Over the weekend, Netflix unfurled another great show. I would love to chat with you about it, but we — all of us, this sprawling TV-watching nation — have implicitly signed the same secret pact: #nospoilers.

Here is what I can say: The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, the newest vessel of glee from Tina Fey, is a remarkable bit of programming— a clever traditional comedy in an era when clever traditional comedies are scarce. Also, it stars the delightful Ellie Kemper. What else? Um… there are 13 half-hour episodes.

But now, I must stop talking. If I say anything more, the spoiler pact would be broken, and only those few who have watched the entire season would continue reading. At that point, this treatise would become a recap — an ugly word for these confusing times.

House of Cards is an even more volatile situation. The new season of that enthralling series has been available for nearly two weeks, but no one dares speak of its plot details on Twitter. Trust me: You will need to enter the witness protection program if you mention that Claire Underwood is now the sitting vice president of Russia.

Haha — not even true!

But you see the problem: We can’t talk about buzzy Netflix shows because our schedules are out of sync. The rough expectations for knowing if your friends are on episode 12 or episode 1 have been destroyed. Netflix thinks it has performed a noble act by releasing the entire season en masse, but it has actually wreaked havoc on the best part of television: talking about television.

We have seen this happen before: In attempting to fix something, technology actually broke something. Netflix broke the unbreakable social rules for how we talk about television in the age of social media.