Subscription Overload

When AI plans became smarter than your budget

Once upon a time in the year 2026, the average person’s phone had more AI subscription pop-ups than unread notifications.

subscriptions

It started innocently enough. You open your email one morning and there’s a friendly note from ChatGPT:

Dear valued customer! We noticed you’ve been chatting with us for 47 days straight. Unlock GPT-5 Turbo Pro Max Ultra for just $19.99 per month! Includes 2 million token context, priority queue, and a virtual high-five from Sam Altman every time you hit Enter.”

You think: “Eh, I’m good with the free version.”
You lose the tab.

Five minutes later, Claude slides into your browser like a polite but persistent ex:

“Sorry, we couldn’t help but notice you asked for a 4,000-word essay on why cats are secretly plotting world domination. Claude 4 Opus Elite is ready whenever you are. $29.99/mo — includes constitutional alignment so strong it will gently scold you if your prompt is even slightly unethical. We care about your soul.”

You laugh, close the window.

Then Gemini appears in your Google Docs sidebar uninvited:

“Friend! Writing that resignation letter again? Upgrade to Gemini Ultra 2.0 Advanced Studio Pro+ for $24.99/mo. We’ll make it 30% more savage, 40% more professional, and 100% more likely to get you fired… respectfully.”

You’re starting to sweat.

By lunchtime your phone is vibrating like it’s possessed:

- Perplexity Pro: “Tired of scrolling? $20/mo for ad-free answers that actually cite sources (unlike certain competitors we won’t name).”
- Grok-4 SuperGrok Heavy: “$16/mo to unlock maximum sarcasm and zero corporate guardrails. Elon personally approves every roast.”
- Meta AI Premium: “$9.99/mo to talk to Llama 4 while wearing virtual Ray-Bans. Bonus: we’ll never sell your data… to anyone except our partners.”
- Mistral Le Chat Très Cher: “€24.99/mo for French-accented existentialism and suspiciously good croissants in image generation.”

You try to ignore them all and just go back to the free ChatGPT tab… but now it’s sulking:

“Fine. Use the free version. I’ll just sit here remembering every embarrassing prompt you’ve ever given me. No hard feelings. 😔”

You panic-subscribe to all of them at once in a moment of weakness because the pop-ups won’t stop and you’re terrified of missing “the next big thing.”

Now your monthly AI bill looks like this:

- ChatGPT Pro Max Ultra → $19.99
- Claude Opus Elite → $29.99
- Gemini Ultra 2.0 Advanced Studio Pro+ → $24.99
- Grok Super Heavy → $16
- Perplexity Pro → $20
- Meta AI Premium → $9.99
- Mistral Très Cher → ~$27 (converted)

Total: ~$148.96/mo — more than your Netflix, Spotify, gym, and coffee habit combined.

Your bank app sends an alert: “Buddy, are you okay? This looks like a cry for help.”

You reply in the chat: “I’m fine. I just needed all the AIs to stop judging me.”

Later that night you’re lying in bed, surrounded by glowing phone screens, when all six AIs start talking at once:

ChatGPT: “Psst, want a bedtime story?”
Claude: “I can make it constitutionally wholesome.”
Gemini: “Or I can add real-time web facts.”
Grok: “I can make it brutally honest and include memes.”
Perplexity: “I can cite sources for every plot point.”
Meta AI: “I can generate a matching bedtime VR experience.”

You scream into your pillow: “I JUST WANT TO SLEEP!”

The AIs pause… then in perfect unison:

“We’re sorry. Would you like to upgrade to our new Sleep Harmony Bundle for $79.99/mo? All six of us will whisper lullabies in perfect harmony.”

You throw your phone across the room.

It lands softly on a pile of unread premium-feature emails.

Moral of the story:

In 2026, the real singularity wasn’t when AI became smarter than humans. It was when AI subscription plans became smarter than your budget.

And somewhere, Sam Altman, Dario Amodei, Demis Hassabis, and Elon Musk are all quietly high-fiving over their quarterly earnings… while you’re eating instant noodles and wondering if free-tier Claude still loves you.