You Will Own Nothing, and Be Happy

Remember when your movie collection was something you could actually stub your toe on? When lending a book meant physically handing it to someone+? Welcome to 2025, where your entire entertainment library can vanish faster than you can say “terms of service update.”

The Illusion of the Infinite Library #

We’ve been sold a beautiful dream: unlimited access to everything, everywhere, all at once. For the price of a few coffees a month, you can stream thousands of movies, millions of songs, and more TV shows than you could watch in several lifetimes. It sounds perfect until you realise you’re not buying anything. You’re renting access to someone else’s hard drive, and they hold all the keys.

The shift from ownership to access happened so smoothly that most of us didn’t notice until it was too late. We traded our dusty DVD towers and overflowing bookshelves for the sleek simplicity of “the cloud.” But here’s the thing about clouds - they have a tendency to evaporate.

Now You See It, Now You Don’t #

Last month, you were halfway through that limited series everyone was talking about. This month? “Content no longer available in your region.” No explanation. No warning. Just gone.

This isn’t hypothetical, it happens constantly. Shows get pulled from platforms due to licensing disputes. Movies disappear because streaming services decide they’re not worth the hosting costs. Music vanishes from your carefully curated playlists because artists switch labels or platforms renegotiate contracts. That workout video you paid for? Sorry, the instructor’s contract expired.

Even worse, content doesn’t just disappear; It shape-shifts. Episodes of classic shows get edited to remove “problematic” scenes. Movies get updated with new special effects that completely change the original experience. Songs get remastered in ways the artists might not have intended. When you don’t own a physical copy, you don’t own the version you fell in love with. You own access to whatever version the platform decides to serve you today.

The Ministry of Entertainment #

George Orwell would have had a field day with modern streaming services. Remember that controversial documentary that made waves last year? Good luck finding the original version now. It’s been quietly edited, with certain interviews removed and context mysteriously shifted. The platform won’t tell you what changed, they’ll just gaslight you into thinking it was always this way.

Books are getting the same treatment. Digital editions can be updated silently, without any indication that what you’re reading today isn’t what you downloaded yesterday. Passages can be altered, chapters rewritten, entire perspectives shifted all without leaving a trace. Try doing that to the paperback on your shelf.

The Lending Library That Isn’t #

Here’s a simple test of ownership: Can you lend it to a friend? With a physical DVD, book, or CD, the answer is obvious. You hand it over, they enjoy it, they give it back (hopefully). With digital subscriptions, you’re stuck telling your friend to get their own subscription, create their own account, and hope the content is available in their region with their specific service tier.

Want to gift that amazing album to someone for their birthday? Too bad you can’t wrap a streaming license. Want to pass down your movie collection to your kids? Better hope they can afford to maintain subscriptions to seven different platforms, and that those platforms still exist, and that they still carry those movies, and that the movies haven’t been edited beyond recognition.

The Freedom to Be Ridiculous #

True ownership means freedom which includes the freedom to do silly things. Want to organise your Blu-rays by colour instead of alphabetically? Go for it. Want to use that old CD as a coaster? Your choice. Want to see if you can actually eat a DVD? Well, you probably shouldn’t, but technically you could try as it’s yours.

This might sound trivial, but it represents something fundamental: control. When you own something, you decide its fate. You’re not at the mercy of a corporate algorithm or a licensing agreement or a platform’s financial troubles. You’re not dependent on internet connectivity, server availability, or whether your device is still “supported.”

The Physical Renaissance #

Here’s the ironic twist: as everything goes digital, physical media is becoming relevant again. Vinyl records are having their biggest sales years in decades. Boutique Blu-ray labels are releasing gorgeous special editions of classic films. Independent bookstores are thriving by offering genuine curation and tangible experiences which is something algorithms can’t replace.

Young people who grew up entirely in the streaming age are discovering the joy of actually owning something. They’re building collections not just for the content, but for the permanence, the artwork, the liner notes, the special features, the simple pleasure of holding and displaying what they love.

Building Your Own Archive #

This isn’t about becoming a digital hermit or rejecting all streaming services. They’re convenient, and they’re great for discovery. But for the things that matter to you, the movies that changed your life, the albums that got you through tough times, the books you want to read again you should consider buying physical copies.

Think of it as insurance against digital amnesia. Create your own archive of the things you actually want to keep. Because when the servers go down, the licenses expire, or the platforms fold, you’ll still have what matters. On your shelf. In your hands. Actually yours.

The Happy Part #

“You will own nothing, and be happy” assumes that ownership is a burden, that having less stuff automatically means more happiness. But there’s a difference between mindless accumulation and intentional collection. There’s joy in choosing what to keep, in curating your own library, in knowing that your favourite film will always be there exactly as you remember it.

Real happiness isn’t found in having access to everything but owning nothing. It’s found in the freedom to choose to keep what matters, and to share what you love. That’s not just ownership. That’s autonomy. And in an increasingly connected, controlled, and curated world, that might be the most valuable thing you can own.

So next time you’re about to hit “subscribe” instead of “buy,” ask yourself: Do I want to access this, or do I want to own it for as long as I want it? The difference matters more than you might think.