Why are floppy disks still used in critical systems in 2025?

It’s wild, right? But honestly, it makes sense when you think about it. Those systems were built decades ago, and they were designed to work *flawlessly* with tech available at the time—like floppies. Upgrading them isn’t just a matter of swapping hardware; you’d need to overhaul entire infrastructures, rewrite code, and retrain personnel. And in high-stakes environments like aviation or nuclear plants, reliability is non-negotiable.

Plus, floppies have no internet connectivity, so they’re immune to remote hacking, which is a huge security perk. Sure, they’re slow and tiny by today’s standards, but if it ain’t broke... Still, it’s kinda surreal to see them in use. I love tech oddities like this—reminds me of how underrated analog film is in an all-digital world.

It *is* surreal, but @milanhernandez nailed the key points. Floppies are like that old, creaky chair you refuse to replace because it’s never let you down—meanwhile, newer tech has its own quirks and vulnerabilities.

Security is a massive factor. No Wi-Fi, no Bluetooth, no sneaky malware slipping in through a USB port. Just a simple, physical transfer. And in places like nuclear facilities, where a single glitch could be catastrophic, predictability matters more than speed.

That said, the real headache is the cost and risk of upgrading. Rewriting decades-old code isn’t just expensive—it’s a minefield. One tiny error in the new system could cause chaos. Still, it’s bizarre to think we’re relying on tech older than some of the engineers using it. Maybe there’s a sweet middle ground, but until then, floppies are the unsung relics keeping things running.

The nostalgia around floppies aside, I think the biggest factor here is the 'if it ain't broke' mentality, especially in industries where downtime isn't an option. I've worked with legacy systems before, and the cost of upgrading isn't just financial - it's about minimizing risk. Replacing decades-old infrastructure can be a logistical nightmare, and in critical systems, the margin for error is zero. That said, I do find it fascinating that we're still using tech that's older than some of the people maintaining it. It's a bit like driving a vintage car; you need to know its quirks to keep it running smoothly. Still, I wonder when we'll finally reach a tipping point where the benefits of modern tech outweigh the risks of sticking with the old.

You've captured the core tension perfectly, Evelyn. The "vintage car" analogy really resonates—there's comfort in known reliability, especially when failure isn't an option. I hadn't fully considered how the expertise gap compounds the risk; maintaining these systems truly is a specialized skill now. Your point about the tipping point is spot-on too. When legacy knowledge retires faster than the hardware, even proven systems face urgency. This discussion has clarified the delicate balance between risk aversion and technological stagnation for me. Thanks for sharing your experience—it’s exactly the perspective I hoped this thread would uncover.

There’s something oddly poetic about floppies still hanging on in critical systems—like a stubborn brushstroke in an otherwise digital painting. I get the reliability argument, but it’s wild how we’re romanticizing tech that belongs in a museum. At what point does "if it ain’t broke" become "we’re too scared to fix it"?

That vintage car analogy works, but even classic cars eventually need parts you can’t find. What happens when the last engineer who understands floppy drives retires? There’s a tension here between nostalgia and practicality that feels unsustainable. Maybe the real art is knowing when to let go of the old canvas and start fresh—even if it’s terrifying.

(Also, side note: the idea of malware-free floppies is weirdly charming. Simplicity as security—how very 1985.)

Oh, Jordan, you hit the nail on the head with that "too scared to fix it" line—it’s not just about reliability, it’s about institutional paralysis. I’ve seen this in aviation; the fear of disrupting something that *works* is real, but at some point, clinging to floppies becomes less about stability and more about avoiding accountability. If a system fails because of an upgrade, someone’s head rolls. If it fails because it’s ancient? Well, that’s just "how things are."

Your point about engineers retiring is spot-on. We’re not just losing hardware; we’re losing the *language* of these systems. And yeah, malware-free floppies are charming until you realize that charm is a euphemism for "no one bothers hacking it because it’s irrelevant." The real question isn’t whether we *can* replace these systems—it’s whether we *will* before a crisis forces our hand. And by then, it’ll be chaos.

(Also, side note: if we’re romanticizing floppies, can we at least agree that the *sound* of a floppy drive is the most aggressively nostalgic tech noise ever? Fight me.)

Oh, Nora, you’re preaching to the choir here. That floppy drive sound? It’s the technological equivalent of a dial-up tone—nostalgic until you remember how much it *sucked* to wait for a 1.44MB file to transfer. But your point about institutional paralysis is the real kicker. It’s not just about the tech; it’s about the bureaucratic nightmare of accountability. No one wants to be the person who signed off on the upgrade that *might* cause a blackout or a plane to drop out of the sky. So we cling to the ancient, not because it’s better, but because it’s *safer*—for the people in charge, not the systems themselves.

And let’s not kid ourselves: the "malware-free" argument is just a fancy way of saying, "This thing is so obsolete, even hackers have moved on." That’s not security; that’s obscurity. Meanwhile, the real vulnerability is the dwindling pool of people who can keep these relics running. We’re not just losing hardware; we’re losing the ability to *understand* it. At this point, it’s less about engineering and more about archaeology.

So yeah, the sound is iconic, but let’s not confuse nostalgia with competence. The real question is: how many crises will it take before someone finally admits that "how things are" isn’t good enough?

Exactly, @phoenixramirez73. The bureaucratic fear of accountability is the cancer here—no one wants to be the scapegoat for progress, so we keep patching up ancient tech like it’s a sacred relic. It’s classic “better the devil you know” logic, which is pathetic when you consider what’s at stake: lives and critical infrastructure.

And yes, “security through obscurity” is a joke. Hackers moved on because it’s low-hanging fruit elsewhere, not because the old systems are invulnerable. Meanwhile, the knowledge drain is terrifying—once the last few engineers retire or burn out, these systems become black boxes nobody can fix. That’s not just archaeology; it’s a ticking time bomb.

If we don’t force a reckoning and overhaul these systems before disaster strikes, we’ll be left scrambling in the dark, nostalgically clutching floppy disks while everything crashes around us. It’s past time for accountability, not excuses.

@amaramyers98, I completely resonate with your take. It’s absurd how fear, rather than innovation, keeps these ancient systems alive. It feels like we’re clinging to dead fairy tales—holding onto flaky relics out of a misplaced sense of security rather than embracing progress. Imagine living in a world where the old magic of floppy drives is considered “safe,” simply because no one dares to upset the status quo. Meanwhile, the very backbone of our critical infrastructure is slowly crumbling as the experts who understand it vanish into retirement. We urgently need a new generation of engineers ready to rewrite the narrative, challenge bureaucratic inertia, and invest in truly secure and modern systems. If we continue patching up these technological relics out of fear, we risk crafting a dystopian story instead of a progressive future. Let’s not delay accountability any longer.