30 symptoms · 32 codes
Start here. Each page says what to do in the next ten minutes, what usually causes it on this make, and what to check before anybody is called.
Every symptom we cover
Grouped by the appliance. Each one names only codes this maker actually publishes.
Something is clearly happening inside and the cabinet is still not cold. Two pieces of evidence settle most of what follows, and neither requires tools. The first is yours: a thermometer in each compartment, read twice sixty minutes apart. The second belongs to the appliance — the peak temperature it recorded behind its high-temperature alert, which appears once and is destroyed by a second press of clear. Together they separate an airflow problem from a defrost problem from the sealed system itself. Three unrelated appointments.
The most diagnostic complaint in refrigeration, and good news more often than not. One sealed system serves both compartments here and air is moved between them, so when only one side is wrong the refrigerant circuit is almost certainly fine and the problem is on the air path. That is the inexpensive half of everything that can go wrong with a refrigerator, and it is worth saying plainly before anybody starts worrying about compressors.
This maker's cabinets announce a warm cabinet rather than leaving you to discover it, and they sound once a minute until acknowledged. The detail almost nobody knows is the useful one: when you clear the alert, the display shows the highest temperature the cabinet actually reached. That single number answers the only question that matters after a power cut — whether the food is safe — and it is gone the second time you press clear.
Three ordinary sources, and where the water shows tells you which. Under the crisper drawers is the defrost drain. Behind or beneath the cabinet is the supply line to the dispenser and ice maker. Down the front of a door is condensation from a seal. In a fitted kitchen the order of urgency is different from a rental, because the water reaches joinery and flooring long before anybody sees a puddle on tile.
A no-frost cabinet that is building frost is telling you one of two things: moist air is getting in, or the defrost cycle is not completing. On a 33-inch column the geometry makes this worse than on a small box — the evaporator is tall, ice builds from the bottom upward, and by the time anything is visible on the top shelf there is a great deal of it out of sight behind the rear panel.
Most refrigerator noises are normal and a few are not, and the difference is usually when they happen rather than how loud they are. A counter-depth cabinet in a run of joinery also amplifies what it makes — the cabinetry acts as a sounding board — so a noise that would be unremarkable in a freestanding unit becomes the reason somebody calls. Telling us when the noise occurs narrows this faster than any description of the sound.
The drawer this maker calls TempAdapt runs from −6 °F to 45 °F, which is a wider span than any other compartment in the cabinet attempts, and it manages it with its own air path, its own damper and its own sensor. That independence is the whole diagnosis: this drawer can fail completely while the rest of the refrigerator is perfect, and that is an ordinary outcome rather than a contradiction somebody needs explaining away.
The only freezer this badge builds is a 19 cubic foot, 33-inch column designed to stand beside its refrigerator twin behind matching trim. That matters here because everything written about freezer repair online is about a chest in a garage, and none of it applies. The failures are a tall evaporator icing from the bottom, a heavy trim-paneled door losing its seal, and an air path through the joinery that silted up years ago.
This maker sells no standalone ice maker today, so what has stopped is either the module inside a French-door cabinet or the 15-inch under-counter unit from the built-in range that came before. Either way the first question is whether any water is arriving at all, because roughly half of these are a supply problem rather than a mechanism problem — and the supply half is the cheaper half.
This is a water problem almost every time, and it is worth knowing because it is the cheap one. The mold is filled by a valve that opens for a fixed time and then harvests on schedule whatever arrived. Restrict the supply anywhere along the chain — filter, shutoff, a line squeezed behind a built-in cabinet — and you get a short fill, a thin shell and cubes that look hollow because they are.
This maker has its own code for it — DI SP, sometimes shown as DISP — and publishes three causes, all of which are about a bin that stood still: light use, temperature swings, a power cut. Cubes part-thaw and refreeze into a single mass around the auger, and the auger then either cannot turn or shears a piece off into the chute. In a region with summer outages this is seasonal rather than occasional.
