The era of focused software is officially dead
One of the buzzwords I remember from the 90s was “convergence,” where different types of technologies would be brought together in one device. Our smartphones are convergent devices. You can replace your mail, music, movies, books and more with this one device that does it all. Overall, I think such convergence was a good thing.
However, I don’t think it works as well when your software applications start to converge. What started as a simple media player or messaging app is gradually adding more and more features. Developers are trying to compete with everyone in every area. This results in apps that do nothing but annoy me.
Every application is now a platform
It’s not enough for an app to simply do what it has become popular for. Previously, the transaction was simple: you create an app that does what I need, and I will pay you for the app, or you will earn ad money. However, it seems that as soon as a tool becomes popular, it has to start growing. Developers need to keep inflating it, because for some reason quantity gets confused with quality.
Notion is a good example. It’s a platform that many of my colleagues love, but there’s no denying that it’s far from the focused note-taking app it once was. It’s now “The AI Workspace That Works For You.” and there are so many features built in that there is an inherent overhead.
I’m not saying Notion is bad because of this, it’s clear that a lot of people like it the way it is today. I say there’s a reason I just use the Notes app on macOS and iOS instead of something fancier: I just need to jot down some notes. I don’t need to run a small business or collaborate with a team of people.
Basic tasks are buried under features
The more features and functionality you add to an app, the harder it becomes to find and use the features at the heart of that app. If you’re old enough to remember Winampyou’ll know that this was a music player that really stripped things down to the essentials. You could bloat it yourself with poorly designed plugins and skins, but out of the box it was pure, focused software.
Of course, most people listen to music on streaming platforms these days, and in my case, I’ve been on the Spotify bandwagon for a few years now. Which means, unfortunately, I’ve also seen this app strain under Spotify’s ambition to be much more than an app you use to listen to music.
Every time I open Spotify, it takes me way too long to get to my playlists and start listening to music. I’m not here for the podcasts or audiobooks. I’m not here to be hustled for the latest music (probably paid promotions). I just want to listen to the music I paid for.
Accounts, sync and cloud are required
Perhaps what I hate most about modern apps is the almost universal need to be connected to the Internet. I know that for most people this is not a practical problem, because staying constantly connected to the Internet is easier than ever. Still, there is no reason why (as an example) a calculator app needs an internet connection to perform its basic functions.
I don’t necessarily want to sync all my information by default to an app developer’s cloud storage. I almost never want to create an account online and, honestly, I’m usually happy to pay a small upfront fee for the privilege.
Monetization distorts design
You knew this was coming, but money is one of the main reasons why app design is so evil these days. On the one hand, either everything is just a subscription, or there are a bunch of paid features behind a subscription that really shouldn’t be. As an example, years ago I paid a one-time price to own a copy of Songsterr, a guitar tab app.
At one point, the developer decided to move from a one-time payment model to a subscription, but people who purchased the app were assured that the original agreement would be honored. This is why you see this message when you try to manage your subscription.
This seems fine, except half the time I try to use the app it tells me I need to subscribe and doesn’t recognize that I have a lifetime license for that version of the app. It’s frustrating enough that I ended up paying for the “legacy” subscription tier anyway, because repeatedly force-closing the app until it recognizes my past purchase is not how I want to spend the first five minutes of a guitar practice session.
Ultimately, every app I open these days tries to hold me back by jingling keys in all directions and shaking its begging bowl. All I want to do is pay for what I need him to do, to get him to do this thing, and then move on with my life. However, it seems the invisible hand of the market has other ideas.
This is bad news for you and me, because it means a lack of control and agency when it comes to the software we use. As app store operators begin to crack down on sideloading and we become completely dependent on these storefronts to serve us the apps we use, the only choice we’ll have is to accept the bloat and pay for it too.
