America is one big subscription service

We used to own things, but now we subscribe to them instead.

Oct 22, 2025

We used to own things. Music, DVDs, video games, printed media, software.

A vivid memory that I hold close to the heart is begging my mom to drive me to the record store to buy the latest release from my favorite bands. With purchase in hand, I’d climb into the back seat and rip open the cellophane, smoothing my palm across the pristine plastic case before lifting the cassette free.

The music was etched into that thin ribbon of tape. I could see it through the clear shell. It was tangible proof of sound and there was even a distinct smell to the whole ritual of opening a new cassette. A combination of ink and plastic, but with a faint sweetness of something more organic. It’s a smell I can’t describe. Music was so much more visceral to all the senses back then.

On the ride home I’d put my headphones on and let the music flood my ears, head out the window, watching the world pass by with a new soundtrack.

These days, I look at my own kid in the backseat gazing out the window with her earbuds in and Spotify on her phone. I’m reminded of my teenage self, so I wonder if this is just nostalgia beckoning whenever I think that we had it so much better as music fans. Physical product aside, is the experience that much different?

Maybe I rhapsodize too much (understatement!), but we used to own things and now we subscribe to them instead. Those cassettes and CDs with their liner notes were ours. We paid for music the way we paid for anything else we owned. Now, everything is paywalled in monthly payments and locked into an endless cycle of renewals and access tiers.

I was thinking about this the other day when I was informed that Adobe Creative Cloud is now a whopping $70 a month. For the few freelance projects that I still take on, I need that software and others like it for my livelihood, but the price no longer makes financial sense for the little income that I now make, even with a tax write-off.

Years ago, we used to buy software outright too. We’d get it shipped in the mail, CDs nestled in slick packaging that we’d place on our shelves like books until we made the decision to upgrade. But sometime in the 2000s, the model for a subscription economy took root and corporations grew lusty with the idea of predictable recurring revenue. Netflix in 2007. Adobe in 2013. Apple music in 2015. There was no turning back.

We were retrained to value flexibility, access, and convenience over ownership. Anything that could be reimagined as a subscription service, was: clothing rentals, meal kits, data storage, video games, memberships for spaces, news and media, verified social accounts, the list goes on. Now, free trials and buy-now-pay-later deals hook us in. We’re sold gadgets that don’t fully work without a subscription. Products lock us into brand ecosystems, designed for use exclusively with brand-specific refills and in-product purchases.

I mean, that’s really what it’s all about, isn't it? Reliable forecasting for companies to show growth to shareholders. We are never going back to ownership of services or media. Our data is a new form of payment. What’s insidious about our current subscription society is the marketing of an illusion of infinite choice and flexibility. While there are benefits, monopolies offer few alternatives and companies maintain a stronghold over its consumers; we’re at the mercy of regular and frequent price increases.

Perhaps the most insidious of subscription plans in America is health insurance. Fall is open enrollment for health plans, and this year in particular has been fraught with anxiety over exorbitant premium hikes due to the threat to ACA subsidies and Medicare cuts. The health insurance subreddit might be the most depressing place on the internet right now.

So what are we left with? What value are we getting in return for bearing the brunt of companies’ carrying costs? We keep paying more for the same services we enjoy and need, but often with depreciated benefits. Streaming media was an escape from ads on cable T.V., but we’re back to where we started: ads, unless we’re willing to pay to make them disappear.

In 2016, the World Economic Forum published an essay by Ida Auken, a Danish member of parliament who imagined a future scenario in 2030 where she doesn’t own a house, a car, appliances, or even clothes. All products would be replaced by a sharing economy and a service-based consumption model where everything is rented, shared, or subscribed to.

Less a prediction than a provocative think piece, the phrase “you’ll own nothing, and be happy” circulated widely online, but with considerable backlash.

We’re less than five years away from 2030 and that prophecy isn’t reality, but the subscription economy has expanded to the point where we can image this future as a possibility. Look, we would all be better off with less stuff—we can all agree to that. I look at the stacks of CDs and DVDs that I still own, beloved when I bought them but untouched for a decade or more, and I’m reminded that I still need to find a place to unload them.

But this goes beyond just “stuff.” It’s not really about anti-consumerism or less materialism. Because if we don’t own anything, who does? A world that shifts ownership to access implies centralized systems where all of our lives are tracked and we become dependent on the ruling class who own these systems. Populists vs. the oligarchs.

