学習者の洞察 Why People Quit Anki

Introduction

For language learners, Anki is, and will continue to be, an invaluable flashcard tool for memorizing vocabulary and grammar rules. With its rigorously tested spaced-repetition algorithm, cross-platform sync, and near-infinite customizability, Anki attacks forgetting like chemotherapy attacks cancer. The pitch is compelling: study a little every day, trust the algorithm, and words will stick forever. Thousands of successful Japanese learners swear by it.

And yet — an enormous number of learners quit Anki, with many quitting more than once. Not just in the first week, but often after months of genuine effort. The learners built decks, downloaded shared collections, dug deep enough to learn what ease factors and leech cards mean, and still walked away.

After reviewing extensive discussions in online language communities, it's clear that common frustrations with Anki stand out. What follows is an objective breakdown of what's driving users away and how expectations for Anki — and for Japanese language learning as a whole — might be better managed.

The Science of Spaced Repetition

To understand why Anki burns people out, it helps to understand what it's actually doing. Spaced repetition is built on one of the most replicated findings in cognitive psychology: the spacing effect. Information reviewed at increasing intervals is far better retained than information reviewed repeatedly in one session.

How It Works in Theory

Why the Theory Collides With Reality

The science is sound. The problem is that Anki's algorithm was designed to be used every single day, forever, with little tolerance for missed sessions, growing decks, or the chaotic texture of a real human life. The gap between what the tool requires and what people can actually sustain is where most of the frustration lives. If you live your life around Anki, the algorithm works flawlessly. If not, the countdown to quitting Anki has begun. Similar to how streak anxiety becomes a primary factor in why users quit Duolingo, the disconnect between real-life and Anki-life forces many Japanese learners to walk away.

1 Review Pile Overwhelm

This is the one that kills more Anki routines than anything else. When you start with Anki, adding 10 or 20 new cards a day feels manageable — exciting, even. But every new card creates future reviews. So many Anki users, caught up in the excitement of a new deck, start trying to binge-learn 30, 40, or 50 new cards a day. And then those reviews start to compound. Miss a single day, and your review count doubles. Miss a weekend, and you return Monday to 600 due cards staring back at you.

"I'm about to throw in the towel because I can't keep up with the reviews anymore. Yesterday I reviewed 1671 cards, which took me all day."

This isn't an edge case — it's the mathematical reality of how Anki works. The algorithm assumes daily engagement. Each missed session doesn't just pause your progress; it actively punishes you by front-loading all the cards that were due. For learners who are busy, traveling, or simply human, the pile becomes a wall.

2 Card Creation Paralysis

Many learners who've heard the advice "make your own cards" quickly discover that it takes significant time and energy to do it well. A high-quality sentence card for a single Japanese word — with a handpicked example sentence, audio, furigana, and an image — can take 5 to 10 minutes to build. Creating even a small deck becomes a project in itself.

"I used to spend too much of my study time on Anki: 30–45 minutes of reviews and then up to an hour of making new cards. I had less time to engage with listening to and reading with Japanese."

The irony is cruel: the time you pour into building cards is time you're not spending reading, listening, or speaking. Pre-made decks like Core 2k/6k or Tango N5 solve this problem, but introduce their own frustration — sentences that feel randomly chosen, vocabulary that doesn't match what you're actually learning, and no connection to content you care about.

3 Ease Hell

Ease hell is one of Anki's most notorious failure modes, and most new users walk right into it. Here's how it works: every time you press "Hard" or "Again" on a card, Anki lowers that card's ease factor — a multiplier that determines how quickly the review interval grows. Once a card's ease factor drops to 130% (the floor), it can never recover under default settings. You'll see that card far more frequently than necessary, forever.

"Been an enthusiastic user for over 6 years, but only ever read any guides in the last few days. Just learned of the concept 'ease hell'…if large parts of your deck have low ease ratings, it can be literally multiple times more reviews than you need."

Learners in ease hell work harder than they need to, see the same cards over and over, and never feel like they're making progress — because many of their cards are genuinely stuck. This is a solvable technical problem (the FSRS algorithm largely eliminates it), but most beginners have no idea it exists until they're already burned out.

4 No Real Context

Flashcards are, by nature, decontextualized. A card shows you 食べる on one side and "to eat" on the other. You flip it a few hundred times and start to feel like you know the word. But language doesn't work that way. In real Japanese, 食べる appears in sentences, attached to particles, modified by tense and politeness levels, with implied subjects and cultural assumptions baked in.

"Even though I would have aced a vocabulary test if I were still at school, I don't think it improved my language so much considering the time I put in."

