Don’t Show Me Ads

Seriously, just don’t. I don’t care about your product, and I don’t want to see it. The very fact you’re trying to steal my valuable attention and time in a pathetic attempt to sell it to me already tells me it’s not worth it. A product should speak for itself. If I cared about it; if it solved a problem for me… I would already be using it.

Marketing and advertising, more often than not, are a scourge upon the human existence. They are inherently abusive practices designed to extract maximum value from the individual while providing minimum value in return. Now, I’m not talking about a simple shop vendor having a storefront with a “SALE! 50% OFF!!1!” sign – that’s perfectly fine. Storefront sales have been happening for centuries, and you can simply walk by them. I would consider this ‘passive’ advertising. I’m talking about cold-calling, unsolicited emailing, door-knocking, i.e. ‘active’ attempts to manipulate me into purchasing your product.

‘What about online advertising?’, I hear you thinking. ‘Isn’t that passive?’ Yes and no. An occasional, non-invasive banner-ad? Fine (but I’ll still block it anyway because fuck you). Full-screen takeovers that actively block what I’m trying to read? Pages that are 90% ads, 10% content? Persistent ads on phone apps? Ads thrust upon me using so-called ‘dark patterns’? Absolutely get fucked.

Am I being too hyperbolic? Probably, but the point stands.

The Fundamental Principle: Extraction vs. Gift

Despite what you may think from everything so far, I don’t actually hate commerce. I buy things, I pay for things, I look at potential products. I have subscriptions, I buy groceries, I pay for services, etc. What I actively despise is extraction.

There’s an inherent, fundamental difference between someone offering value and someone extracting value. A friend recommending a product? That’s fine. They’re not getting a commission, they’re not trying to manipulate me, and they (usually) have no stake in whether I buy it. The decision remains entirely mine. Advertising and marketing? That’s not fine. The moment someone is trying to sell me something, when their goal is to extract as much value from me as possible, regardless of whether I actually need it? We are now adversaries, and I will treat you as such. And you know what? That’s fine. Admit it. Don’t dress it up as “helping me find solutions” or “meeting my needs”. That’s horseshit. You’re trying to take my money, and that makes you my enemy.

The entire field of marketing is built on manipulation. They’re not asking “Does this person need this product?”, or “How can I solve a problem for this person at a fair price?”, they’re asking “How can we make this person think they need this product?”. That’s manipulation; that’s extraction – and I won’t have it.

The Enforcement Mechanism: Spite

Now here’s where I may start to sound somewhat unreasonable. I ask that you bear with me.

Let’s say that hypothetically, you attempt to extract value from me, e.g. you cold-call me, spam me, or interrupt what I’m doing with your invasive ads. Most people would just ignore it, albeit with varying degrees of annoyance. That’s not me. I will actively work against you. I will go out of my way to avoid your product and anything associated with it, you, and your company. I will tell everyone in my network to avoid you. (I also manually strip affiliate data out of URLs and cookies, but that’s just routine).

ℹ️ Note

I feel I should add that this doesn’t extend to the point where it would affect my professional obligations. If I feel your product is objectively the best choice for my employer, and if there is no realistic alternative, I will (begrudgingly) hold my tongue. Though, this doesn’t extend to so-called “water-cooler chat”. I will speak freely there.

Is this petty? Is this spiteful? Absolutely. And spite is an extremely effective motivator. If you’ve slighted me enough, there is a very good chance I am actively willing to suffer as long as you suffer more.

If cold-calling and spam-emailing weren’t effective, they wouldn’t be happening. Amortised, the cost is effectively zero. However, by being spiteful and actively working against you, the hope is that it will turn your “free” act of manipulation into a cost, i.e. an actual tangible loss of value, a negative incentive. My goal is to maximise that loss to (1) spite you, and (2) make you leave me alone.

I’ll be honest… This is actively exhausting. It’s a constant state of low-grade warfare. But I prefer this to the alternative, which is capitulation.

