I recently bought an Xbox Series X. I haven’t gamed seriously since the Xbox 360, but with the next Grand Theft Auto dropping this year, I figured I’d get ahead of the chaos before consoles and copies become scarce. Honestly, I was also hoping it would be a bit of escapism from the doomscroll-heavy state of society.

But what I got instead was a masterclass in modern friction. Setting it up felt like a multi-day onboarding flow from hell.

• Download the Xbox app to set up the console

• Sign in with a Microsoft account to make an Xbox account (why are these different?)

• Download a system update just to start

• Realize Xbox 360 games are barely backwards compatible

• Add a credit card on the console because the app doesn’t support it

• Download NHL 25 — painfully slow, despite strong Wi-Fi

• Sign up for an EA Sports account just to play (why can’t I use my Xbox login?)

• Buy GTA V (again) because the 360 version doesn’t work — another huge download

• Get hit with yet another prompt to create a Rockstar Games account… I declined

All I wanted to do was play a game. What used to be a quick Friday night trip to Family Video and instant gameplay is now hours of downloads, logins, and unnecessary account creation. Every step felt like it was designed by someone who never actually used the product.

It reminded me how easy it is developing a product to forget what our users are actually trying to do. We layer on features, integrations, and business objectives, KPIs, but forget to ask: are we helping someone get to their “play” faster? That’s the bar. Get out of the way and let people play.