The True Underestimated Cost of Free: Invisible Labor, Visible Entitlement
As you may know, I started my business in 1995. A few years later, I gave up my fancy-dancy gym membership at Equinox. (You know…cashflow and all - LOL!) But I didn’t give up working out.
At first, I swapped my gym classes for African dance and the occasional yoga session. Then I started running.
I ran in Prospect Park, all year round, and on my own schedule — not someone else’s. These days, running has become speed walking, but I still log 12-16 miles per week.
About six years ago, both my primary care physician and gynecologist started encouraging me to strength train. I wasn’t as consistent with that as I was with getting my loops in.
That is, until about three years ago, when I was introduced to Juice & Toya — LA-based fitness trainers with a YouTube channel that now has more than 2 million subscribers. I remember when they first crossed 1 million!
I work out with them 3x a week and have paid to join a few of their challenge programs. In short: I absolutely adore them!
Earlier this week, they sent an email apologizing for the number of ads showing up in their YouTube videos — and generously offered a free month on their Juice & Toya app so folks could work out ad-free.
Like I said: generous.
But also...why are people giving them a hard time about ads “interrupting” their workouts — when they’re working out for FREE?
Don’t like the ads? Upgrade to YouTube Premium. Or support them by subscribing to their app.
Honestly, I was annoyed for them!
Because what this situation really reveals is how little people appreciate the trade-offs that come with consuming free content.
It’s as if we forget — or refuse to acknowledge — that someone’s labor, expertise, and time made that content possible.
The Rise of Free Content
The whole idea of “free content” really took off in the early 2000s. As the internet exploded, so did the number of creators — bloggers, artists, coaches of all types, fitness trainers, financial gurus (now called influencers) — sharing their work online to build a community, earn trust, and yes, eventually generate income. The model was simple: give value upfront, monetize later through ads, donations, or paid upgrades.
But over time, this well-intentioned exchange quietly shifted consumer behavior.
Instead of seeing free content as a generous offer, many began expecting it as the norm — and bristling when reminded that there’s a cost somewhere, whether through ads, subscriptions, or memberships.
Add in today’s always-on digital world, and the expectations grow even trickier: people want more content, more often, with less friction — and they want it for free.
So when people like Juice & Toya — who show up consistently, deliver real value, and already offer a ton for free — receive complaints about something as basic as ads? Whew.
That says more about us as consumers than it does about them as creators…and entrepreneurs.
And it made me wonder: would the people complaining about the ads be okay if their own talent, time, and labor were being undervalued or dismissed?
Probably not!
Then Comes the Backlash
It also raises a harder, more uncomfortable question: Who gets to ask for money without backlash?
We’ve all seen the double standard — how some people can charge confidently and be praised for it, while others (especially women, Black and Brown folks, and creators outside traditional industries) are expected to give, give, give…and apologize if they dare ask for more.
In this way, entitlement isn’t just a personal attitude; it’s a cultural pattern shaped by bias and power.
Look, I admit: I’m sure part of my annoyance on their behalf is also influenced by what I’ve experienced first-hand and what clients have shared with me about theirs — including as recently as last week’s pricing masterclass — when it comes to being paid for their work.
But, Here’s an Invitation
The early 2000s may have ushered in the explosion of “free content.” A quarter of a century later, though, there’s another shift that is afoot — thanks in large part to the algorithms of social media platforms…that we as creators don’t own!
It’s why I and many of my friends, clients, and colleagues, are being (even more) intentional and strategic about the content we create for free consumption vs. when we charge for access.
Which brings me to a few questions I often ask myself — and invite you to ask, too:
Am I engaging with this person’s work through the lens of appreciation — or assumption?
If this were my labor, would I feel respected?
Have I supported this creator, educator, or business in a way that aligns with the value I’ve received? (Btw: “compensation” doesn’t have to necessarily be in the form of money: it could be a “like; comment; share/forward; review/recommendation.” Currency shows up in a lot of different ways!
Where might I be holding someone to a standard I wouldn’t want applied to me?
These aren’t just questions for how we consume content — they’re also relevant when we reflect on how we price our work, advocate for ourselves, and define what a fair exchange looks like in our own lives and businesses.
So here’s my invitation:
🧭 Pay attention to the invisible transactions you’re part of every day.
💸 Respect the ask — yours and others’.
🧠 And when something is offered for free, remember: that doesn’t mean it’s without cost.
About Jacquette
I love to ask questions and spark aha moments. I love to talk about why success with money is about more than just the numbers, and how the cultural impact on the intersection of money, business, and life matters–A LOT! And, I really hope I help people feel seen, heard, and not judged—especially since money is emotional and personal.
