff of compressed air. Instead, it’s an ordeal. We need a move towards designs that prioritize maintenance. This just needs a switch to accessible Phillips-head screws and a snap-fit shell I can open at home with a plastic pry tool. When a mouse brand leverages an optical switch's several-million-click lifespan, they should back that promise with a design that permits basic maintenance needed to reach that milestone. It isn't a monumental change required in mouse design.

Hot-swappable switches and encoders

If keyboards can, mice should too

Everyone who cares about the peripherals they use ‌likely invested in the post-pandemic resurgence of mechanical keyboards. In those devices, hot-swap sockets have revolutionized personalization and user-repairability, allowing me to avoid reaching for a soldering iron. There is no good reason this same philosophy isn't applicable to mouse switches. The three pins on a mouse switch could easily slot into sockets soldered onto the PCB, just like Kailh or Millmax sockets on a keyboard.

But that makes the switches unstable, you could say, and a wobbly switch would feel cheap and imprecise. I understand, but this is easily solvable when mouse makers have access to all the resources needed to fabricate custom PCBs and parts for their products. Encoders already utilize long, bendable metal legs that wrap around the PCB for a firm grip, and a similar design may work for mouse switches. Alternatively, the mouse's shell could be designed with tighter tolerances to brace the switch and prevent any wobble. Imagine being able to swap out your clicky Omron switches for lighter, quieter Kailh Silents in minutes, without ever heating up a soldering iron. It would open up a new dimension of customization and significantly extend the service life of a mouse.

User-replaceable batteries and cables

Because, why not?

Wireless mice are even more egregious. Batteries are consumable components with a finite number of charge cycles. Yet, manufacturers continue to solder them directly to the PCB. When the battery inevitably degrades, you're expected to throw away a perfectly functional, expensive peripheral. This is wasteful and actively user-hostile. A simple JST connector offers a standardized, foolproof, and cheap solution. Users can easily disconnect it and replace just the faulty batteries on their unit in seconds. It'd also need brands to sell replacement batteries over the counter.

Furthermore, brands should make an effort to use standard-sized LiPo battery packs. This would allow users to easily find third-party replacements, even if the original manufacturer doesn't bother to stock them. The same logic applies to wired mice. Permanently attached cables that fray or shed their sheathing should be replaced with detachable ones. Buyers shouldn't have to learn how to re-sleeve a cable in paracord just because the manufacturer chose a flimsy design that reduces drag.

RMAs for simple fixes are wasteful

Just sell us the parts

Mice live a hard life. They are in constant contact with the oils and friction from our skin, and their primary components are subjected to millions of clicks and scrolls. Soft-touch coatings peel, rubber grips wear smooth, and switches fail. It's just regular wear, but that doesn't mean brands insist you smash your mouse to bits. If mice were repairable, companies would have fewer RMA claims to handle and wouldn't need to insult the buyer's integrity and the environment in the process.

Following the lead of Framework laptops or the ethos of repair advocates like Louis Rossmann, mouse OEMs should sell replacement parts directly to consumers. Replacement shells, scroll wheels, encoders, cables, wireless dongles, and PCBs should all be available. This would be particularly valuable for flagship mice. If I'm paying over $100 for a premium mouse, I should have the option to buy a new top shell for $20 when the soft-touch coating wears off in a year.

Mice are not consumables

For too long, we’ve been conditioned to see computer mice as consumables—a casualty of intense gaming sessions or a long work week that needs to be replaced every few years. This mindset is a product of design choices that prioritize aesthetics and marginal performance gains over longevity and repairability. The industry has chased lighter weights, higher DPIs, and faster polling rates, all while ignoring the fundamentals of building a sustainable, long-lasting product.

Making mice more repairable isn't about forcing every user to become an electronics technician. It's about providing options. It's about respecting the customer's investment and their right to repair the products they own. Small changes to the product can build a loyal customer base, given how crucial mice remain for human-computer interaction.