Some tools are built to help us grow; to learn, connect, or reach meaningful goals. But eventually, we might ask: are these tools still working for us, or have they hooked us and quietly turned us into their tool?
This question has been on my mind since I started using Duolingo seventy-six days ago. I had just returned from a trip to Finland and wanted to keep learning a bit of Finnish: nothing too intense, just some gentle exposure to the language each day. From what others had said, Duolingo seemed like the ideal tool.
I started on the free version. It offered just enough. However, I was soon being nudged constantly toward the premium upgrade. Eventually, I gave in and accepted the offer of a 7-day trial. Before I knew it, £68.99 was taken from my account. Dagh! I had forgotten to cancel in time. That was frustrating. But what I noticed next was fascinating.
Over time, I realised I was no longer using Duolingo to expand my learning outside of the app. I was using it to keep my streak alive inside it.
It works. And it works well. But it also works against us (and our bigger picture aspirations).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N8tC3VtbgSk
The Hook Model in Action
This shift in behaviour mirrors the “Hook Model” described by Nir Eyal in his book Hooked, which outlines how habit-forming products are designed to draw us in and keep us there.
The hook model follows a four-step cycle:
Trigger – External cues like notifications or internal ones like guilt or fear of missing out.
Action – The easiest possible behaviour in response to the trigger, like opening the app or doing a lesson.
Variable Reward – Unpredictable reinforcement like badges, praise, or social validation that keeps us engaged.
Investment – The time, energy, or money we’ve already poured into the product, which makes it harder to walk away.
This system is incredibly effective at building engagement, but it often does so by subtly shifting our focus from what we originally cared about to what keeps the platform profitable.
When the Tool Hooks Us
What starts as a helpful tool can morph into a system that prioritises retention over transformation.
Only 0.1% of Duolingo users ever complete a full course. That isn’t a design flaw; it’s the business model. The goal is not to help us complete something, but to keep us inside the ecosystem.
Duolingo began nudging me toward other courses I hadn’t asked for. Music theory. Chess. It was no longer about Finnish. It was about keeping me engaged, clicking, and coming back.
This is when a tool becomes a trap, not because it stops working, but because it starts working too well at the wrong thing (keeping us engaged).
From Motivation to Manipulation
This isn’t just about language apps. It’s about how many of our digital experiences are shaped by systems designed to extract our wealth and capture our attention, energy, and even our identity.
In Punished by Rewards, Alfie Kohn warns that external motivators like badges, praise, or pizza vouchers for reading not only influence behaviour but also diminish it. Over time, we stop asking “Why do I care about this?” and instead ask “What do I get for it?”
In The Burnout Society, philosopher Byung-Chul Han argues that we have shifted from a culture of external discipline to one of internalised self-optimisation. We no longer rely on a manager or teacher to pressure us; instead, we pressure ourselves. Rest is viewed as a failure. Play is considered wasted time. Self-worth is now linked to productivity.
Apps like Duolingo thrive in this cultural moment. They don’t just support our goals; they reshape them. We start wanting to learn a language and end up wanting to maintain a streak. What once felt like growth begins to feel like a contract we’re stuck in.
The Rocket Booster Test
Good tools (as well as teachers, programs, coaches, therapists, etc) should be like solid rocket boosters: they help us launch,