Spamming The Spammers.

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Let me start by saying that I am not a violent man. I do not believe in revenge, retribution, or any form of vigilante justice that requires trousers. 

But after receiving my four hundredth email this week informing me that (A) my bank account has been frozen, (B) my Netflix password has been compromised, or (C) I have won a Bulgarian tractor, I have reached a point where I feel morally obligated to take action.I am, of course, referring to spamming the spammers a noble pursuit, like recycling, except more therapeutic and involving far more shouting.The modern spammer is a curious creature. They believe, with touching optimism, that I will click a link titled “URGENT: Your Package Is Delayed Due to a Problem With Your Package.” This is not how humans speak. This is how a malfunctioning satnav speaks right before it bursts into flames. Yet the spammers persist, sending me messages from people with names like Mrs. Wealthy Donation or Kevin Refund Department, who assure me that if I simply hand over my bank details, I will receive a refund for a product I never bought, from a shop that does not exist, in a country I cannot pronounce.

So I decided to fight back.My first attempt was subtle. I replied to a spammer pretending to be my bank by sending them a 47‑page PDF titled “My Financial Situation, Explained Through Interpretive Dance.” The file contained nothing but pictures of me wearing a leotard and looking confused. The spammer did not reply, possibly because they were traumatised, or possibly because they were busy emailing someone else about their frozen tractor.My second attempt was more direct. I responded to a “tech support” scam by pretending to be a man named Clive, who believes his computer is haunted by the ghost of a Victorian chimney sweep. I asked the scammer if they could exorcise it. They replied, incredibly, with instructions. This means somewhere in the world, a scammer genuinely attempted to troubleshoot a haunted laptop. I consider this a victory for the forces of good.But the true breakthrough came when I realised that spammers hate one thing above all else: being inconvenienced. They can dish it out, but they cannot take it. So I began sending them long, rambling emails about topics no human has ever wanted to discuss, such as:The correct way to fold a fitted sheetThe history of spoonsMy neighbour’s cat, who I suspect is planning a coup

Within minutes, the spammers stopped replying. I imagine them sitting at their computers, staring at my email about spoons, wondering where their lives went wrong.Of course, some people say we should simply delete spam and move on with our lives. These people are wrong. Deleting spam is passive. It is like seeing a wasp in your kitchen and politely asking it to leave. Spamming the spammers, however, is active. It is like chasing the wasp out with a frying pan while shouting, “NOT TODAY, YOU STRIPY MENACE.”And so I continue my crusade. Every time a spammer emails me, I respond with something even more deranged. Last night I sent one a detailed proposal for a new reality show called “Celebrity Badger Grooming.” I am awaiting their reply. I suspect they are confused. I hope they are frightened.Because in the end, spamming the spammers is not just about revenge. It is about reclaiming our inboxes, our dignity, and our right not to be told every single morning that our PayPal account has been suspended due to “suspicious activity,” which, in my case, is probably accurate but still none of their business.

So join me, fellow citizens. Rise up. Reply to the spammers. Confuse them. Exhaust them. Make them regret ever learning to type.It’s the least we can do for civilisation.

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