How to Design Cursed CAPTCHAs: My 3 Funniest Ideas

We’ve all been there. You’re trying to log into an account, buy a concert ticket, or post a comment, and suddenly you’re faced with a digital gatekeeper: the CAPTCHA. “Select all squares with a traffic light,” it commands, showing you a blurry, 144p image from a satellite that seems to be orbiting Mars. You squint, you guess, and you fail. “Please try again.”

The Completely Automated Public Turing test to tell Computers and Humans Apart. It’s a necessary evil in the fight against bots, but let’s be honest—it’s often a soul-crushing experience. But what if, instead of trying to make them less annoying, we leaned into the chaos? What if we designed CAPTCHAs not just to filter bots, but to inflict a mild amount of existential dread and confusion on our users?

Welcome to the world of cursed CAPTCHAs. This is, of course, a thought experiment. A journey into the heart of bad UX to understand what makes good UX shine. By exploring the most ridiculously user-hostile ideas, we can appreciate the principles of clarity, empathy, and respect we should be striving for. So, put on your black hat, and let’s design some digital nightmares.

So, What Makes a CAPTCHA “Cursed”?

A standard difficult CAPTCHA is just annoying. A cursed CAPTCHA is a different beast entirely. It’s not just about difficulty; it’s about psychological warfare. A truly cursed CAPTCHA has a few key ingredients:

• Subjectivity: It asks questions that have no single, objective answer.
• Emotional Labor: It requires the user to do more than just identify an object; it demands introspection or emotional processing.
• Gaslighting: It actively makes the user doubt their own perception or sanity.
• Niche Knowledge: It requires information that 99.9% of the population does not possess.

The goal isn't just to stop a bot; it's to make a human user pause, stare at their screen, and whisper, “...what?” With that in mind, here are my three favorite concepts for truly cursed CAPTCHAs.

My 3 Funniest (and Most Cursed) CAPTCHA Ideas

1. The Existential Crisis CAPTCHA

Forget identifying crosswalks. The Existential Crisis CAPTCHA wants to know who you really are. It trades simple object recognition for profound, unanswerable philosophical prompts. The goal is to make the user question their life choices just to prove they’re not a spam-bot from a server in Estonia.

How it works: The user is presented with a grid of abstract images, AI-generated art, or even just blank squares. The prompt is where the magic happens.

Example Prompts:

• “Select all squares containing a missed opportunity.”
• “Click on the image that best represents your relationship with your father.”
• “Draw the shape of the void left by your childhood pet.”
• “Identify the fragments of your dreams you’ve let slip away.”

Imagine trying to log into your bank account and being forced to confront the time you didn't apply for that dream job. You click a blurry image of a sunset. “Incorrect. Your regret is not palpable enough. Please try again.” The sheer emotional weight would stop anyone, human or bot, dead in their tracks.

The (Anti-)UX Lesson: This is the ultimate violation of user context. People come to a website to complete a task, not to have an impromptu therapy session. Good UX respects the user’s headspace. It demands that tasks be objective, clear, and devoid of emotional baggage. Unless you're designing an interactive art piece, don't make your users unpack their trauma to reset a password.

2. The “I Am Not a Lawyer” CAPTCHA

We all mindlessly click “I have read and agree to the Terms and Conditions” without reading a single word. This CAPTCHA weaponizes that universal guilt.

How it works: Instead of a grid of images, the CAPTCHA presents the user with a wall of text—a dense, jargon-filled excerpt from a legal document, scientific paper, or obscure philosophical text. The font is 6pt, the contrast is low, and the language is impenetrable.

Example Prompts:

• “From the provided text, highlight the clause that pertains to force majeure, specifically excluding metaphysical intervention.”
• “Select the sentence that defines the party of the second part’s indemnification obligations.”
• “Check the box if the following statement is logically sound: ‘All mimsy were the borogoves.’”

The user is forced to scan a document they can’t possibly comprehend, looking for a needle in a haystack of legalese. It’s a perfect simulation of being a first-year law student on two hours of sleep. It’s not testing if you’re a human; it’s testing if you have a law degree and a magnifying glass.

The (Anti-)UX Lesson: Good design is accessible. It doesn't require specialized knowledge or superhuman vision. Tasks should be solvable by the widest possible audience. Relying on jargon or expecting users to parse complex information for a simple verification step is the definition of user-hostile design. Make things simple, scannable, and clear. Your users don't have time to cross-examine your EULA.

3. The Gaslighting CAPTCHA

This is my personal favorite because it’s the most overtly malicious. The Gaslighting CAPTCHA isn’t just difficult; it actively tries to convince you that you’re wrong, that your senses are failing you, and that you might, in fact, be the robot.

How it works: It starts with a simple, familiar task, but then it introduces elements of doubt and deceit.

• Subtle Changes: The user is asked to “Select all images with a bicycle.” As their mouse hovers over the correct image, it subtly morphs into a unicycle. When they click, it fails them.
• Contradictory Feedback: The user correctly selects all the traffic lights. The CAPTCHA responds, “Are you sure? A real human would have noticed the bird sitting on top of one. Birds aren’t traffic lights. Please try again.”
• The Color Test: It shows the word “RED” written in blue text and asks, “Click the color blue.” Do you click the word or the color? Whatever you choose, it’s wrong.

This CAPTCHA doesn’t just verify; it judges. It belittles. It creates a feedback loop of pure frustration, making the user question their own perception of reality. After three failed attempts, you’re not just locked out of your account; you’re scheduling an appointment with an optometrist.

The (Anti-)UX Lesson: Trust is the single most important currency in UX. Users need to trust that the system will behave predictably and honestly. Feedback should be clear, direct, and helpful. When you intentionally mislead or trick your user, you break that trust. It might be funny once, but it erodes the foundation of a good user-product relationship. Be a reliable guide, not a mischievous trickster.

The Real Point of the Absurd

Okay, let’s take our black hats off. While it’s fun to imagine a web where every login screen is a miniature psychological thriller, these ideas highlight a serious point. They are the logical conclusion of a design process that forgets the human on the other side of the screen.

A good CAPTCHA—and by extension, any good UX—should be:

• Respectful of the user’s time and mental energy.
• Clear in its instructions and goals.
• Objective and universally understandable.
• Trustworthy in its feedback and behavior.

By imagining these cursed alternatives, we’re reminded of the core principles of empathetic design. The next time you’re squinting at a grainy picture of a bus, just be thankful it’s not asking you to identify your deepest insecurities. At least, not yet.

What’s the most cursed CAPTCHA you can think of? Share your terrible ideas in the comments below!