Remember the times when you bought something and it became yours? This archaic concept is gradually disappearing, like dinosaurs under the meteor shower of a new type of capitalism. We have entered an era where we no longer own anything—we just pay for temporary access to things we used to call our own. Welcome to the subscription economy—a brilliant dystopia where property has become a luxury, and monthly payments our eternal curse.
The new economic order has imperceptibly transformed us from proud owners into lifelong renters of the digital age. We no longer need to worry about owning anything—corporations have generously relieved us of this burden, offering instead endless rentals with endless payments. How nice of them, isn't it?
From Ownership to Dependence: The Story of the Great Substitution
It all started innocently. Streaming services offered an alternative to collecting physical media—why store hundreds of DVDs when you can access thousands of movies by subscription? Convenience defeated ownership. We willingly exchanged CD libraries for Spotify and Tidal, movie collections for Netflix and HBO. The first step into the trap was taken to applause.
Then software followed. Adobe transitioned from selling Photoshop to Creative Cloud. Microsoft transformed Office into Microsoft 365. Suddenly, programs that you used to buy once and use for years required monthly tribute. OK, Boomer, forget that you once owned your work tools—now you rent them from digital feudal lords.
And then this model, like metastases, spread to everything: cars by subscription, furniture by subscription, clothes by subscription. In Sweden, there are already apartments with furniture by subscription. You literally pay for the right to sit on a couch that will never be yours. Brave new world, indeed!
Corporate Capture: Why Companies Are Obsessed With Subscriptions
Let's be honest—it's not about the user experience. Corporations fell in love with the subscription model because of predictable income. Wall Street adores recurring payments. "Sustainable cash flows" is music to investors' ears. And what could be more sustainable than millions of consumers connected to a corporate milking machine with automatic deductions every month?
The genius of this scheme is that companies now sell you the same product an infinite number of times. Before, you bought an album for $15 and listened to it for years. Now you pay $10 monthly for life for access to the same album. Calculate how many times you'll overpay for those same 15 bucks over ten years. Do you hear that sound? It's Spotify shareholders laughing, counting their profits.
The subscription model also allows companies to change the rules of the game on the fly. Updates you didn't ask for? Here they are. Features you liked suddenly disappeared? Sorry. You thought your "unlimited" subscription would remain truly unlimited? Naive romantic! Terms can change unilaterally, and your only choice is to accept them or lose access to everything you've been creating on the platform for years.
The Illusion of Choice in Subscription Chains
We're told that the subscription economy is freedom of choice. What irony! Instead of liberation, we've received a new form of dependence. We've exchanged the one-time slavery of a mortgage for thousands of small subscription chains that have imperceptibly entwined every aspect of our lives.
Think about your existence in terms of subscriptions. Your digital content (Netflix, Spotify, Apple TV+), your work (Office 365, Adobe, Slack), your health (fitness apps), your housing (rental payments), your food (meal prep subscription kits), even your clothes (clothing rental services). Every month these digital leeches suck your bank account, and this scenario you now call "freedom"?
The illusion of choice shatters against reality when you realize that alternatives are simply disappearing. Try to find a new car without a subscription to "additional services." Try to buy professional software without recurring payments. We have the "freedom" to choose between various forms of rental slavery, but fewer and fewer opportunities to actually own anything.
The Psychological Terror of the "Renter Society"
The new economic model has given birth to a new psychological state—subscription anxiety. It's the constant stress of having to keep track of dozens of automatic payments, the fear of missing a critical update, the horror of sudden price increases. We've turned into nervous managers of our own subscriptions, and our brains into accounting ledgers for calculating monthly financial obligations.
Another psychological trick is the artificial creation of fear of missing out (FOMO). You're not subscribed to the new streaming service? That means you'll miss the exclusive series everyone is talking about. Your fitness app subscription expired? Goodbye, workout history and personal statistics. Each subscription turns into emotional blackmail—pay or be excluded from the cultural context.
