As an early-50-something, I’m at the state-sanctioned age for getting irritated by other people’s language. I haven’t reached the grammar-correcting stage, and have yet to send my first letter to The Times, but there’s no mistaking the early pangs of annoyance provoked by what people say. I don’t want to ‘circle back’, ‘reach out’ or ‘touch base’; I’m rankled by anything ‘artisanal’ or ‘curated’ (unless found in a museum or gallery), and the only thing I’m ‘manifesting’ is an end to that word. But these are just buzzwords and clichés. I don’t like them, but they don’t especially intrude on my life.
There is one word, however, that I loathe at a quite visceral level. I encounter it every day – probably every hour of every day that I’m looking at a screen – and it drives me to distraction. It is a deceitful and mocking word; a word that has been gaslighting me for over two decades. And I’m calling it out: Unsubscribe.
Unsubscribe here.
Unsubscribe from this newsletter.
Unsubscribe in one click.
If you no longer wish to receive notifications like this, unsubscribe at any time.
Unsubscribe. Un-SUBSCRIBE. UNSUBSCRIBE!! Goddam, I hate that word. It’s a linguistic cockroach; ugly and everywhere. Heck, I can’t even remove it from the bottom of this email. But what enrages me most is that it’s a little liar. I can’t UN-subscribe to something I never subscribed to. And yet, by clicking that crummy link, I’m trapped in a forced confession. Ooh, it gets me so angry I need to make myself a hot Ribena.
Unsubscribe. (verb)
Formed from the word ‘subscribe’ with the addition of the un- prefix, indicating reversal or cancellation.
Intransitive. To stop subscribing to a mailing list or (originally) newsgroup, in order not to receive further information or updates from it via email, etc.; to cancel a subscription to an online service. Also transitive: to cancel the subscription of (a person) to a mailing list or online service.
Every time I see the word I feel the sting of its deceit, the disdain of the company that emailed me, and the irritation from the relentless unsubscribing I need to do. Because it doesn’t matter whether you consent or not to marketing emails - you’re getting them. A Spanish restaurant from three years ago… a gardening centre you once bought a hose from… energy suppliers… financial advisers… marketing affiliates you’ve never heard of – they’ve all got a newsletter they want to shove into your brain box, and you apparently subscribed to all of them. Except, of course, you didn’t. Why in the world would you? But if you want to end their tiresome communications, you must UNSUBSCRIBE. And I’m offended at this grievous abuse of the English language.
Nor does it end there. After you Unsubscribe, there’s the Confirmation Message: We’re sorry to see you go; You’ll be missed; Come back soon. Email copywriters strive for a tone of folksy bonhomie that they hope might soften your resolve, particularly when combined with a dash of guilt and a splash of FOMO. But to my ears, these messages sound like they’ve been written by a creepy ex. Are we sending you too many emails?; Can we change your mind?; Let’s Keep In Touch. Where ‘Unsubscribe’ was merely rude, these messages give me the willies.
Meanwhile, at the Association of Newsletter-Writing Assholes, work’s been progressing on the consent check boxes, which have become another devilish creation.
[ ] Please don’t untick this box if you don’t wish to not undecline a refusal to withhold marketing emails
Even if you can parse the dizzying double negatives and confusing layouts, know this: it doesn’t matter. Like death and taxes, that newsletter’s coming.
Ah, but what about the General Data Protection Regulation, or GDPR, you say? UK and EU law requires that organisations have your permission to contact you, so you must have subscribed! Well I call ‘bullshit’ on that. I have received too many newsletters from too many organisations I definitely didn’t subscribe to to trust the system works.
I understand that language evolves and words change their meaning. ‘Decimate’, ‘myriad’ and ‘nice’ don’t mean what they once did, and that’s good - healthy even. But until the Oxford English Dictionary extends the meaning of ‘subscribe’ to ‘compulsory inclusion on a mailing list you don’t want to be on’, then I’m fighting this abuse of language. Obviously I can’t stop those infernal emails, but I reject ‘unsubscribe’. I’ll click ‘Cease emailing’, ‘Stop contacting me’ or ‘Remove me from your mailing list’, but the ‘Unsubscribe’ lie must end.
And if, by some fiendish ironic error, you’re receiving this post without having subscribed, you know where to click. But hey, Let’s Keep In Touch.

Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.