I couldn’t fix it with iFixit’s AI FixBot

My classic Sony CRT television won’t power on. My living room is chilly because my Mitsubishi heat pump isn’t putting out enough hot air. I want my Japanese N64 to play US games, too, but I’ve been too busy to pop the hood. What if I had an AI companion to talk me through?

iFixit just released a voice-and-text chatbot to do just that, one that can supposedly help you figure out repairs just by talking to it — FixBot will ask you questions, and you can share images, too. iFixit claims it “thinks out loud with you, the way a master technician would, until the diagnosis clicks into place.”

Having tried it, I would definitely not trust iFixit’s FixBot to guide amateurs like me through a pricey or dangerous repair, and the app needs work, too!

You can chat with it live, and it usually listens well, but there’s so little visual feedback I can’t tell if the AI is busy thinking or completely errored out. I can’t just point my camera and expect the bot to see what needs repair: that requires a distinct photo, and sometimes the photo button failed. I could also only upload those photos while talking, not typing, due to a bug with Samsung phones. (There, iFixit’s attachment button told me it would only accept PDFs.)

Let’s start with the easiest repair, the Nintendo 64, because it illustrates FixBot’s strengths and weaknesses. In this case, iFixit already has a specific guide to region-unlocking the N64, and I just wanted a confidence boost on how to open and close the console. I started chatting with text, and basically just got a readout of iFixit’s existing guide: pop out the memory Expansion Pak (or jumper), and remove six GameBit screws.

Activating FixBot’s voice mode, I found it kind of nice to just talk to my phone, getting reassuring voice prompts like, “You’re halfway there—you’ve got three more screws to remove from the bottom before the top cover can come off. Keep it up!”

What wasn’t so reassuring: the sudden clatter when the N64’s two front feet popped out and hit the ground. Even though iFixit’s written guide says to remove them before flipping the console and removing the top lid, FixBot didn’t offer the same warning. iFixit CEO Kyle Wiens tells me it won’t always be that way: In a few months, he says, FixBot will walk you step by step through iFixit’s full guides.

How much should I tighten the screws when reassembling? “There’s no specific torque value; just tighten the screws until they’re snug, and you feel resistance. Don’t overtighten to avoid stripping the plastic threads,” FixBot told me when I asked, and that sounds like good advice.

But when it was time to close up the N64 again, it didn’t close right, and FixBot barked up the wrong tree for a while. It suggested I make sure the new adapter was fully seated (it was), and that the N64’s feet hadn’t somehow gotten sandwiched inside. Before I could protest or show a photo of the problem, the app informed me that I only had 15 minutes of free FixBot Voice per day and that my time had expired. (Wiens tells me he’ll raise the limits immediately, at least until his $4.99-a-month paid plan arrives. ) After this story was published, Wiens told The Verge, “We’re going to add an Alpha label to voice mode. It is an early feature and we should have labeled it that way in our announcement.” The label should be added by the end of the day.

Texting with the bot instead, it suggested that the N64’s power or reset buttons or their springs might have fallen out of place or shifted out of their track (they hadn’t). I quickly found the actual reason, but it took one more back-and-forth before FixBot finally suggested what even Google Gemini told me the very first time I asked: you need to line up the plastic power button’s guide with the power switch on the motherboard while you lower the lid.

That was an easy repair where iFixit already has a guide. What about a more difficult and dangerous one? I recently lucked out in inheriting one of the most sought-after classic gaming TVs, a Sony PVM, from a local retro gaming club. When I brought it home, I found it wouldn’t power on unless I nudged the power cord. What did FixBot have to say about that?

At first, FixBot seemed to be asking the right questions and giving the right warnings. “CRT monitors have specific hazards, so before opening it, we need the exact model number, which is usually found on a sticker on the back. While you check for that, can you tell me if the power light is completely off, or if it’s blinking?” it asked. “We need to be very careful here,” it explained later.

But then, it suggested that I should “discharge the anode before opening the case,” which is impossible because the anode is inside the case. It also suggested I should poke my discharge tool “under the edge of the rubber anode cap,” a bad idea for an amateur partly because that procedure is dangerous and partly because this style of PVM glues the caps in place. You can easily break them, a CRT expert tells me; it’s better to unplug these monitors and let them self-discharge for a long time instead.

To be fair, I had a second conversation with FixBot after the company uploaded the TV’s factory service manual for me, and that time it suggested self-discharge. “Because this is a high-voltage device, please ensure the monitor is unplugged and has been sitting for a while before opening the case,” it wrote, warning that CRTs can carry a lethal amount of charge.

But after that, the FixBot suggested that I should remove the TV’s main circuit board and reflow the solder joints to the TV’s power circuitry — even though the main board on this unit does not contain that power circuitry, and even though the reason my screen isn’t powering on is because the power cord itself is broken.

FixBot didn’t even ask me to check the power cord until I suggested the cord was problematic; it assumed I should jump straight to disassembling huge chunks of the TV to pull the wrong circuit board out. Even after I agreed to replace the cord, its “Recommended Action” was to find the board, inspect the solder joints for the power connector, and re-melt the solder in hopes of making them more secure.

“I thought you wanted me to replace the cord,” I asked. FixBot’s reply: “It sounds like the cord might be part of the issue, but those cracked solder joints are often the root cause.” The bot suggested I might as well resolder perfectly good solder joints while I was in there, since I’d already opened the TV up.

While that may sound like a rough experience, I did get something out of it: I’d never heard of adhesive-lined heat shrink before, and I ordered some to help me repair the TV’s cord. FixBot also helped me with my Mitsubishi heat pump, in that it reminded me I really need to clean its filters more often. It provided a long list of ideas including that one.

But so did other chatbots, ones that aren’t cosplaying as a repair expert, when I asked them the same question. Before I told FixBot that cleaning the filters had seemingly restored my heat, I followed its other advice instead: I provided the exact model name of my heat pump and truthfully told it that the heat pump’s main status light was green.

FixBot leapt down a rabbit hole of potential problems before concluding that I should call an HVAC technician instead because the issue “has moved beyond user-serviceable parts,” without ever checking if I’d actually cleaned my filters.

When I ask iFixit’s CEO about the rough experience, and whether FixBot should really let users think they can repair dangerous TVs while keeping HVAC off-limits, he explains that LLMs can only parse what they see. In this case, they probably saw a TV factory service manual written for skilled technicians who would’ve already diagnosed something as simple as a broken power cord, and an HVAC manual that probably suggested calling a technician. In each case, the LLM roleplayed accordingly.

“When we write troubleshooting procedures on iFixit, we start with the power cable and work all the way through,” says Wiens. “But we are not writing service manuals for CRTs,” he says, adding later that “I don’t know if it’s reasonable for us to expect that for 30-year-old legacy technology.”

I agree, but then why let me attempt that repair? Should it really rely on roleplay when iFixit’s guides aren’t available? We spend a while debating without seeing eye to eye. “The broad goal is you want this to be able to fix everything out there,” he says, suggesting that FixBot is the solution. But: “I think that we have a responsibility to do better with FixBot on certain dangerous technologies like CRTs and microwaves.”

I appreciate iFixit’s right-to-repair efforts, its guides, and its quality tools, but the FixBot doesn’t feel like one of them just yet. I hope it works better for you! Wiens says FixBot has already assisted on 15,000 successful repairs in beta, and that he plans to keep making it better.

Updated on December 10 to reflect that, following the publication of this story, iFixit’s CEO Kyle Wiens reached out to note the company will add an “alpha” label to FixBot’s voice mode by the end of the day.