Temps de lecture/Reading time : 4 minutes
Just ten or fifteen years ago, buying a film, an MP3 album, a piece of software, or a plug-in was simple:
you paid, you downloaded, you owned it.
Today, that world is vanishing before our eyes.
Quietly, the cultural and digital industries have pushed us into a new logic: we no longer own anything. We rent everything.
And this shift is not harmless. It may be the biggest disruption in digital culture since the invention of the MP3.
It’s time to open our eyes.
Tech giants first presented subscriptions as a miracle solution:
On paper, it sounds great.
In practice, it’s a well-designed trap.
A system where we trade freedom for convenience.
Where we give up ownership in exchange for temporary access.
Where we become dependent on services we do not control.
Because behind the promise of “everything, anytime,” lies a brutal truth:
a subscription is not a purchase. It is a rental.
And in a rental, you are never the owner.
Let’s take a concrete and revealing example: Boss pedals.
Boss is part of musical culture — the DS-1, the CE-2, the DD-7… iconic, robust, timeless machines.
When Roland announced plug-in versions of these pedals, musicians were excited: the Boss sound in a DAW, without compromise.
But the reality?
Roland locked these plug-ins behind — you guessed it — a subscription.
No one-time purchases. No perpetual licenses.
Just a cloud, a monthly fee, a conditional access.
To use a single virtual pedal, a musician must:
Boss is far from alone.
Waves, Slate Digital, Adobe, Avid, Autodesk, even ChatGPT…
All are pushing toward the same model: perpetual rental.
This shift is no coincidence.
It fits a clear economic logic: a trapped user is worth more than a free customer.
When you buy software, the company earns money once.
When you rent software, it earns money every month, forever.
This is the subscription economy, and companies love it.
But for users, it amounts to slow, organized dispossession.
We are no longer buyers.
We are recurring revenue streams.
It’s the same mechanism as smartphones: glued batteries, proprietary parts, restricted repairs — all to keep you locked inside an ecosystem.
Subscriptions are the digital equivalent of this cage.
Another subtle manipulation often heard:
“With a subscription, you get access to thousands of items — it’s better than buying.”
But this so-called “unlimited access” depends on three fragile conditions:
This is conditional, revocable access.
We assume Spotify, Netflix, or Apple Music will last forever.
But who predicted the fall of:
Today’s giants can collapse tomorrow, replaced by a new technology, a more convenient system, or an entirely different model.
And when they fall, they will take our digital libraries with them.
The music industry was the testing ground.
Before streaming:
With streaming:
And now this model is spreading to:
Everything that used to be downloadable and archivable is becoming a temporary service.
This is perhaps the darkest consequence.
When everything is on the cloud, locked behind subscriptions and temporary licenses, there is no real digital heritage left.
Tomorrow, a company can decide to:
We are no longer masters of what we consume.
We are tenants of our own culture.
If this model continues, we are heading for a world where:
It is a programmed digital amnesia.
Several forms of resistance exist.
Download, store, and preserve what you can offline.
It’s inconvenient.
But it’s a political act.
Some countries are starting to consider legislation requiring that:
If a product exists, consumers must have the option to buy and keep it.
Musicians, developers, and producers who still sell perpetual licenses need support now more than ever.
We live in a strange paradox:
technology gives us access to everything… but takes ownership of everything away.
It opens the door while chaining us to the doorstep.
Subscriptions can be convenient, but they must not become the only option.
Without vigilance, we are heading toward a world where everything is temporary, disposable, locked.
A world where we no longer own our films, our tools, our creations, or our culture.
It is up to us to say:
No. What I pay for, I want to own. I want to keep. I want to control.
The battle for digital ownership has only just begun.