All I want for Christmas is no more group chats

The pings from a phone signalling a new group chat message are enough to trigger a cortisol spike, writes Victoria Hannaford. Whoever invented this torture has a lot to answer for.

I’ve had a bit of trouble deciding what I want for Christmas.

Like most so-called adults, I’ve amassed enough clobber. Sure, I’d like a mortgage free house or two, but last time I checked Santa isn’t in cahoots with the Big Four (although considering their profits and shoddy practices revealed in the recent Royal Commission, their public relations could only benefit from writing off a few debts).

Instead, my mind is turning to non-material gifts. Yes, world peace is one of the most important things our society needs, but as I’m not aiming to take out Miss Congeniality in a beauty pageant, my wishes are somewhat more personal.

Sandra Bullock is welcome to the title of Miss Congeniality and world peace for Christmas, but I have other ideas.

So I’ve finally decided this Christmas, I would like an end to the tyranny of group chat.

If you are mercifully unaware of this form of digital torture, let me enlighten you.

Some Type A personality you’re related or in-lawed to (even a friend could do it!) decides that the best way to communicate their group dominance, and communicate in general, is by bombarding you and a select bunch with messages about an upcoming event.

It doesn’t usually turn out well.

If you thought that it was only Christmas that sees adults spontaneously regress to adolescents and their associated petty dynamics, then you’ve definitely never been added to a group chat. It’s like every terrible teen memory rendered into tiny letters, emoji and gifs. Add nonsensical parental contributions to a family chat and it’s basically group therapy minus a psychotherapist.

What Yuletide horrors lurk within? Picture: iStock

It’s probably no coincidence that my Christmas wish to detonate all group chats has dovetailed with a family group chat that has turned into a frenetic exchange of “ideas” (they’re demands) for festive foods and Yuletide gifts ahead of our getaway that will see around 30 of our clan gather in a small seaside town.

Sure, it seems like a transparent and airy way to organise the whole affair, but it’s actually the most passive aggressive of all communications. The pings from a phone alerting to a new group chat message are enough to trigger a cortisol spike.

For instance, if anyone starts a message with “Hey guys” you know they’re a psychopathic monster who’s about to insist you bake a cheesy wreath-shaped pastry and arrange an antipasto platter so it looks like a Christmas tree for the big day.

And then there’s messages from the Kris Kringle gift exchange organiser.

These festive smiles could be masking all kinds of passive aggression. Picture: iStock

Not even a chirpy “Hi All”, seemingly heralding festive cheer, can mask their true intent of filial domination,

I’ve tried my best to ignore these gift “suggestions” (again, demands) and, in the manner of my teens and Yuletide adolescent regression, fly under the radar. But these group chat apps — WhatsApp and Facebook messenger — have annoying Big Brother-esque functions that show who has read a message, and not responded. It seems that in the digital age, silence is no longer golden.

Anyway, my recalcitrance about festive gift exchange has seen communication ramp up and — gasp — I’ve been getting phone calls to confirm I’m taking part.

Which is fine, because I’ve just had the best idea. I’m going to delete my chat apps, throw my phone in the river and hand out carrier pigeons to the family as gifts this Christmas.

Victoria Hannaford is a writer and producer for RendezView.

@vhannaford

Originally published as All I want for Christmas is no more group chats