You\u2019re reading something on your phone when the screen suddenly goes dark. An ad has swallowed the whole page. You hunt for the little \u201cX\u201d to close it \u2014 and there isn\u2019t one. Not yet, anyway.<\/p>\n
So you wait. Five seconds. Ten. Finally the close button shows up, usually tucked in some corner where your thumb has to go searching.<\/p>\n
These tricks even have a name. The people who build websites call them \u201cdark patterns\u201d \u2014 screens engineered to nudge you into doing something you never meant to do. Click here, subscribe there, hand over a few more dollars before you catch on.<\/p>\n
And they work. In September 2025, the Federal Trade Commission<\/a> landed a $2.5 billion settlement with Amazon over exactly this kind of thing. More on that in a minute.<\/p>\n I\u2019ve spent decades watching companies find clever ways to separate people from their cash. Here\u2019s the good news: Once you can spot these traps, they lose most of their teeth. Here are six to watch for.<\/p>\n 1. The vanishing close button<\/p>\n This is the one you already know. The ad covers your screen, and the \u201cX\u201d simply isn\u2019t there. You sit and count to 10 like a kid in time-out, waiting for it to appear.<\/p>\n Why the delay? Because every extra second you stare at the pitch is a second they\u2019re hoping you\u2019ll cave and click.<\/p>\n The sneakiest versions show you two X\u2019s \u2014 one in each corner. Guess wrong, and instead of closing the ad, you\u2019ve launched straight into whatever it was selling.<\/p>\n Don\u2019t tap anything until the real close button appears. If a page hijacks your screen and won\u2019t let go, back out entirely. No article is worth a surprise download.<\/p>\n 2. The guilt-trip decline button<\/p>\n Designers have a nickname for this one too: \u201cconfirmshaming.\u201d You go to say no, and the only \u201cno\u201d option is written to make you feel like a fool. Stuff like \u201cNo thanks, I don\u2019t like saving money.\u201d<\/p>\n Amazon ran a version of this for years. To skip a Prime membership at checkout, you had to click past a button that said something close to \u201cNo, I don\u2019t want free shipping.\u201d Who clicks that?<\/p>\n That wording was part of the FTC case. Under the settlement, Amazon can\u2019t use buttons like it anymore.<\/p>\n Read the button before you tap. If declining an offer requires admitting you \u201cdon\u2019t want to save,\u201d that\u2019s your signal someone\u2019s playing games. Say no anyway.<\/p>\n 3. The box that\u2019s already checked<\/p>\n You\u2019re signing up for one thing. Buried near the bottom sits a tiny pre-checked box \u2014 a warranty, a membership, a donation, a newsletter that sells your email. You didn\u2019t check it. They did.<\/p>\n Leave it alone, and you\u2019ve agreed to something you never wanted.<\/p>\n Before you hit submit on any form, scan for checkboxes. Uncheck anything you didn\u2019t deliberately turn on. It takes five seconds and can save you real money.<\/p>\n Quick aside \u2014 most internet financial advice comes from people who weren\u2019t alive during the last recession. I\u2019ve been writing about money for more than 35 years. Want rock-solid advice? Sign up for the free Money Talks Newsletter<\/a>. Takes 10 seconds. No fluff. No spam.<\/p>\n 4. The cancellation maze<\/p>\n Signing up takes one click. Canceling takes an act of Congress. This trick has a name in the industry \u2014 the \u201croach motel.\u201d Easy to check in, nearly impossible to check out.<\/p>\n Amazon is the poster child. The FTC said the company tricked millions into Prime memberships, then buried the exit behind a cancellation process so long that Amazon staff reportedly nicknamed it \u201cIliad,\u201d after Homer\u2019s endless epic.<\/p>\n The price tag for all that? That $2.5 billion settlement \u2014 a $1 billion penalty plus $1.5 billion in refunds to roughly 35 million customers, some getting up to $51 back.<\/p>\n Before you ever subscribe, find the cancel button. If you can\u2019t figure out how to quit before you join, don\u2019t join. The same logic applies to every recurring charge already on your statement, which is why it pays to cancel the subscriptions you\u2019re not using<\/a> before they stack up.<\/p>\n 5. The fees that show up at the finish line<\/p>\n You see one price for most of your shopping trip. The hotel room is $99. The concert ticket is $40. Then you reach checkout and the number balloons \u2014 \u201cresort fee,\u201d \u201cservice fee,\u201d \u201cprocessing fee.\u201d This is called \u201cdrip pricing,\u201d and it banks on you being too far in to bail.<\/p>\n