So maybe the better question to ask is this: as basic needs of housing and healthcare become more expensive and even unattainable to some, are we resigning ourselves to accept that we will own nothing? Home ownership is the tenet of the American Dream—is the dream dead?

Somehow, it always comes down to late-stage capitalism. An ever widening wealth gap and tiered access for those who can pay. Free, basic, premium. We see it every time we purchase a health plan or airline tickets. Wealth = a premium account; paid memberships = a gated, paywalled community.

No wonder we have subscription fatigue. Infinite choice is not always better, it’s a cognitive drain.

How much convenience are you willing to trade for dependence?
How much discomfort could you sacrifice in exchange for more autonomy and control?

And one last note on subscriptions: I would be amiss if I didn’t mention the very obvious—that this newsletter is a subscription and one in which some of you pay for (my gratitude is yours. Weekly newsletters will always be free, but some may be paywalled later). I don’t know how sustainable the Substack model of individual subscriptions is and I’m not naive to think it’ll last, but I learned something interesting recently: centuries ago, readers of serial novels and newspapers paid a subscription to fund new work in advance. The subscription model had earlier origins than we might have realized.

If we remind ourselves that a subscription is a way to support a creator we value, it might feel less transactional and more human. Community is something we build, not something to subscribe to.

A roundup of links & recs

To read:

America Needs a Mass Movement—NOW (The Atlantic)
It’s a question that’s on the minds of many. Other people in other countries have done it, but why aren’t we seeing an uprising here?
“Bullies who go unresisted keep on dominating. Submission becomes a habit too.”
Proof That Diane Keaton Was an Unparalleled Style Original (W Magazine)
She was such a style icon who became even more stylish with age. The all-white ensembles, the gingham, the plaid, and the hats!
Why the Right Can’t Stand the “No Kings” Aesthetic. The growing movement’s visual language includes protest art and costumes that subvert President Trump’s patriotic iconography. (Hyperallergic)
Protests are always a visual feast—and now we can add a joyful menagerie of inflatable costumes to the mix.
Long Covid Is Real — And It’s Changing an Entire Generation. Hundreds of thousands of kids in America are struggling with an illness that many doctors and schools refuse to recognize. (Rolling Stone)
We’re so eager to leave the Covid years behind that we forget many have been suffering from long Covid for years. I can imagine how frustrating it is that skeptics—even doctors—refuse to believe that the symptoms are real.
Ireland’s basic income scheme for artists points at how governments could help sectors in crisis (The Conversation)
A pilot scheme started in 2022 that gave artists a weekly stipend is now permanent. I increasingly believe that some kind of universal basic income will be needed to mitigate a future where jobs will be eliminated by AI. See: Amazon aims to eliminate 600,000 US workers with robots.
In a changing Arctic, how much noise is too much? Alaska’s bowhead whales can hear the climate changing. Scientists are listening in, too. (High Country News)
Increasing noise pollution affects animals’ ability to communicate. I never thought about how a soundscape might change in a warming Arctic.
Two Days Talking to People Looking for Jobs at ICE (N+1)
Writer, Yanis Varoufuckice, attends a job fair for the Department of Homeland Security. Who are the Americans who are applying for jobs to be ICE agents? Also, ICE is now in NYC.

An exhibition worth seeing if you’re in NYC:

Chiharu Shiota: Two Home Countries (Japan Society through January 11, 2026)
I’ve written about my admiration for artist, Chiharu Shiota, before. Earlier this summer, I went to Boston to see her largest US show to date. “Two Home Countries” is her first NYC solo show held at the Japan Society. Like much of her previous work, the site-specific installation deals with themes of memory, loss, displacement, and identity. A second room holds an exhibit called “Cell” in which drawings and sculptural artworks reflect her diagnosis and treatment of ovarian cancer.
Me, walking through the exhibit. It occurred to me that visitors become moving parts of the artwork, much like the suspended memorabilia woven through the red threads.

To make and eat:

Classic Mentaiko Pasta (Just One Cookbook)
I’ve always been curious to try the Japanese dish, Mentaiko, which is a pasta with roe in a buttery cream sauce. Pollock roe, which are sacs of fish eggs and can be found in Korean or Japanese grocery stores, was a staple on our dinner table growing up. I recently ordered it at a restaurant here in NYC and was inspired to make it at home. This restaurant version below at Sozai incorporates a little spice and is topped with crispy bacon.