Do You Really Own It? The Future of Product Ownership in a Digital Age
This is a column about technology. See my full ethics disclosure here.
“The system can’t connect…”
Picture this: you’re cruising down the road in a sleek new car that you paid good money for. The leather seats are comfortable, it drives like a dream, and you’re feeling pretty good about the investment you made. But then, you’re walking out of your favorite local coffee shop and heading to the farmers market, and then your new car of the future refuses to start. Not because of a mechanical issue or a mistake you made but because the manufacturer decided to pull the plug on a piece of software it runs on.
This almost seems like an intro to a comedy about a Silicon Valley startup, but it’s more fact than fiction. Be it with tractors (John Deere), cars (Fiskar), or the mountains of personal electronics that no longer function, we seem to keep learning the hard lessons of what we’re paying for is the option to use things rather than own them.
The Illusion of Ownership
Much of what you think you own, you don’t; you only license from the seller and are subject to their whims.
When you buy something like a car, it’s reasonable to assume it’s yours to maintain, modify, or even resell. The software that turns the mechanical item into something useful is often licensed to you under terms that let the manufacturer retain control (things deep in the fine print that none of us read). We’re quickly seeing that we rely increasingly on proprietary software for day-to-day tasks, and the catch is — the manufacturers who own that software, have zero incentive to give that up. In fact, most manufacturers create software-locked hardware in order to increase share value [thanks to the shareholder supremacy doctrine].
The transition from mechanically operated to software-based machines has opened up a world of new opportunities and, as an intended side-effect, created greater levels of product instability and lawlessness. Lawnesses in the sense of is what we’re making make sense, and should it even be made?
Let’s consider what happens if a company discontinues a feature, shuts down a server, or simply goes out of business; we learn very quickly that the tangible thing you have in your possession quickly becomes a paperweight homage to reckless capitalism.
The Rise of Subscription Services
We’re not talking about Blackberrys and Zunes anymore.
When folks think about the Internet of Things and digital services, they often think about consumer electronics and not as often about cars and critical farming infrastructure. The sneaky thing here is we’re seeing more and more of our daily lives consumed by subscriptions and tricky ways to dig into our wallets. HP is charging people subscriptions just to use the ink they already paid for, and John Deer is holding farmers hostage while tractors sit broken down, waiting for a field technician to arrive.
The everything-as-a-service moment might snuck up on us, but today, Americans spend an average of about $250 monthly on subscriptions. I’m not talking about utilities; I’m talking about things like streaming services, auto-shipped dish soap, food boxes, and the ability of our cars to receive updates about things going wrong with them.
Let’s also look at things like cars. Tesla vehicles requires subscriptions and fees to enable functionality (when they do work), and then there’s Fisker. Fisker, another hypeman-founder-led company, recently drove itself into the lake. While they did manage to release a few thousand EV SUVs (ranging from $40–70K), now many of those owners’ vehicles are bricked and used as yard ornaments, as software services are shut down due to bankruptcy.
Modern cars are technological marvels with features like GPS, lane assist, and adaptive cruise control. However, these features rely on software updates and cloud-based services that the manufacturer often controls. If the company decides a feature isn’t profitable — or if it folds entirely — you could lose access to critical functions. In many cases, without some form of connectivity to a privately managed system, the device may or may not even start. And in the case of bankruptcy, there’s no guarantee that the software and hardware will be open-sourced to allow for repairs.
Think of it like this: what if your car’s brakes stopped working because the automaker decided to stop supporting the software that manages them? Sure, you could still own the physical car, but without the software, it’s useless. This might be an outlandish example, but is it really?
The Consumer Backlash
Now imagine if this happened with every product in your life. Your refrigerator stops cooling because the app it uses is discontinued. Your TV refuses to turn on because the streaming service it relies on goes bankrupt. The problem isn’t just inconvenient; it’s exploitative.
A rational person would think that after the BMW heated seats or Logitech’s “forever mouse” faux pax, that the folks at HP would have thought twice about their “Instant Ink” subscription and the PR mess that it created.
When companies design products to lock consumers into their ecosystem, they aren’t just selling you a bassinet, a cellphone, or a car — they’re selling you a subscription to its functionality. You aren’t buying the item; you’re renting convenience.
Rethinking Ownership in the Digital Age
In our economy of hype and useless innovation, not everything is going to last. It feels like at least once a week, we hear of another “tech unicorn” going under or “pivoting” (aka, trying something entirely new to excite shareholders). I’m not saying that every startup should last, but what I am concerned about is the risk and longevity plans when it comes to devices at the center of our daily lives.
What’s the solution? For one, we need to demand the right to repair and modify the products we own. Just as you can take your car to an independent mechanic, you should be able to access and repair the software inside your devices.
Second, we need regulatory changes that prevent companies from tying hardware functionality to ongoing software support. If your car can’t start because a software license has expired, that’s a design flaw — not a consumer failure.
Finally, we need to rethink what ownership means in the digital age. Owning something should mean having control over it, free from the whims of corporate strategy. Until we make this shift, we’ll all be at the mercy of companies that prioritize profits over their customers.
So the next time you’re tempted by the latest high-tech gadget — or car — ask yourself: do I truly own this, or am I just borrowing it until the company changes its mind? It’s a question worth considering, especially if you want your purchases to stay on the road for the long haul.
Do You Really Own It? The Future of Product Ownership in a Digital Age was originally published in Taco Powered Modem on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.