Mobile apps are those delightful little spies we willingly invite into our pockets. Sure, they promise convenience, entertainment, or maybe just a way to kill time, but their real business model? Hoovering up your data like a Roomba on steroids.

The Great Permission Heist

  • Terms of Service & Privacy Policies are not agreements—they’re hostage notes written in legalese. The average Privacy Policy is 2,518 words long (because transparency is best served as an unreadable wall of text). Reading all the policies for your installed apps would take 16 hours—or roughly the time it takes to regret your life choices.
  • “Free” apps are the worst offenders. They’re not free—you’re just paying in personal data instead of cash.
  • Pre-installed apps are the ultimate betrayal. Your carrier forces them on you (looking at you, Serbian media apps), and you can’t even delete them. Net neutrality? More like net absurdity.

“But why do they need all these permissions?”

Great question! Here’s what your apps really do with them:

  • “Make phone calls” = “Let us dial premium numbers in the background.”
  • “Read contacts” = “We’d like to spam your friends, thanks.”
  • “Read SMS” = “We enjoy your private texts more than you do.”
  • “Access location” = “We’ll stalk you better than your ex.”
  • “Modify system settings” = “We’d like to turn off your security features now.”

Some apps (like Google Search) demand 40+ permissions to function, while alternatives (DuckDuckGo) ask for three. Funny how that works.

Follow the money (Because your data is the currency)

  • Ads, ads, ads! Banners, pop-ups, fake surveys—your screen is now a billboard.
  • “Monetisation” is just a fancy word for “selling your soul in increments.”
  • Third-party trackers are bad, but mobile apps are worse—because you agreed to this nonsense by clicking “Accept.”

The final joke

We’ve reached peak absurdity:

  • Metadata is “public” (so companies vacuum it up).
  • Opting out means losing the app entirely (because choice is an illusion).
  • Your phone is now a corporate surveillance device (congrats!).

The bottom line

Your smartphone isn’t yours—it’s a data extraction tool disguised as a gadget. And the worst part? You signed off on it.

But hey, at least Candy Crush is fun, right? (Until it starts reading your emails.)