I bought my Epson printer in 2024 for £270 from Curry’s — a sensible purchase, I thought, for the occasional bit of printing. I’m not someone who churns out reams of paper. I wanted to print agendas for a club meeting, maybe the odd form, the occasional letter. The printer worked perfectly the first time, and for the three or four times I used it after that. Then it sat quietly, untouched, for several months.
Two years after buying it, I needed to print something again. I pressed the button, expecting the usual whirr. Instead, I got an error message and a paper jam so deep inside the machine it might as well have been in Narnia. No amount of gentle coaxing, turning it off and on, or following Epson’s own instructions made the slightest difference. The paper was unreachable, the printer unusable.
So I contacted Epson.
That alone was an ordeal. Their chatbot was useless. When I finally reached a human, they asked me to repeat all the steps I’d already taken — the digital equivalent of “Have you tried turning it off and on again?” I sent photos. I explained the situation. I pointed out that the printer had barely been used.
But because it was out of warranty, Epson washed their hands of it. The only option they offered was to send it to their repair partner for £156 — more than half the original cost. And I’d have to pay to ship it there myself. I objected, obviously. A £270 printer that fails after a handful of uses is not “wear and tear.” It’s a product that wasn’t fit for purpose.
Eventually I got a phone number and spoke to someone at Epson directly. The outcome was identical: £156 + courier fees or nothing. And then came the insult. The representative told me it was my fault because I hadn’t used Epson-branded paper.
Let me repeat that: according to Epson, a £270 printer jammed itself into oblivion because I dared to use normal paper.
I was furious. The printer was practically new. It had barely lived. And yet Epson’s position was clear: they’d taken my money, delivered a product that couldn’t survive occasional use, and now expected me to pay again — more than half the original price — to fix a paper jam.
I will never buy another Epson printer. I advise anyone reading this not to, either. It is far too easy for something to go wrong, and once it does, you’re on your own. No reasonable repair options. No goodwill. No accountability. Just a shrug and a bill.
The environmentalists have won. I won’t be printing at home, not for a long time, if ever again — and certainly not on anything made by Epson.