Remember when streaming TV was the future? When we thought ditching cable would free us from endless menus, overpriced bundles, and 17 clicks to find a Law & Order rerun?
Yeah. About that.
We’ve officially gone from cutting the cord to getting tangled in a web of streaming apps, contradictory interfaces, and “Continue Watching” sections that forget who we are.
This was supposed to be simple. But instead, it’s UX chaos with a side of autoplay trauma.
Every App Is a Little Broken in Its Own Way
Let’s play a game: open your favorite streaming app. Try to find a specific tv show without typing the exact name. Go ahead. I’ll wait.
If you didn’t rage-click six menus deep, congratulations. You’re either a streaming whisperer or accidentally still using a DVD player.
Each platform has its own flavor of pain:
- Netflix: “You liked one true crime doc? Here’s 47 murder series and nothing else forever.”
- Max (HBO? HBO Max? Just Max?): Search is a guessing game. And they’ve renamed my watchlist six times.
- Prime Video: Good luck figuring out what’s included with Prime. Or how to turn off that banner ad that just screamed at you.
- Hulu: Watch one binge tv series and your homepage turns into a sitcom-only cult.
Even the layout is inconsistent—some apps use horizontal scrolling, others vertical. Some open full-screen, others keep popping menus over your show like digital whack-a-mole. There is no standard. No consistency. Just vibes. And not good ones.
Search Tools That Make You Feel Gaslit
Why is it that streaming TV apps can play 4K HDR video instantly but can’t handle basic search functions?
I recently typed in “ER” (you know, the iconic tv show?) and got results for Emily Ratajkowski. Respectfully, no.
We need search bars that function like we live in 2025. Autocomplete that actually completes. Filters that work. And for the love of all that is bingeable, a search that doesn’t return “no results” for shows I just saw on the homepage.
And can we please talk about typos? One misplaced character and suddenly the app acts like your show never existed. This isn’t the Library of Alexandria—it’s supposed to be a streaming service.
“My Watchlist” Is Not a Suggestion
We all treat our watchlists like sacred scrolls—carefully curated, emotionally loaded, slightly chaotic.
So why do so many streaming apps treat them like a suggestion box from 2011?
Sometimes “My Watchlist” hides. Sometimes it gets wiped. Sometimes the platform randomly decides you’re done with a show mid-season.
No, Max. I did not finish The Gilded Age. I paused it. There’s a difference. And it was for snacks.
And don’t even get me started on syncing across devices. Watch one episode on your tablet and your TV acts like you betrayed it. My watchlist should follow me like a loyal emotional support algorithm. Instead, I’m stuck manually re-adding shows like it’s 2009.
Why Does It Start Playing? Who Asked for This?
Here’s a thought: maybe—just maybe—I want to read the show description before it starts screaming at me from the autoplay preview.
No volume control. No stop button. Just vibes and chaos.
In what world is surprise audio a good UX choice? The same one where a “Skip Intro” button disappears the second you reach for the remote.
Let Us Binge in Peace
Streaming TV should be a soft place to land. After a long day, we just want to hit play—not solve a digital escape room.
Until someone figures out how to unify all these streaming apps into one platform with actual functioning UX (and no autoplay horror), we’ll be here—yelling into the void and rewatching the same three shows because it’s easier than navigating anything new.
And yes, that show is 9-1-1. Don’t judge.
Related Posts from the Signal Spiral
- What’s Actually On My Watchlist (And Why It’s Unhinged)
- I Tracked My TV Habits with Hobi… and Apparently I’ve Watched Over a Year of Television. Whoops.
We hate ads too. But unfortunately, none of the streaming platforms accept sarcasm as payment.