And just to be 100% clear – this is transactional, not personal. I don’t hate the salesperson as a human being. I hate what they do. Just because I have little respect for the profession, does not mean I have little respect for the person. One needs to be able to separate their work from their person. But the moment you don your salesman/marketing persona… you cease to be human.

The Economic Reality: What This Costs

ℹ️ Note

I bet I’ve come across as a bit of an asshole so far. Fair – I have been. This post started off as a rant, and expanded from there. I hope to show you that I’m not quite the asshole I’ve presented so far. In fact, I consider myself a rather decent person, just with an extremely low tolerance for bullshit and incompetence.

So, what does this actually look like in practice? Because I’m not just refusing to buy things and stewing in my own resentment. I do pay for products. I do support companies. Just not through the mechanisms they traditionally expect.

The inconvenience is real. When I reject a product on principle, I don’t just find the next-best alternative and move on. Sometimes there is no alternative. Sometimes I have to do things manually, slowly, and inefficiently. Sometimes I just go without entirely. And I’m fine with that. The friction is a price I’m willing to pay to maintain my agency.

If I need software, my first instinct is to find a FOSS option. If there isn’t one, I’ll reconsider whether I actually need it. This is somewhat an ideological decision, I’ll admit. If I do actually need it, I may consider proprietary alternatives. If they’ve not pissed me off.

For physical goods, I think differently. I’m willing to pay significantly more upfront if something will last. Quality boots, durable tools, well-made furniture – I’ll shell out for longevity. The per-use cost becomes reasonable over time, and I’m not constantly replacing cheap crap. This is closer to an investment than an extraction. Buy once, use for years, and avoid the never-ending treadmill of planned obsolescence.

But software-as-a-service? Subscription models that never end? That is extraction, and I won’t voluntarily play that game. (Hint: I am much more amenable to pay-as-you-go/prepaid services).

Example: JetBrains Complete Pack

I’m a yearly subscriber to JetBrains’ Complete Pack. Happily so – for now, anyway1. They’re one of the few companies that have earned my money, and here’s why: they never tried to sell to me.

I discovered their products organically.

Back in the late 2010s, I was still primarily a Windows user, and I needed Visual Studio. I’d been wanting to switch to Linux full-time for a while, but I primarily used C/C++ and there was simply nothing I could find on Linux that matched its capabilities. (Sorry, purists, I like my IDEs, I like my IntelliSense, and I like having more than 80 characters on a screen). I’m not ashamed to admit I couldn’t survive in vim or emacs when dealing with large C++ projects.

I’d known about the existence of JetBrains CLion for a while, but the price tag really turned me off2. I’m inherently cheap – not in a bad way, mind you, but I avoid spending money when I don’t have to. Visual Studio was free. CLion was not.

I eventually had to switch anyway (I forget why), so I attempted CLion’s trial. It wasn’t exactly what I was used to, but I could manage. Eventually, I grew to like it, and ended up paying for it.

Bit of a tangent, but the point is that the entire decision was mine. It wasn’t marketed to me, it wasn’t forced upon me; I decided I liked it, and parted with some money.

That’s the model that works. Build something good. Let people find it. Don’t spam me, don’t interrupt me, don’t try to manipulate me into buying it. If it’s genuinely useful, word will spread. If it’s not, no amount of marketing will make me want it.

ℹ️ Note

Were I starting fresh, VSCode (actually VSCodium) would probably suffice. One of the main reasons I originally chose CLion over it was because VSCode didn’t allow dragging tabs to new windows – a limitation that has long since been resolved. You could consider me, in a mild sense, “locked in”.

But, let’s be crystal-clear about what “locked in” means here. If JetBrains cut my access tomorrow, it would suck, but I would adapt relatively quickly. That is not lock-in in any meaningful sense.

It is nothing like a business being locked into any of $large-red-circle-company’s products, where migration could potentially cost millions and years. That kind of lock-in is engineered deliberately. Mine was chosen freely, can be exited cheaply, and still provides value.

