If you’ve felt lately that your belongings are less owned and more… on loan from a mildly tyrannical landlord, you’re not imagining it. We are living in the era where even the humblest device—your coffee maker, your vacuum, maybe soon your doormat—wants a monthly fee. What began as a clever innovation for software has metastasized into the physical world, turning ownership into a vibe, not a fact. The future isn’t pay-to-play; it’s pay-to-plug-in.
Take cars. Tesla may have popularized the idea that heated seats should sit behind a velvet rope, but now even non-electric models want in on the action. Want better acceleration? That’ll be $9.99 a month. Want to turn left? Who knows—eventually that might be premium. Manufacturers swear subscriptions keep costs low, but when your dashboard looks like a streaming-service menu, something has gone cosmically wrong. It’s not a car; it’s an iPhone with wheels and boundary issues.
But the real betrayal is happening in the kitchen. Toasters with locked “artisan mode,” blenders that refuse to spin unless you're verified and current, coffee machines that demand a subscription to dispense hot water—this is the domestic dystopia we were promised in Black Mirror, not in a Bed Bath & Beyond aisle. There’s a certain audacity in making breakfast contingent on your billing cycle.
Even the ‘smart home’—a phrase increasingly sounding like an insult—is in on it. Your vacuum now wants a subscription to map your house, your air purifier wants one to breathe correctly, and your fridge—your fridge—wants to charge you to compare prices on milk. Think about that: you're paying to help your refrigerator shop. At this point, the only thing in your home not demanding monthly tribute is your houseplant. And give it time.
Companies argue that subscriptions allow for “continuous improvement.” But that improvement often looks suspiciously like the manufacturer holding half the features hostage. The device you bought is fully capable; it’s simply choosing not to participate unless you feed it money. This is less innovation and more emotional manipulation—gaslighting by gadget.
It’s also a shift in philosophy: ownership used to be a straightforward contract. You bought something, and it worked until it broke or you broke it. Now, owning a device is like dating someone who keeps reminding you they could leave at any moment if your credit card expires. Products have commitment issues, and it’s exhausting.
The psychological toll is real. Who wants to remember which subscriptions make their vacuum function vs. which ones keep their car warm vs. which ones simply stop their doorbell from behaving like a decorative button? Household management has become a second job you didn’t apply for.
And yet—here we are, paying for features we never asked to un-own. Because companies know something: once convenience hooks you, you’ll tolerate the absurdity. You’ll grumble, you’ll tweet, you’ll sigh dramatically… but you’ll still subscribe. Your appliances aren’t becoming smarter—they’re becoming landlords.
So maybe the real subscription we need is one that lets us actually own our stuff again. Until then, expect your next purchase to come with a friendly little message: “Thanks for buying! Your product includes 2 free weeks of being useful. After that, please choose a plan.”