During a recent work trip, my friend Hari visited London, and after a long day, we decided to take an evening stroll through one of my favorite parts of the city. We kicked things off at DoubleTree by Hilton London – Tower of London, walking along Three Quays Walk, Sugar Quay, and Grant Quay before stepping onto the iconic London Bridge just as the sun began to set, casting golden hues over the Thames. From there, we wandered through Queen’s Quay and London Bridge Pier, heading toward More London Place—home to the EY office where I used to work, which brought back a wave of nostalgia.
Our walk eventually led us to Vapiano for some Italian dinner, where we reminisced about old times and dived into discussions about work, life, and, of course, books. Out of the million and one topics we covered, books stole the spotlight for a while—Hari shared his latest reads and his love for audiobooks, explaining how they help him stay consistent at the gym, while I talked about my recent rediscovery of the UK’s library system and how I had finally reinstated my long-lost reading habit.
As the conversation unfolded, Hari brought up the Goodreads app. That name rang a bell—I had an account there once upon a time. During my college days, back when I was a more dedicated reader, Goodreads was my go-to place to track books and explore recommendations. I was active on the platform around the time Amazon acquired it, and for a while, it seemed like an exciting space for book lovers.
Goodreads, founded in 2007, was built on a simple but powerful premise: a social network for readers to discover, review, and discuss books. Amazon saw potential and acquired it in 2013. The move made sense—Amazon has always been obsessed with creating massive, user-generated content repositories, much like their acquisition of IMDb to dominate the movie information space. By owning Goodreads, Amazon secured a treasure trove of user-driven book ratings, reviews, and metadata, strengthening its grip on the book ecosystem.
However, while Goodreads has remained an essential tool for readers, its user experience has been frozen in time. The app functions well, has a vast catalog of books and authors, and boasts an incredibly dedicated user base. But the UI? That’s another story. It still carries the aesthetics of the early 2010s—sepia-toned, somewhat clunky, and far from optimized for today’s high-resolution screens and sleek design standards.
For a platform backed by Amazon, you’d expect better. The design choices may be nostalgic for some, evoking an old-school bookish charm, but they fail to provide the seamless, visually appealing experience modern apps demand. While competitors with better interfaces have emerged, none have yet matched Goodreads’ community engagement and data depth. And so, despite its outdated look and feel, readers keep coming back.
Goodreads continues to be a diamond in the rough—an essential tool for book lovers that desperately needs a makeover. It remains useful, but its potential is far from fully realized. One can only hope that, at some point, Amazon will invest in bringing it up to modern standards. Until then, we’ll keep scrolling through its dated interface, hoping it looks as good as it reads one day. Despite its flaws, I still find myself using Goodreads to track my reading journey. If you’re on there too, feel free to connect with me here.
Side note: It’s great to see that WordPress has a Goodreads embed module—though, as expected, the aesthetics leave much to be desired.