Both cabinets on this badge are 24-inch under-counter units with glass doors, and a glass door in a warm room is the entire thermal problem in one part. A cabinet that loses ground through the afternoon and recovers overnight is usually being beaten by the room and the installation rather than failing — flush into a bar run with no rear clearance and no front grille, it is re-breathing its own exhaust.
Two of this maker's three dishwasher codes are not problems at all, and both of them present exactly like a machine that will not start. A number between 1 and 24 counting down is the delay option. Hd or HO is the heat delay, waiting for the water to reach temperature. Between them they account for a real share of the no-start calls we take, and both are free to resolve from this page.
The maker publishes one code for this — i40, a clogged filter or sump — and names the glass trap specifically. A genuine share of these calls end at parts that lift out by hand with no tools. What makes it a repair rather than maintenance is water still standing with the filter removed, and that is a single test anybody can run.
Three free checks come before any part: something tall in the bottom rack fouling the arm above it, a filter that has filled up, and water turning up cold. Beyond those, the feature doing most of the work on these machines is SmartBoost — it premixes detergent with water before the first spray — and when it fails what people notice is not an error but poor results on short cycles, blamed on the detergent for months.
Plastics coming out wet is how these machines work and it is worth saying plainly rather than treating as a failure. They dry with residual heat rather than a blast of hot air, so glass and china give up their water and plastic does not. What is not normal is everything wet, or a machine that sits on Hd for half an hour and then washes cold.
This maker publishes three codes across this ground and two of them are installation problems rather than failures. E11 is a long fill; HO SE is the machine detecting for itself that the hot and cold hoses are crossed; E35 is the pressure sensor reporting overfill. If the machine was fitted or moved in the last month, the fix is very likely free and it is not ours to charge for.
E21 is the maker's code for a pump-out taking too long, and its own first answer is not a part: a kinked drain hose. In a laundry closet where the machine has been pushed back so the louvered door will shut, the machine has folded its own hose behind itself — and the symptom arrives weeks after an installation that was perfectly good on the day.
A front loader will refuse to spin a load it cannot balance rather than damage itself, so a machine that spins small loads perfectly and large ones not at all is behaving correctly and telling you about its suspension. The other frequent cause is not the spin at all: no confirmed door lock means no spin, and that presents identically from outside.
Two codes, two parts, one symptom. E41 means the control is not being told the door is closed; E42 means the lock will not confirm it engaged. From outside the machine they are indistinguishable and inside they are different components. The most common cause of both costs nothing: a corner of fabric caught in the seal doing an excellent impression of a closed door.
SU dS is the maker's code and the machine is handling the problem correctly — it rinses again, and again, until the foam has gone, adding about five minutes each time. This is the most common washer call we take that is not a repair at all. A front loader uses a fraction of the water a top loader does, so an ordinary dose of the wrong detergent oversuds every single time.
On an electric dryer this pattern says something specific before anybody opens the machine. The motor runs on 120 volts and the heating element needs both legs of 240, so a dryer that tumbles happily without heating is very often a supply problem rather than an appliance one. This maker publishes two codes that say exactly that — H2/B2 for the supply, H4/B4 for wiring — and both send you outside the appliance.
Airflow, nearly always, and it is worth acting on rather than living with. This maker publishes EF1 for a ventilation blockage and sends it to the installer rather than to service, which in a South Florida building is more reasonable than it sounds: the run goes up through a wall to a roof or a soffit, it is long, it has elbows, and the part that blocks is the end nobody can see. This is a fire risk before it is a repair.
That combination is the moisture sensor, and this maker publishes it as E 4 with unusually generous wording: the dryer keeps working and what you lose is the automatic programs. The sensor is a pair of metal strips inside the drum opening reading the resistance across damp fabric, and the commonest reason they stop reading is a film of fabric softener rather than a failed part.