Counter-Example: [REDACTED COMPANY]

ℹ️ I’ve redacted the company name because lawyers exist.

One time I received a cold sales email from [REDACTED COMPANY] to my work email address.

My first thought: LinkedIn scraping. Already a scummy practice, and that alone would earn them a spot on the shitlist.

Then I checked. The address they emailed isn’t on my LinkedIn. I’ve never directly interacted with this company via any professional channels.

The only way they could have gotten it: either (a) they harvested it from telemetry in our self-hosted instance of their OSS product, or (b) they went digging through my GitHub commits to find a work email that isn’t surfaced in the normal UI.

One is a violation of trust. The other is just degenerate lowlife behaviour.

Now, I can already hear someone saying: you’re using their product for free. Don’t they deserve to get something in return?

No. They chose the open-source license. They knew what they were signing up for. Nobody forced them to release it under AGPLv3. If they wanted to monetise their users, they could have kept it proprietary, or offered a paid tier, or any number of above-board approaches. What they don’t get to do is have it both ways – take the goodwill and community trust that comes with open source, and then treat their users’ data as fair game for extraction.

I don’t know which method they used to get my email, and honestly I don’t care. Both are the behaviour of a company that sees users as resources to extract.

ℹ️ Note

If you’re harvesting data from self-hosted OSS instances, consider this:
You’re dealing with rank-and-file employees who may have no choice whether their data is put through your system. Management and marketing signed up for this – the average employee did not. Have some goddamned common decency.

This incident earned them a permanent place on my shitlist.

The Valuation Problem: Price as Extraction

My issues with “extraction” don’t stop at advertising. They extend to the pricing itself.

If I think you’re overcharging – if the price feels disproportionate to the value I think you’re providing – I generally won’t buy it. Even if it would benefit me. Even if it would make my life easier. The principle takes precedence.

Now, there’s a distinction here that matters. Not all expensive things are overpriced, per se, and not all overpriced things earn my ire.

Example 1: The Meat Pie

There’s a local bakery that makes decent meat pies. A few years ago (relatively speaking, probably closer to 10 years), they were ~$3.50. Perfectly reasonable, and I bought them regularly. Then they went to $5. Still acceptable. Costs go up, I get it. Then $7. Then $8.

At $8, I completely stopped buying them.

Do I blame the bakery? Not really. I can see what’s happened – ingredient costs, rent, wages, etc. have all increased. I sympathise. I respect their right to charge whatever they need to in order to stay viable.

But I also have the right to say no.

“I cannot justify the expenditure” is a common response of mine (many a time to the chagrin of my colleagues). It’s just economic reality. The pie isn’t worth $8 to me, regardless of what it costs them to make. Our valuations are incompatible, and thus no transaction occurs. No hard feelings, I harbour them no ill-will.

If the price came back down to something reasonable, I’d reconsider. That door isn’t permanently closed. This is a boundary, not spite.

ℹ️ Note

Since writing this section, I’ve checked the price. They’re now $12.50.

I’m not paying that.

And just like that, we’ve crossed from “expensive but understandable” to “fuck you and your ancestors” territory. $3.50 to $12.50 is a 257% increase. That’s not economic pressure. That’s price-gouging. That’s extraction. And for that, they’ve earned my enmity.

Example 2: A Box of Cereal

Take breakfast cereal. One of the large boxes used to be $4-$5. Now? Easily $10, sometimes more.

The cereal itself hasn’t become more valuable. The manufacturing hasn’t become proportionally more expensive. What’s changed is that they believe they can extract $10 from me where they once extracted $4. They’re testing how much they can take.

My response: nothing. They get nothing.

I simply don’t eat cereal anymore. Occasionally, if it goes on sale for less than half-price, I will grab a box for nostalgia. But at that point, I’m extracting value from them, and have zero qualms about it. They’ve been extracting from me for years; I feel no guilt doing it back, once or twice. They’re selling at a loss or minimal margin, and I’m taking advantage. The spite becomes profitable.

