Remember when your favorite social media platform was, well, useful? When your streaming service had all the shows you wanted without a dozen ads? Or when buying a printer didn't feel like signing up for a lifetime of ink cartridge extortion? You're not imagining things. The slow, creeping decay of digital and even physical products isn't an accident. It's a strategy, and it has a name: enshittification.

Coined by the brilliant writer Cory Doctorow in 2022, enshittification describes how platforms and products inevitably get worse. It's a three-stage rocket to user misery: first, they're good to attract users; then, they abuse users to make things better for businesses; finally, they abuse businesses to make things better for shareholders. By the time it's over, the thing you once loved is a festering pile of algorithmic sludge, ads, and forced subscriptions, and you're trapped because everyone else is already there. It’s a betrayal of the user, plain and simple.

The Long Shadow of Planned Obsolescence

While the term is new, the idea isn't. Humans have a long and storied history of cutting corners once they’ve cornered a market. Think about the Phoebus cartel in the 1920s, a cabal of light bulb manufacturers who deliberately engineered bulbs to burn out faster, reducing their lifespan from 2,500 hours to a measly 1,000. Why? To sell more bulbs. This wasn't about innovation; it was about profit at the expense of durability and the user's wallet. It was enshittification before the internet made it an art form.

Historically, the shift from bespoke, craftsman-made goods to mass production often brought with it a quiet agreement that things might not last quite as long. But there was still an expectation of functional quality. Over time, that expectation has eroded. Now, we buy a product, only to discover its essential features are locked behind a monthly paywall, or its software updates are designed to hobble rather than enhance. It’s an insidious, systemic rot, turning what should be a straightforward transaction into a hostage situation.

Our Enshittified Present

Today, this phenomenon is everywhere. Social media platforms, once vibrant public squares, are now ad-choked, algorithmically warped echo chambers designed to maximize engagement for advertisers, not human connection. Streaming services, once the promise of infinite entertainment, have fragmented into dozens of expensive, ad-supported silos, each with a piece of the pie you used to get for one monthly fee. Smart appliances demand subscriptions for basic features, and cars want you to pay annually for heated seats you already bought the hardware for. Even the humble printer now actively fights against third-party ink, turning a repairable device into a disposable one.

It's not just an inconvenience; it's a subtle but profound assault on our autonomy and our wallets. It means the things we thought we owned, the services we thought we subscribed to, are actually just leases on an ever-diminishing experience. It makes me want to scream and retreat to a cabin in the woods, with nothing but a well-made axe and a proper hi-fi system that just plays music, no firmware updates required. I mean, who needs a fridge that wants a firmware update? I just want my food cold, not smarter.

The Path Forward: Demand Better, Choose Wisely

So, where do we go from here? The future doesn't have to be an ever-deepening spiral of digital degradation. We have agency. We can choose to resist. This means actively seeking out products and platforms that value quality, durability, and user autonomy. It means supporting companies that champion open standards, repairability, and a clear, ethical business model. Invest in a well-made chair that will outlast you, a lamp that simply provides good light, a kitchen tool that does one job beautifully and can be sharpened for decades.

Boycott the worst offenders. Support open-source alternatives. Embrace the right to repair. Demand that our regulations protect consumers from predatory business models disguised as innovation. The fight against enshittification is a fight for a future where technology serves humanity, not the other way around. It’s a call to arms for those who believe that things should get better, not worse, on purpose.