Vocabulary isolated from context is fragile knowledge. Learners who rely heavily on Anki often discover this the hard way — performing well in their reviews yet struggling to understand natural Japanese in the wild. The word they've reviewed 50 times doesn't register when they encounter it surrounded by other words in a sentence they haven't seen before.

5 The Intimidating Setup

Ask anyone who's tried to configure Anki from scratch, and they'll describe an experience that feels more like installing developer software than using a study app. Deck options, learning steps, graduating intervals, ease modifiers, relearning steps, FSRS vs SM-2 — the number of settings that can meaningfully affect your learning experience is staggering.

"I've been thinking about using Anki again, but once again I'm running into the same problem I've had for the last 6 years: I don't know what settings to use!"

The community's response to this problem is a sprawling ecosystem of guides, YouTube tutorials, Reddit threads, and add-on packs — each subtly contradicting the others, each assuming a different level of technical literacy. A beginner just trying to study Japanese vocabulary shouldn't need to understand algorithm parameters to get started.

Zero-Config Alternatives

6 Isolated Vocabulary

There's a fundamental tension at the heart of Anki: the words you add to your deck reflect what you think you'll need, not necessarily what the language actually requires. Many learners spend months building and reviewing decks full of words they almost never encounter in natural content — colors, school subjects, food categories — while neglecting the high-frequency connective tissue of the language.

"When I used Anki I felt like I knew a bunch of facts but didn't understand how anything really worked…any real-world conceptual question stumped the hell out of me — so I stopped."

Learners who pivot from Anki to immersive reading — consuming native Japanese content with vocabulary lookup tools — often report a counterintuitive result: they encounter more of their target vocabulary in a single chapter of a novel than in an entire Anki session. The words appear in sentences, stories, and conversations. They acquire not just the translation but the feel of the word.

7 The Guilt Trap

Anki's daily-review model creates a peculiar psychological dynamic. Unlike Duolingo, which nudges you playfully and forgives missed days without much consequence, Anki punishes absence with a mathematical backlog. The emotional weight of 400 overdue cards can feel like a debt that's impossible to repay.

"I began to dread opening up Anki and seeing how many minutes it would be until I finished my reviews, especially if I had missed a day. I stopped reading in Japanese as much because I felt that I needed to prioritise flashcards instead."

Many learners describe Anki as a source of anxiety rather than accomplishment. They're no longer doing reviews because they enjoy learning — they're doing them to avoid the bad feeling of not doing them. This is extrinsic motivation at its most corrosive. When the bad feeling eventually outweighs the good, quitting becomes a relief.

8 No Listening or Speaking

Anki is a reading and writing tool. Even cards with audio are fundamentally visual — you look at a prompt and retrieve an answer. This creates a lopsided set of language skills that leaves many learners ill-equipped for the actual experience of using Japanese with other people.

"I tried to use Anki to re-learn some French…I'd sit on the train testing myself on vocabulary. It helped a bit, but I didn't magically learn to speak French! That's basically because I never tried to produce any French at that time."

Listening comprehension and speaking ability are skills that require practice, distinct from flashcard recall. A learner can have 5,000 words in their Anki deck and still struggle to understand natural speech, where words blend together, pitch accent shifts meaning, and hesitation sounds fill every pause. Anki builds vocabulary in isolation from the phonological reality of the language.

9 The Illusion of Progress

Anki gives you a lot of numbers: cards reviewed, retention rate, days studied, cards mature. These metrics are engaging in the same way a fitness tracker is engaging — they feel like evidence that something is happening. But high Anki stats don't directly translate to language ability, and the gap between the two can be jarring.

"I have around 40,000 cards and have done over half a million repetitions over the last 6 years. Burnout was what made me think there must be a better way."

Progress in language learning is genuinely hard to measure. Anki's numbers feel like a proxy for progress, but they're really measuring how well you can perform on Anki — a skill that's related to, but distinct from, actually knowing Japanese. When learners eventually test their real-world ability and find it wanting, the mismatch between the statistics and reality can be deeply discouraging.

10 Missing the Joy of Language

This is perhaps the quietest reason — and the one most learners don't name directly. People start learning Japanese because of anime, manga, music, travel, friendship, curiosity about a culture they love. The motivation is deeply personal and tied to experiences that feel alive and meaningful.

"It seemed as if my Japanese study was being entirely dictated by Anki reviews and not any of the more exciting stuff. So at that time, sticking with Anki didn't feel like the sensible choice, and I stopped using it."

Anki, by design, strips language down to its most abstract form — isolated words and their translations. There is nothing wrong with this as a technique. But when Anki consumes the study time that could be spent on native content, when it becomes the whole of your language learning rather than one tool among many, it severs the connection to the thing that made you want to learn in the first place.

Frequently Asked Questions