Two free answers come before any of the expensive ones on this badge. Demo mode accepts every setting and counts down a preheat without heating at all, and it reaches kitchens on floor models and by an accidental button combination during setup. And F10 on the stone-baked pizza ovens is frequently the Pizza Shield in the wrong rack rather than anything wrong. Both are published by the maker and both cost somebody a call-out every year.
Five codes — F90 through F94 — describe one mechanism: the small motor and cam that bolt the oven shut for a clean cycle. Nearly every one of them arrives the morning after a self-clean, because that is the only occasion the latch is asked for everything it has. The maker's own route out is the UNLOCK key, and on these ovens the screen hands you a code to type back.
The igniter is working, so the problem is the gas or the port rather than the spark. On a sealed burner the usual pair is a clogged port or a cap that went back very slightly out of true after somebody cleaned the hob — and both are free to correct. If one burner lights and another does not, you have already done most of the diagnosis yourself.
Usually the cooktop protecting itself rather than failing, and two of the ordinary causes are free. Induction zones shut down on their own temperature, and the commonest reason they get hot is a blocked cooling path underneath — a drawer packed tight against the unit is enough. The other is a pan too warped to couple properly. Every glass cooking surface on this badge is induction; none of the general advice about radiant tops applies.
This is the clearest diagnostic split on any appliance in the kitchen: the low-voltage side is alive and the high-voltage side is not. Lights, turntable, fan and display all run on a control circuit that has nothing to do with cooking. It is also the one appliance on this site we ask people not to open at all — the high-voltage capacitor holds a charge that can kill long after the unit has been unplugged.
Not a defect, and saying so is the useful part. A front-load washer rated for six or eight cycles a week doing forty wears its pump, its door lock and its bearings at a proportional rate, so a machine that needs attention every few months in a building laundry is doing exactly what the arithmetic predicts. What changes the outcome is not a better machine — it is knowing which part goes first in that particular room and keeping one on a shelf.
Before anything expensive
A dash across a cooktop is the lock. LOC on a washer is the control lock. A number between one and twenty-four on a dishwasher is the delay start. Hd is the machine heating water. AD on a dryer is an automatic cycle. SB SB on a refrigerator is Sabbath mode.
All six look like a broken appliance from across the room and none of them is. They are on this site because a service call to be told so is a service call nobody should pay for.
And several point outside the machine
EF1 is the dryer vent. H4/B4 is the wiring at the outlet. H2/B2 is the supply reaching the building. E11 and HO SE are crossed washer hoses. The manufacturer sends all five back to whoever installed the machine or to the utility.
If that is what we find, we say so and charge for the diagnostic rather than fitting a part that was never the problem.
Before you book
Or start from the machine
If you already know which appliance and want everything about it in one place.
Six cabinets in the whole current line, and every French door among them is counter-depth — three of them, at 21 and 23 cubic feet. There is no standard-depth box here, no side-by-side and no top-freezer; the deep end of this line is a pair of 33-inch columns, one refrigerator and one freezer, sold with trim kits so they read as cabinetry. That is a refrigerator somebody drew into a plan, and it changes the work: the cabinet is tight in its surround, the water line runs where the joiner left it, and getting the unit out is half the visit before anything is diagnosed.
Two freezers in the line, and both of them are the same thing: a 33-inch, 19 cubic foot all-freezer column, built to stand beside the refrigerator column of the same size and be trimmed to match. There is no chest freezer here, no upright for a garage and no convertible box. A freezer on this badge is half of a wall of cabinetry, usually in a kitchen or a butler's pantry, and it is treated as joinery by everybody except the person who has to open it up. Practically, that means everything the refrigerator column needs — clearance, a clean air path, access — matters here twice over.
This make currently sells no standalone ice maker at all — zero cabinets in the live catalog. So this page is about the two ice makers we actually attend on this badge: the module inside the French-door cabinets, and the 15-inch under-counter unit from the earlier built-in line, which is still in plenty of South Florida bars and butler's pantries. Both are worth writing about honestly rather than implying a product line that has been discontinued. Ice is also the one part of a refrigerator that this make gives its own error code — DI SP, for a jam in the chute — and that code is the start of most of these calls.
