Evaluating Subscription Models in the New Age of Internet
Netflix quietly deleted a suicide scene from "13 Reasons Why" two years after release. Just... deleted it. From everyone's access. Everywhere. And that's when it hit me - we've traded ownership for convenience, and nobody asked if we were okay with that deal.
The Great Digital Bait and Switch
We used to buy things. Music. Movies. Games. Now we subscribe to the possibility of accessing them, assuming the platform feels like keeping them available, hasn't lost the license, hasn't decided to edit them, and hasn't gone bankrupt.
Remember when everyone panicked about not owning physical media? Turns out we were worried about the wrong thing. At least with a DVD, you owned the plastic. Sure, technically you only had a "license to view" the content, but good luck enforcing that when the disc is in my living room.
Now? The disc is in Jeff Bezos's living room, and he changes what's on it whenever he wants.
The Three-Player Shell Game
Here's the cast of characters in this digital tragedy:
The Creator: Makes content, sells rights for pennies on the dollar because distribution is king.
The Distributor: Netflix, Spotify, Amazon. The real customers. They buy content, rent it to us, call themselves "platforms" like they're doing us a favor.
The Consumer: That's us. We're not customers anymore - we're subscribers. Recurring revenue streams. Monthly autopay cattle.
The creator serves the distributor. The distributor serves the shareholder. The consumer serves... what exactly? Our role is to pay monthly and shut up.
The Ownership Illusion
"But you never really owned content anyway! Even DVDs were just licenses!"
Cool technicality, bro. But there's a difference between theoretical ownership and practical control. My DVD can't be remotely edited. My book can't be updated to remove problematic chapters. My CD can't decide it doesn't like track 7 anymore.
Physical media was a license with teeth. Digital subscriptions are suggestions with monthly fees.
The Edit Wars
When Netflix removed that scene, they didn't ask subscribers. When Spotify removes songs over licensing disputes, they don't poll premium users. When Disney+ adds disclaimers to old movies, they don't check with account holders.
We're not customers with preferences. We're viewers of whatever version they decide we should see today.
Tomorrow? Who knows. Maybe they'll deepfake new endings. Maybe they'll add product placements retroactively. Maybe they'll decide certain episodes "aren't aligned with current values" and memory-hole them entirely.
The Real Customer Paradox
Here's the dirty secret: we're not the customers. We never were.
The real customers are the platforms buying content rights. We're the product being delivered - engaged eyeballs, recurring revenue, data points for recommendation algorithms.
When Netflix negotiates with studios, they're the customer. When we "negotiate" with Netflix, we're begging for features on Twitter. See the difference?
The Perpetual Rental Economy
We've normalized paying forever for things we used to buy once:
- Music: $10/month forever vs $15 album once
- Movies: $15/month forever vs $20 DVD once
- Software: $50/month forever vs $200 license once
- Games: $20/month forever vs $60 game once
"But you get access to everything!" Do you? Do you really? Or do you get access to whatever's available this month, in whatever form they've decided is appropriate?
The Creator's Dilemma
Creators are stuck in the middle. They can:
- Sell to platforms and lose control but gain reach
- Self-distribute and keep control but lose discoverability
- Try both and watch platforms undercut their direct sales
Most choose option 1 because rent needs paying. Platforms know this. That's why creator payouts keep shrinking while subscription prices keep rising.
The 2024 Reality Check
We're paying more for less control than ever before:
- Content disappears without warning
- Prices increase without added value
- Quality degrades (hello, Netflix password sharing crackdown)
- Availability varies by region (VPNs are now necessary for content we're paying for)
But we keep paying because what's the alternative? Piracy? Most of us aren't pirates. We just want reasonable access to content we pay for.
The Path Forward (If There Is One)
Some uncomfortable solutions:
- Support direct creator sales - Buy from artists, not platforms
- Demand downloadable options - If I'm paying, let me keep a copy
- Diversify your media - Don't let one platform hold all your favorites
- Accept higher prices for ownership - Maybe owning should cost more than renting
Or just accept we're digital serfs in the streaming age, paying monthly tributes to our platform overlords for the privilege of accessing culture we'll never own.
The Philosophical Finish
We traded ownership for convenience and got neither. We have the inconvenience of monthly bills, regional restrictions, and disappearing content. Platforms have the convenience of changing terms whenever they want.
The "13 Reasons Why" edit wasn't just about one scene. It was about who controls culture in the digital age. And spoiler alert: it's not the people paying for it.
But hey, at least we don't have to store physical media anymore. That's worth surrendering cultural control over, right?
Right?
[This post will be deleted if our platform overlords demand it. You have been warned.]