I cancelled another subscription last week.
“I like my sovereignty,” I told them when they asked why.
I’m done with cloud services. Done with subscriptions. Done with paying monthly to access my own stuff.
I want to buy something once and own it. Like a book. Like a tool that doesn’t stop working when my credit card expires.
Here’s what nobody tells you about the subscription economy: you’re not a customer anymore. You’re a tenant.
I don’t own the software. I rent permission to use it.
I don’t own my files in the cloud. I rent storage space that disappears when I stop paying.
I don’t own access to my work. I lease it month by month.
And when the servers go down? I just…wait. Like a tenant waiting for the landlord to fix the plumbing.
I wasn’t being difficult. I was being honest about what I’d figured out.
Every subscription is a small surrender of ownership.
Every cloud service is another thing I can’t control.
Physical books don’t need wifi. Offline tools don’t require login credentials. One-time purchases don’t charge me again next month.
There’s a reason indie tool makers are going back to lifetime licenses.
A reason people are buying physical media again.
A reason “digital ownership” feels like an oxymoron.
Because it is.
The subscription model works brilliantly for companies. Predictable recurring revenue. Customer lock-in. Endless growth.
It works terribly for me.
I don’t own my music. I don’t own my books. I don’t own my software. I don’t own my photos.
I’m just renting shelf space in someone else’s warehouse.
The monthly fee isn’t for the service.
It’s the cost of giving up sovereignty.