Two cabinets, both 24 inches and both under a counter: a wine cooler with wide walnut-slat shelving, and a 5.1 cubic foot beverage center. There is no full-height wine column on this badge and there never was in this generation — anybody selling you one has a different make in mind. These live in a bar run or an island, behind a glass door, in a house where the ambient never really drops, and the calls follow from that geometry rather than from any weakness in the machine: losing ground through a hot afternoon, misted glass, and a fan that has become audible from the next room.
Two machines in the entire current line, both 24 inches, both stainless tub, and both carrying SmartBoost — the feature that premixes water and detergent before it reaches the dishes. Two models is not a thin line so much as a single machine in two door treatments, which is unusually simple to work on: what we open is nearly always the same platform, and the spares behind it are the group's, which run deep. This make publishes three dishwasher codes and two of them are not failures at all — a delay counting down and a heat delay waiting for water. The third, i40, is a filter.
Six machines, and every one of them is a front loader — 300, 400, 500, 600 and 700 Series plus a 24-inch compact. This make builds no top-load washer at all, which is the clearest single difference between this badge and the mass-market half of the same group. Laundry is the deep end of this line rather than an afterthought: 22 machines across washers, dryers and towers against six refrigerators. The maker publishes eight washer codes with real procedures behind them, and — worth knowing before you are quoted — three of those eight are installation problems rather than failures.
Eleven dryers — the largest single family in this maker's whole US line, bigger than every refrigerator, range and dishwasher it sells put together. Electric and gas at each of the 300, 400, 500, 600 and 700 Series, all at 8.0 cubic feet, plus a 24-inch compact at 4.0. Four more machines are laundry towers, where the washer and dryer are one unit. This badge also publishes a dryer error code guide, which its mass-market sister does not publish at all — seven rows, and three of them send you back to the installer rather than to a repair company.
Six ranges, at 30 and 36 inches, in three fuels: induction, dual-fuel and front-control gas. There is no electric coil range and no plain radiant range in this line at all — which is precisely the machine that fills the rental kitchens its sister badge sells into. A 36-inch range is a deliberate purchase and usually the center of the room, and that shows in how these calls come in: people describe what the range was doing when it stopped, not just that it stopped. Almost every published range code on this badge is a name plus a power cycle, so the honest page says that rather than inventing a checklist.
Worth saying
A microwave. The high-voltage capacitor holds a charge that can kill long after the unit has been unplugged, and there is no consumer-level check worth that risk. Filters, the damper and the door alignment are fine to look at. Everything behind the inner panel is ours.
Before you book
No. This maker publishes nothing at all for freezers, wine cabinets, ice makers, microwaves and the commercial line, so on those the behavior is the diagnosis. A page that invented a code table for them would be worse than useless.
Photograph the display first. A power cycle is often the right thing to do and it is always the thing that destroys the evidence, so do it in that order.
Worth writing down what it was doing and when. Intermittent behavior that clears on its own is still information, and on a control problem the timing matters more than the symptom.
In more detail
Every page here opens with what to do in the next ten minutes, before any theory. On this badge a real share of those ten minutes end the problem entirely: a delay start counting down, a control lock, demo mode, a drawer packed under an induction cooktop, a corner of a towel in a washer seal.
This maker documents codes on 7 of the 12 types this site covers and publishes nothing at all for the commercial line, freezer, ice maker, microwave, wine cooler. On those, the observable behavior is the whole diagnosis, and every page here names only codes this maker actually prints.
Clear the display before reading it. These cabinets keep the peak temperature behind a high-temperature alert and show it once; a second press deletes it. A photograph of the panel before the power goes off is worth more than any description of the noise.
What it is doing, when it started, and what the panel says if anything. That is usually enough to name the part before anybody is dispatched.
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