But the most sinister aspect is the transition from the one-time pain of purchase to the chronic discomfort of constant payments. When you bought something for $1000, you felt the hit to your wallet once. Now $1000, broken down into dozens of "just $9.99 a month," creates an illusion of affordability, hiding the true cost and turning us into financial frogs slowly being boiled in a pot of subscription capitalism.
Social Stratification: The Subscribed and the Unsubscribed
A new class system is forming. At the top are those who can afford countless subscriptions, gaining access to the full spectrum of digital and physical goods. At the bottom are those who are disconnected from the subscription economy due to financial constraints.
This "digital segregation" creates a dangerous precedent. Already, a parallel universe is forming where access to information, culture, education, and even basic services is determined by your ability to pay. Can't afford Adobe? Forget about a design career. Can't keep up with subscriptions to educational platforms? Your children will be left behind in the knowledge race.
Now imagine a future where basic city services, transportation, healthcare—everything works on a subscription model. Where you receive citizenship as a service with different pricing plans. A utopia for corporations, a dystopia for everyone else. And don't say it's impossible—ten years ago, no one thought they'd have to pay monthly to use an office text editor.
Loss of Control: When Algorithms Decide for You
In the subscription economy, you not only lose ownership—you lose control. Remember how Netflix or Spotify suddenly remove content you loved. Remember how an update transforms a familiar interface into an unrecognizable labyrinth. You're not an owner—you're a passenger on a roller coaster controlled by corporate algorithms.
Content you access is filtered, curated, and censored without your input. Features you've grown accustomed to using can disappear overnight. Even your personal data created within these systems can be locked or lost when company policy changes or payments lapse.
In the era of physical media and local software, you could say "no" to companies, refuse updates, keep your favorite version of a product. Now this control vanishes like smoke, leaving us at the mercy of algorithms and corporate decisions. Every month we give away not just money, but pieces of our digital freedom.
The Ecological Paradox of the Subscription Economy
The irony is that the subscription model is sold to us as an eco-friendly solution. "You're not buying physical things—you're saving the planet!" What a noble lie. In reality, the digital infrastructure needed to maintain the subscription economy consumes colossal energy resources.
The server farms needed for video streaming, cloud computing, and data storage consume electricity on an industrial scale. Every time you stream a movie instead of watching a DVD, you engage an entire chain of energy-intensive processes. Not to mention that the subscription model encourages excessive consumption—why limit yourself if you've already paid a fixed amount?
Thus, we've exchanged visible physical consumption for invisible digital consumption, which may prove no more sustainable. It's just that the environmental damage is now conveniently hidden from the consumer's eyes in faceless data centers on the other side of the world.
Resistance: The Fight for the Right to Own
In response to subscription capitalism, pockets of resistance are emerging. The right to repair movement, open source communities, decentralized technologies—all these initiatives seek to return control to the hands of users. People are beginning to recognize the value of ownership and are willing to fight for their right not just to use, but to truly possess.
Some consumers are returning to physical media—vinyl records are experiencing a revival not only because of sound quality but because of the tangible sense of ownership they provide. Others are abandoning corporate ecosystems in favor of open-source alternatives that cannot simply be "switched off" remotely.
Perhaps the future lies in hybrid models that combine the convenience of subscriptions with ownership guarantees. Or in fundamentally new approaches based on blockchain technologies and decentralization, where users truly control their digital assets rather than renting them from corporate giants.
Conclusion: A Future Without Property or a Return to Ownership?
The subscription economy has presented us with a philosophical question: what does it mean to own in the digital age? Is constant access equivalent to ownership? Are we ready to give up property in exchange for convenience? And most importantly—who do we become in a world where we no longer own anything?
We stand at a crossroads. One path leads to a world where corporations control access to everything—from entertainment to basic needs, turning us into eternal debtor-tenants. The other—to restoring the balance between service convenience and the fundamental right to property and control.
In this context, decentralized financial solutions like DeflationCoin offer particular value, providing an alternative to traditional economic models. In a world where everything is turning into a service with a constant subscription fee, having assets with real value that you truly own can become not just a financial solution but a form of economic resistance.
