GTA+ Is a Scam for People Who Can’t Tell Time (Or Money)
Look, I get it. You’re a grown adult with a 9-to-5, a crippling caffeine addiction, and exactly 47 minutes of free time between doomscrolling and crying in the shower. You log into Grand Theft Auto Online, hoping to escape the crushing weight of late-stage capitalism, only to realize you’re grinding for virtual cash to buy a virtual car that costs more than your actual rent. But Rockstar Games, in their infinite wisdom, has decided you’re not suffering enough. Enter GTA+: a monthly subscription that costs $5.99 and promises to make your fake life marginally less miserable. And somehow, people are paying for it.
Let’s break this down like a Reddit AITA post where the OP is clearly the asshole but refuses to admit it. GTA+, launched in 2022, is Rockstar’s attempt to monetize the last bastion of fun in your gaming library. For the low, low price of a Starbucks latte (or a third of a Chipotle burrito, depending on your financial ruin), you get “exclusive” perks: a free car every month (usually something that looks like it was designed by a committee of 12-year-olds), a paltry $500,000 in fake currency (which buys you, like, half a tire), and some bonus missions that feel like they were written by an intern who just discovered the word “synergy.”
But here’s the kicker: the game isn’t even free. You already paid $60–$70 for the base game, or maybe you grabbed it on Steam Sale for $14.99, which is still more than zero. And now Rockstar wants you to pay a monthly subscription to access content that, in any sane universe, would be a free update or a $10 DLC. It’s like buying a house, then paying the previous owner a monthly fee to use the toilet. But sure, keep giving them money, champ.
Let’s talk about the “value proposition,” because I’ve seen less cope in a r/relationship_advice thread. The free car is usually a reskinned version of a car you already own, but this one has a different paint job and a spoiler that screams “I peaked in high school.” The $500,000 is laughable when you consider that a single high-end supercar costs $3 million in-game, and you’ll need to grind for four years to afford it—unless you buy a Shark Card, which is another scam entirely. And the “bonus missions”? They’re just repackaged contact missions from 2015, but now they have a shiny “GTA+ Exclusive” badge, because Rockstar knows you’ve got the memory of a goldfish with a concussion.
The worst part? The subscription doesn’t even include access to GTA Online itself. You still need to buy the game separately. It’s like Netflix charging you for a subscription, but then also charging you to use your TV. And if you cancel? You lose everything you “earned” that month—the car, the money, the dignity. It’s the gaming equivalent of a payday loan, but at least a payday loan doesn’t make you drive across Los Santos for 20 minutes to pick up a virtual t-shirt.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: “But bro, it’s only six bucks. I spend more on DoorDash fees for a single sad burger.” And yeah, you’re right. But that’s the trap. Rockstar knows you’ll rationalize it because it’s “small.” It’s the same logic that makes you buy a $5.99 in-app purchase for a game you’ll delete next week. And once you’re locked in, they’ll slowly increase the price, reduce the rewards, and add a battle pass that costs $15, because why not? This is the same company that made you buy a penthouse in GTA Online for $6 million, then charged you $1 million just to start a heist. They’re not your friends. They’re the guy at the casino who hands you a free drink while your bank account slowly implodes.
But let’s not forget the real kicker: GTA+ is basically a beta test for Rockstar’s grand plan to turn all their games into subscription services. You think Red Dead Redemption 2 is safe? Think again. RDR2+ is coming, baby. For $9.99 a month, you can unlock the ability to brush your horse 10% faster, or maybe get a free hat that makes you look like a depressed cowboy. And don’t even get me started on what they’ll do to Bully. “Bully 2: Now With Monthly Fees for Wedgies.”
The sad part? People are defending this. I’ve seen threads on r/GTA where users unironically argue that $5.99 is a steal because “you get a car and money.” My brother in Christ, you’re paying for pixels. You’re paying to play a game you already own, for content that should be free, from a company that made over $7 billion from GTA V alone. Rockstar doesn’t need your six bucks. They need a reality check. But instead, they’re getting your credit card info.
So, AITA for saying GTA+ is a scam? No, but you might be if you’re paying for it. It’s the gaming equivalent of buying a timeshare in a swamp. You’ll get a few months of fun, then realize you’re stuck with a virtual burden you can’t sell, and the only way out is to cancel and admit you made a mistake. But hey, at least you’ll have that exclusive car skin that nobody else cares about. Congrats, you played yourself.
Final Thoughts
Having parsed the recurring cycles of Rockstar’s monetization strategies, GTA+ feels less like a premium membership and more like a calculated tax on player impatience—a system designed to nickle-and-dime the very community that made the franchise a cultural juggernaut. While the monthly perks offer a modest convenience for grind-weary veterans, the true value proposition remains glaringly hollow unless you’re already addicted to the game’s endless chase for digital property. Ultimately, GTA+ is a cleverly packaged subscription for a world that’s already a casino, and I suspect its existence is merely a stress test for the far more predatory economy awaiting us in GTA VI.