I hate how much I love YouTube Premium
I hate how much I love YouTube Premium
It's the junkie's paradox
The other day, a podcast rocked me to the core.
I know what you’re thinking, and no, it wasn’t because of some edgelord comedy bit or a PR-massaged celebrity ‘reveal’ or some ridiculous life hack.
It was deeper than that. Far, far deeper: the hosts tried to open a YouTube video and adverts started playing.
The horror, I felt, reader, the horror.
At that moment I realised I could never go back. Living in a world without YouTube Premium is no life at all.
If you’re wondering what YouTube Premium is, oh boy, I’ve got a pithy response for you: it’s the premium version of YouTube.
In real terms, the subscription allows you to download videos, access the YouTube Music streaming, and play media in the background.
But that’s not all, I’ve saved the best to last: it also makes YouTube ad free.
You’d think signing up was a no-brainer. Well, think again, because it was a long-ass process.
Not literally, of course. Bizarrely, when a tech company wants to take your money none of the issues that negatively impact your enjoment of its services seem to happen. The payment process works. Cash comes out of your bank account with baby oil smoothness.
Strange, really. Really strange. So, so, so strange. Really.
The long process in question was personal: weighing up whether I wanted to pay Google for a service you can get basically free.
It took months of deliberation. I went back-and-forth internally, discussed it with friends and family, and talked my partner’s ear off about the whole thing.
I wish I was joking, but, you know, I write a newsletter about consumer tech. If you’re surprised by my actions, you only have yourself to blame.
Eventually, I cracked. I signed my soul (card details) over to the devil (Google).
As much as I fought it, the decision felt inevitable.
Over the past couple of years, my use of YouTube has skyrocketed. Where once it was just a place to watch silly videos, the platform has evolved into something much more alluring; I go there to discover music, find answers to questions, follow exercise classes, learn about my hobbies, and just be generally entertained.
It’s what every streaming service wishes it was.
In the end, I cracked. In a move I’m certain is deliberate, I started to feel that the amount of adverts YouTube was showing me accelerated. I was forced to wade through a raft of nonsense before I could even judge if a video was worth watching.
My arm was twisted; I signed up for YouTube Premium.
And you know what? I’ve loved every second of it.
Well, kinda.
At first, I adored this brave new world. At long last I could open a YouTube video and just, you know, watch it. No distractions, no irritating adverts, just pure C O N T E N T pumped in my veins.
Then, as is the human condition, I got used to it. YouTube Premium no longer felt like a freeing experience, I simply lived as a free man, unaware of my blessing.
Until, that is, I heard that podcast clip of a YouTube advert.
That small experience made me keenly aware of just how much I love YouTube Premium. I cannot ever imagine returning to the dark days of endless advert watching, of my mouse hovering over that skip button, waiting for those seconds to tick down.
Somehow, Google, you’ve done good. In a bad way, maybe, but good.
And I hate it. But I love it. Man, I really hate how much I love it. Long live YouTube Premium, you brilliant son-of-a-bitch.