I recently learned about Netflix’s two-minute rule, and honestly, I feel mildly personally attacked.

Apparently, if you watch more than two minutes of a show or movie, Netflix counts it as a view. Two minutes. That’s it. Congratulations, you’ve watched the thing. Your data has spoken. The algorithm has decided. You are in.

Excuse me?

Two minutes into most shows I’m still:

• adjusting the pillow situation
• deciding if I want a blanket or don’t want to commit to a blanket yet
• checking if the dog needs something
• wondering if I should have poured the wine first

But Netflix has already logged me as emotionally invested.

This feels eerily similar to the old five-second rule. You know the one. Food falls on the floor, we all look around like we’re in a heist movie, count quickly, and decide it doesn’t count. Germs respect time limits. Logic bows to convenience. We eat the cookie.

Now Netflix is doing the same thing, but with storytelling. Two minutes fall on the couch and suddenly Netflix notes that you watched this.

No. I sampled it. I sniffed it. I hovered.

Let’s be honest. Two minutes into a show is usually:

• opening credits
• sweeping drone shot of a city
• a mysterious character staring out a window
• music that’s trying very hard to tell me how to feel

Nothing has happened yet. No one has betrayed anyone. No twist has twisted. I don’t even know who I’m supposed to root for.

And yet. Yes, view counted.

What makes this especially funny is that in real life, we often believe the opposite. We’re told first impressions matter. You meet someone and supposedly, in the first minute or two, you know. Chemistry. Vibes. Gut instinct.

And yes, sometimes that’s true.

But also? Sometimes it’s wildly wrong.

I’ve met people who seemed charming for two minutes and exhausting by minute twenty. I’ve met others who needed a full episode arc to warm up quiet, awkward, slow burners who turned out to be excellent humans.

Netflix wants me to commit emotionally in two minutes. Meanwhile, my nervous system says “I need at least one full episode and maybe a snack.“

That said, and here’s where I contradict myself because growth, I will admit something uncomfortable.

There are times when I know in 30 seconds with a human.

Thirty seconds is enough to know:

• if someone interrupts constantly
• if they listen
• if they drain the room
• if my shoulders tense for no reason

So maybe that’s the real issue. Not that two minutes is too short for Netflix. It’s that time works differently depending on what’s at stake.

Entertainment? I need time. Let the plot develop. Let me settle in. Let me see if this is a slow burn or just bad writing with ambition.

People? My instincts are ruthless and efficient. I don’t need opening credits. I don’t need a soundtrack. My body runs the data faster than any algorithm.

Netflix is counting views. I’m counting energy.

And here’s the deeper, sneakier truth. We’re living in a world that wants quick metrics for complex experiences. Two minutes. Five seconds. Swipe left. Click away. Decide now.

But some things such as good stories, meaningful relationships, self-understanding, don’t reveal themselves on a stopwatch.

So Netflix, respectfully, I reject your two-minute judgment. I will continue to abandon shows 12 minutes in with zero guilt. And no, I did not “watch” it. I auditioned it.

As for people? I’ll trust my gut. Sometimes it takes two minutes. Sometimes thirty seconds. Sometimes years.

But unlike Netflix, I reserve the right to change my mind.

And I will always take my coat off first.