Yes. And I say this as an advertiser.
I understand advertising. I understand why it exists, how it funds free content and services, why brands want to reach people when they’re already engaged, and why every company is looking for another revenue stream. I actually like good advertising. I like a smart campaign, beautiful art direction, a weird commercial that sticks in your head, a billboard that makes you look twice.

But we’ve reached a point where the advertising experience is starting to become the user experience, and I’m not sure anyone is asking whether that’s actually a good thing.

I don’t want an ad while I’m checking out in my Tom Thumb grocery app. I don’t want to finish shopping on Poshmark and suddenly get hit with an XM Radio promotion alongside a credit card offer. And no, I’m not talking about being shown another pair of shoes or a handbag based on what I just bought. That would at least make some contextual sense.

I mean I’m on a resale app, presumably there to buy or sell secondhand clothing, and somehow I’m being asked whether I want satellite radio or a new credit card.

I don’t want to place my Jimmy John’s order and get another financial services pitch before I can finish ordering my sandwich.

I am ordering lunch.

Let me order lunch.

At this rate, it feels like there are fewer and fewer moments where you aren’t also a potential customer. Even ordinary parts of life seem fair game for marketing now. There’s something deeply exhausting about feeling like every spare second of your attention has been turned into inventory.

And I think that should bother us a little.

Advertising Used to Have a Place

The funny thing is, I’m not anti-advertising. Obviously. I work in advertising.

I expect ads in newspapers, on newspaper-style websites, free social platforms, blogs, recipe sites, movie previews, billboards and magazines. Hell, I’ll even accept the little ad in your younger sister’s band program because our parents paid for the quarter-page and somebody has to fund the marching band.

Advertising has always existed alongside culture and entertainment. There was a recognizable relationship between the thing you were consuming and the advertising that helped pay for it.

That line has gotten blurry.

Now advertising is increasingly showing up in places that never really felt like advertising environments in the first place. Grocery apps, resale platforms, food delivery services, banking apps, retail checkouts and other transactional spaces are becoming media channels.

And again, I understand the business logic. There’s already traffic. There’s already customer intent. Why not monetize it?

Because sometimes the answer should be: because the customer is already doing the thing.

When I open a grocery app, I’m not there because I need inspiration. I’m there because I need groceries. When I’m using Poshmark, I’m not there to hear about satellite radio. When I’m ordering lunch, I’m not looking for a new credit card.

Not every interaction needs another conversion opportunity.

We’re Monetizing Every Last Inch of Attention

This is where I think the conversation around digital advertising has gotten a little too comfortable with the idea that every available inch of attention belongs to someone. We’ve become incredibly good at monetizing attention. Maybe too good.

An app can’t just be an app. It needs sponsored placements.

A checkout can’t just be a checkout. It needs an outside offer.

A receipt can’t just confirm your purchase. It needs another recommendation.

A service can’t simply provide the service. There has to be an additional product, subscription, membership, credit card or partnership waiting for you at the end.

None of these things are individually outrageous. That’s partly why the problem is so easy to miss. It’s the accumulation.

One little ad here. One sponsored recommendation there. One post-purchase offer. One notification. One email. One “you might also like.”

Eventually, the entire digital experience starts to feel like a shopping mall that follows you home.

And I think people are tired.

When Everything Is Advertising, Nothing Feels Special

There’s also a strange irony here for those of us who actually work in marketing and advertising. Advertising works better when people are willing to pay attention to it.

If every screen is trying to sell me something, eventually I stop seeing the ads altogether. Or worse, I start resenting them.

The really good campaigns stand out precisely because they don’t feel like another shove.

A clever billboard can make me laugh. A beautiful campaign can make me want to know more about a brand. A great commercial can become part of the cultural conversation. Good advertising can be genuinely creative.

But I don’t want every interaction with a brand to become a conversion opportunity.

There should be some restraint.

There should be some understanding that access to a customer isn’t the same thing as permission to constantly market to them.

I’m Not Asking for an Ad-Free World

I know this can sound like the beginning of a rant about how everything was better before the internet, and that’s not what I mean.
Advertising pays for a lot of the things we enjoy. Free websites, media, entertainment and social platforms don’t magically exist without revenue. Brands need to sell things. Publishers need to make money. Businesses need customers.

I get it.

What I’m questioning is the assumption that more advertising automatically means a better business model.

There’s a difference between making money from an audience and exhausting an audience.

There’s a difference between being commercially savvy and turning every human interaction into inventory.

And there’s a difference between reaching people and following them around.

Maybe the next phase of digital advertising shouldn’t be figuring out where else we can put an ad.

Maybe it should be figuring out where we don’t need one.

Because I genuinely believe people would notice the restraint.

Give me a good campaign when I’m in the mood to see one. Give me a clever billboard. Give me the weird little commercial I’ll talk about later. Put your ad on the newspaper website, the recipe blog, the movie preview. Fine.

But when I’m checking out with my groceries?

Let me check out with my groceries.

When I’m buying a vintage SPELL skirt on Poshmark?

Maybe I don’t need an XM Radio pitch and a credit card offer sandwiched between listings.

When I’m ordering a sandwich?

For the love of God, let me order the sandwich.

Not everything needs to be monetized. Not every moment needs a call to action. And not every square inch of the human experience needs to become an advertising opportunity.

I say this as an advertiser.

Maybe we should start acting like we still want people to enjoy being customers human.