A small – no less frustrating for it – part of my week is spent unsubscribing from email lists. There’s my university alumni association, the Dutch immigration authority (don’t ask), a salsa school in Barcelona, Sony???, a bank I used once on holiday in 2013; an Israeli tour company; the concert venue where I saw AC/DC play in 2015.
My routine is the same each time: click to open, scroll past the annoying banner to the bottom, hit unsubscribe, roll eyes at the “We’re sorry to see you go” page, unsubscribe from all, delete email.
In Dante’s Inferno, the final circle of hell, the ninth, is for the treacherous. Judas and Satan are joined by Cassius and Brutus – the latter two for their involvement in the assassination of Julius Caesar, who Dante quite liked, presumably unaware of the whole genocide thing. Judas is condemned to be perpetually chewed, headfirst, by one of Satan’s three mouths. Brutus and Cassius occupy the other two mouths, having it slightly easier by only being chewed feet first.
There should be a tenth circle of hell for companies which don’t let you unsubscribe from their mailing list without first logging in to your account. An account you made six years ago, standing in front of an impatient bouncer trying to download e-tickets onto a Motorola Razr.
Goodreads threatens to lower the bar even further with 96 different options for subscription settings:
Those who manage email subscriptions must also be the partners who send five texts when one would do, and who then follow up with five more to check “you’re still there.” I know you’re worried I’ll leave you and this is your way of showing affection, but it’s not working. I will leave you, unless you leave me alone. Keep it to once a week – max. And no, I don’t have a commitment problem.
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Something Interesting. Most Days. 