The Distinction

The difference between the $8 pie and the $10 cereal (or the $12.50 pie) is the perceived intent.

When I perceive survival pricing, I’m sympathetic but firm. When I perceive extraction, I’m spiteful and permanent.

My judgement might not always be objectively correct. But it’s mine to make, and that’s the entire point of this post. My agency in valuation is absolute.

ℹ️ Note

To be clear: I’m not opposed to paying $12.50 for a pie. If it’s twice the size, of exceptional quality, or uses premium ingredients – fine. I’ll gladly pay for value. But this is the same pie – the same size, the same quality, with a 257% higher price.

That’s not happening.

The Gauntlet

If you wish to attempt to sell to me, you must answer the following questions. Some of them may seem unreasonable – they are not – they are deliberately, carefully unreasonable. That’s the point. Answer honestly:

  1. Did I discover you organically? I found you. You did not find me. No cold-calls, no spam, no unsolicited DMs. If you reached out first: you fail.

  2. Have I never been invaded by your advertising? Non-invasive ads are acceptable. A website banner ad? Fine. A bus-side poster? Go for it. The moment you interrupt me – a modal popup, a full-screen takeover, a dark-pattern close button, a video that autoplays audio – we are done. Same goes for anything that actively tries to manipulate me. I understand you need to advertise. I don’t understand why you need to be a dick about it.

  3. Am I feeling generous today? Not petty. Not vindictive. Not in a mood where I’d rather suffer than let you have a sale. This gate alone eliminates most of you, most of the time.

  4. Does nothing smell off? No sketchy website, no AI-generated slop, no too-good-to-be-true claims. Maybe I just don’t like the cut of your jib. If my gut says no: go home.

  5. Is your pricing non-extractive? No subscription treadmill, no SaaS lock-in, no per-seat licensing for solo use. Perpetual fallback or one-time purchase required.

  6. Is your price honest? Proportional to value? Survival pricing passes. “Because we can” pricing fails. If you’re price-gouging: I’d sooner go without.

  7. Do you work fully offline? No mandatory telemetry, no account-wall for basic function. If you demand internet to do something inherently local: no. If you merely want to phone home – I’ll just bwrap --unshare-net you.

  8. Are you FOSS? If yes: you skip the line. I’ll try you with no resistance and may even contribute. If no: proceed, but know the standards are higher.

  9. If proprietary, is there NO viable FOSS alternative? If a decent FOSS option exists, I’ll use that instead. You must be substantially better to earn my consideration.

  10. Am I willing to not spite myself today? If you’ve slighted me – past or present – I will actively make my life harder rather than give you a sale. I will do things manually, use worse tools, go without. Purely so you don’t get the satisfaction of selling to me. This gate overrides everything.

If you’ve answered Yes to roughly 90% of the above… I might try your product. The 10% I overlook is my prerogative. Do not test me.

The Survivors

Despite everything above, a handful of companies have actually passed.

There aren’t many. That’s the point.

Closing

This post started as a rant. It became something much more structured (and much longer) than I anticipated, but the rant-undertones are still visible throughout.

I’m not anti-commerce. I’m not anti-capitalist. I buy things. I pay for things. I’ve even found companies worth supporting.

I’m just… tired of our society’s tendency to treat individuals as a resource to be mined, to be extracted. And at some point, you just have to stop playing the game entirely, or only play it when it suits you.

This entire article can be summarised as: “Leave me the fuck alone”. That’s intentional. But expanding it slightly:

Build something good. If it’s in my area of interest, I will eventually find it. Do not try to sell to me. Do not try to advertise to me. If it is a paid product, charge a fair price. Don’t expect a sale – I may decide by my own opaque reasoning not to buy it. Accept that it’s my decision to make, and don’t try to influence me.

That’s all you need to do, and frankly, I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

  1. Less and less so due to enshittification, but that’s another story. ↩︎

  2. Context: I live in Australia, and use Australian Dollars. CLion was $89 USD, which was ~$120 AUD at the time - it’s out of impulse-purchase territory. ↩︎