Why We’ll Pay for Almost Anything — Except Email
Most people think nothing of paying for everyday comforts, yet hesitate to spend even a few pounds protecting the email account that underpins their online identity.
Why I’m Writing This Now
Reading the comments and emails I receive, it’s clear many of my readers already understand the trade-offs.
They recognise that free email works — but that it isn’t free of consequence.
They understand that scale changes incentives.
That automation replaces human judgement.
That support models follow business models.
In other words, they see email as something worth evaluating, not just accepting.
That contrast is what prompted this article.
Because outside of this space, the default assumption still holds: email should cost nothing, and questioning that feels unnecessary.
The gap between those two views is wider than most people realise.
Why Paying for Email Feels Out of Place
What stands out isn’t that people choose free email. It’s how rarely paying for it is seriously considered.
In an earlier post, I described HEY as expensive. Some readers disagreed — not because it was cheap, but because they believed it justified its cost. To be clear, I wasn’t arguing that it wasn’t worth the price. Only that, compared to other platforms, it sits at the higher end of the market.
They pointed to:
The overall experience
The way the inbox is structured
The quality of support
That response wasn’t emotional. It was practical.
People will pay for something if they can see what they’re getting in return.
For many people, their primary email account is created during device setup or when signing into Google or Apple — not after comparing providers.
Email usually comes with something else. It comes with your phone, your browser login, or your main account. Most people don’t compare email providers the way they compare phone contracts, streaming services, or insurance.
So when a price is attached, it feels out of place.
Free email hides the trade-offs
Free email doesn’t eliminate cost. It shifts it.
Providers like Gmail and Yahoo operate at enormous scale — hundreds of millions, even billions, of accounts. At that level, issues are handled through automated spam filtering, automated account recovery systems, automated abuse detection, and standardised support flows. Human intervention exists, but it sits behind defined processes.
The trade-offs show up as:
Heavy automation
Limited manual review
Systems optimised for scale
Restricted escalation paths
At that scale, this model makes sense. It’s efficient and works for most users most of the time.
But if your issue falls outside the standard flow, getting individual attention can be difficult.
When you don’t pay directly, you’re part of a system designed for consistency and scale before individual resolution.
That isn’t criticism. It’s how large platforms operate.
Support and reliability are part of the equation
Most people don’t choose an email provider based on support. They assume they’ll never need it.
Experience has taught me that support only becomes visible when something goes wrong — and by then, switching providers isn’t simple.
When problems happen, they aren’t minor inconveniences.
An account lockout can block access to everything else.
Compromised credentials can trap you in recovery loops.
Delivery failures can stop critical messages from arriving.
These situations aren’t rare.
When they happen, the difference between automated systems and accessible human support becomes clear.
Paid services don’t guarantee perfection. What they often provide instead is:
Faster escalation
Clearer accountability
A defined support path
A business model where the user is the customer
You’re not paying for cosmetic features.
You’re paying for a clearer line of responsibility when something goes wrong.
A Real Example: When Forwarding Broke
I experienced this first-hand while I was a HEY customer.
At the time, their forwarding setup wasn’t handling authentication correctly. SPF alignment was off, DMARC behaviour wasn’t where it needed to be, and forwarded messages were failing in ways they shouldn’t have been. I documented the issue in more detail in a separate post.
Forwarding is deceptively complex. Getting SRS, DKIM preservation, and DMARC alignment right takes experience, especially for a newer provider.
What mattered wasn’t the flaw. It was the response.
When I raised it, I dealt directly with an engineer. The conversation was technical, open, and straightforward. They acknowledged the weakness, worked through it, and fixed it.
There was no defensiveness. No scripted deflection. Just a willingness to improve.
That’s what good support looks like.
Not perfection — but responsiveness, honesty, and accountability.
In this case, a delivery flaw became proof that they were prepared to listen and improve. That’s the kind of support model worth paying attention to.
Why email still feels too cheap to invest in
Email has an unusual position.
It is essential.
It is deeply integrated.
It controls access to almost everything else.
Yet it doesn’t feel like a major decision.
It feels default.
As long as it works quietly in the background, the assumption that it should cost nothing seems reasonable.
Only when access is lost, delayed, or compromised does the dependency become visible.
I’ve written separately about how I think about email — not just as communication, but as the control layer for digital identity. That perspective shapes how I evaluate providers and the idea of paying for them.
Does it take a major failure to change minds?
Often, yes.
Large breaches, prolonged outages, or high-profile failures tend to change behaviour more effectively than argument ever will.
Not because people suddenly become technical — but because the dependency becomes visible.
Most people don’t think about email until something breaks.
And when it breaks, it affects everything connected to it.
The real question
Free email works. That isn’t in dispute.
The question is whether most people have ever stopped to consider what they are relying on.
Email underpins identity, account recovery, authentication, contracts, and long-term access. It is the control layer for almost everything else online.
Yet it’s rarely evaluated with the same scrutiny as hosting, insurance, financial services, or business software.
So the real question isn’t:
Is paid email worth it?
It’s:
Why does paying for email feel unreasonable when paying for almost anything else doesn’t?
That disconnect is worth examining — because email isn’t optional. It’s foundational.
And foundational systems deserve more thought than they usually receive.
