Nobody actually uses the words “blah, blah, blah,” by the way. That would be silly. But not as silly as asking the Haggler to intervene when a warranty has expired. That is very silly. If you, dear consumer, agree that your TV — or computer or dishwasher or whatever — is covered for three years, please do not get in touch four years after the purchase.

A product is either covered or not. And if it has a lifetime warranty, it most likely is covered. Unless, for some strange reason, it’s not.

Q. The waterproof lining on the inside of a backpack made by a company called Eagle Creek became sticky. The company offers lifetime warranties on workmanship and materials — the bag was bought in 1999, and used once or twice a year — so I e-mailed and asked for a solution or a replacement.

A customer service rep wrote back to say I was out of luck because “this stickiness is a result of the breakdown of the fabric over time.” My backpack, the rep explained, had reached the end of its life. Put another way, it had died, and a dead backpack is no longer eligible for the protections of a lifetime warranty.

Huh? When I protested, I was told that I could mail the backpack to the warranty department and hope for a different answer. I did, but that department gave me the same response.

Care to give this a shot?

MARGARET JAHRLING

Redmond, Wash.

A. The Haggler has never thought about a lifetime warranty in such literal terms. But Eagle Creek’s logic makes its own insane sense. It could be summed up as: “Enjoy our lifetime warranty. Until your product dies. Then leave us alone.”

The tricky part of analogizing between humans and inanimate objects is that it’s far easier to tell when humans have expired. What constitutes a dead backpack? What if your backpack is just, you know, asleep? Or unconscious?

That Eagle Creek thinks the list of dead-backpack symptoms includes sticky linings seems a little — what’s the right word here? — fatalistic. It’s a bit like a doctor deciding that people are goners if they catch a cold. But here is what an Eagle Creek rep named Sadie Schroeder told Ms. Jahrling, in an e-mail:

“Our warranty protects against defect for the life of the product. Our warranty department has deemed that items that are breaking down due to age have reached the end of their life and will not be covered by warranty.”

In another e-mail, Ms. Schroeder said of the sticky lining malady, “There is no real cure for it.”

Anyone know the last rites for a backpack?

The Haggler read all this and detected the potential for a conflict of interest. Eagle Creek offers a lifetime warranty and then gets to decide when its products have flatlined, which saves the company money on resuscitation efforts.

So the Haggler wrote to the company, which is based in Carlsbad, Calif., and sells a wide variety of travel pillows, money belts and luggage, all with the adventure traveler in mind. In late August, the company president, Roger Spatz, agreed to chat on the phone.

“It’s not often that we have these issues,” he said, early in the conversation. “Situations like this are a very small percentage of the total.”

Understood, said the Haggler, eager to get to specifics.

What about a seven-year-old backpack with a rusted zipper and a bad case of dropsy?

“I don’t know,” Mr. Spatz said, after a pause. “If we’re going to get into a list, I’m not the person qualified to give you an answer.”

What about a 12-year-old rolling bag with a frayed pocket and a touch of gout?

“I don’t know what to tell you there,” he said. “We’d have to take a look at it and see.”

The Haggler was going to ask about a five-year-old tote with some torn mesh and a social disease, but it seemed pointless. Mr. Spatz noted that Ms. Jahrling was offered the chance to buy any Eagle Creek product at 50 percent off, and he underscored that the company worked diligently to please its customers.

That actually rings true. The Haggler finds little negative static about Eagle Creek on the Internet. We are most likely talking here about a rare and relatively isolated incident. But to his credit, Mr. Spatz grasped that errors were made in Ms. Jahrling’s case.

“What I object to most is that she was told. ‘If you want to send your bag to the warranty department, maybe they’ll give you a different answer,’ ” he said. “I will take this opportunity to make sure that we’re having proper conversations with our customers.”

He also hinted that Eagle Creek was willing to do more for Ms. Jahrling. “We’re going to go back and take care of this situation,” he said.

The Haggler ended that conversation heartened and anticipating an e-mail from Ms. Jahrling with some good news. But that was more than three weeks ago and as of Friday, no one from Eagle Creek had been in touch with her. Maybe the company isn’t quite as customer-
focused as it believes. Or maybe its phone and e-mail systems are currently in the hospital.

E-mail: haggler@nytimes.com. Keep it brief and family-friendly, include your hometown and go easy on the caps-lock key. Letters may be edited for clarity and length.

Article source: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/09/08/your-money/seeking-vital-signs-in-a-lifetime-warranty.html?partner=rss&emc=rss