💸 Recurring Subscription RANT: A Comedy in Three Acts
How canceling a $9.99 subscription took 47 minutes and my will to live
I recently decided to audit my subscriptions. You know, do that thing where you look at your credit card statement and go "wait, what the FUCK is 'AMZN DIGITAL CHARGE'?"
I thought I was being financially responsible. Mature, even. Turns out, I was entering the first circle of Digital Hell.
Act I: Discovery
First, you have to FIND your subscriptions. This is harder than it sounds because they're scattered across:
- Apple Subscriptions
- Google Play Subscriptions
- PayPal Automatic Payments
- Individual website account pages
- Your credit card's merchant portal
- Some primordial email receipt from 2019
It's like an Easter egg hunt, but instead of chocolate, you find recurring $4.99 charges you forgot about.
The Hits
That meditation app you used twice in 2020? Still charging.
The newspaper you subscribed to for one article? Still going.
A VPN you don't remember signing up for? Absolutely still billing.
I found FOURTEEN subscriptions I'd forgotten about. Total yearly cost? $843.
That's a new iPad, folks. Or therapy. Lord knows I need it after this experience.
Act II: The Cancellation Journey
So you found the subscriptions. Great! Now you just need to cancel them. Simple, right?
WRONG.
The Button Hunt
Most services don't have a "Cancel Subscription" button. They have a "Manage Subscription" button that leads to an "Account Settings" page that links to a "Billing Preferences" section that MIGHT have a "Modify Plan" option that EVENTUALLY shows a tiny, grayed-out "Cancel" link.
In 8-point font.
At the bottom of the page.
Below the fold.
Written in a color that's technically visible but spiritually invisible.
The Dark Patterns Olympics
Once you find the cancel button, the fun really begins:
The "Are You Sure?" Cascade:
- Are you sure?
- Are you REALLY sure?
- But wait, have you considered this 10% discount?
- What if we gave you three free months?
- Please tell us why you're leaving (dropdown with no "your UI is predatory" option)
- Are you sure you want to lose access to [feature you didn't know existed]?
- Final chance: 50% off forever!
- OK fine, but you're breaking our hearts
- Actually wait, one more confirmation email
Real example: I tried to cancel my New York Times subscription. The process had SEVEN separate confirmation screens. By screen five, I was questioning my own reality.
The Sneaky Stay-Subscribed
My favorite (read: most hated) dark pattern: the service that requires you to call to cancel.
You call. You wait on hold for 37 minutes. You finally reach a human. They express surprise and sadness that you want to leave. They offer you a deal. You decline. They offer another deal.
Eventually—after what feels like negotiating a hostage situation—they process the cancellation.
"You're all set! Your service will continue until the end of your billing period."
Small print you notice later: Your billing period renews in 11 months. You're still subscribed for almost another year.
Act III: The Aftermath
After a week of this, I've learned several things:
1. Companies are REALLY invested in keeping your $7.99/month
The amount of engineering and design effort that goes into preventing cancellations is staggering. Imagine if they put that energy into making products people actually wanted to keep!
2. There's no universal "subscription manager"
This should exist! A central dashboard that shows ALL your recurring charges and lets you cancel them.
(Yes, I know apps like this exist. They all require you to connect your bank account and share all your financial data. Hard pass.)
3. Free trials are never free
Every "free trial" is a subscription in waiting. They're counting on you forgetting to cancel.
4. "Cancel anytime" is technically true but spiritually false
Sure, you CAN cancel anytime. In the same way you CAN climb Mount Everest. Technically possible, but it's gonna take significant effort, determination, and maybe some supplemental oxygen.
The Subscription Philosophy Problem
Here's my hot take: Subscriptions aren't inherently bad. I pay for services I use and value. Netflix? Worth it. Spotify? Absolutely.
The problem is when companies use subscriptions as a way to extract revenue from people who forgot they were subscribed, rather than as a value exchange between customer and business.
If your retention strategy is "make cancellation so annoying that people give up," you don't have a product—you have a scam with good branding.
Closing Thoughts
Anyway, I'm going to go set up 47 calendar reminders for trials that are about to renew.
If you need me, I'll be in my account settings, hunting for cancellation buttons like I'm on a very boring safari.