Days in the Life of Mo

Dear “Are you still watching?”,

I know you weren’t designed to care about me.

You’re just a polite little modal. A nudge. A check-in written by someone in a product meeting with a slide deck full of engagement metrics.

And yet.

You show up at exactly the right moment. When the room is dark, my tea is cold, and I’ve promised myself just one more episode for the fourth time.

You don’t accuse. You don’t shame. You just ask.

And somehow, that question lands harder than it should.

You interrupt me the way a good friend would

Not with panic. Not with alarms.

Just a gentle: Hey. You still there?

It’s funny how a line of UI text can do what my inner voice refuses to.

It makes me pause.

It reminds me I have a body. A bladder. Responsibilities. A tomorrow.

In a world built to keep us watching forever, that tiny interruption feels almost… radical.

Streaming platforms are engineered for frictionless consumption; auto‑play, infinite queues, personalised recommendations designed to keep you engaged longeR.

And then there’s you.

A speed bump.

You are the opposite of the algorithm

The algorithm wants more.

More episodes. More time. More data points.

You want confirmation.

Not attention. Not loyalty.

Consent.

Product designers call this a “confirmation checkpoint”… a moment where the system asks the user to consciously continue rather than drifting forward on momentum alone.

It’s small. But it matters.

Because attention isn’t infinite. And rest isn’t optional.

As a developer, I see you differently

I know how features like you are debated.

Someone probably asked:

“Won’t this reduce watch time?”

And someone else probably replied:

“Yes. But it’s better for users.”

That tension—between optimisation and care—shows up everywhere in tech.

Dark patterns push. Ethical design asks.

Researchers in human‑computer interaction have long argued that respectful interruptions improve user well‑being without destroying trust.

You’re proof.

Sometimes I ignore you. Sometimes I listen.

Let’s be honest.

Sometimes I click “Yes” with confidence. Sometimes with guilt. Sometimes with the defiance of someone who has had a long day and earned this.

But every time you appear, I’m reminded that I had a choice.

And choice, real choice, is rare on the modern internet.

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When “Are you still watching?” pops up…

Do you feel annoyed? Relieved? Seen?

Or do you, like me, quietly thank it before ignoring it?

Tell me in the comments. I’m curious how this tiny question lands for other humans.

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If you enjoy tech stories with heart, humour, and the occasional appreciation for small, well‑designed moments—subscribe. I write about code, culture, and the quiet details that shape how we live online.