As December rolls around, millions of people across the globe gear up for Whamageddon—a festive survival game where players try to avoid hearing the original Wham! hit Last Christmas* from December 1st until midnight on Christmas Eve. While this might seem like yet another frivolous viral trend—ranking somewhere between planking and learning a TikTok dance—playing Whamageddon might actually be the ultimate hack for saving the planet and our own wellbeing.
The rules of engagement
The rules are simple: survive December 1st to 24th without hearing the original version of the song. Covers are fine; remixes don’t count. But as soon as those iconic synths hit your ears? Wham. You’re out.
The Whammed typically post to social media with #Whamageddon upon entering “Whamhalla.” While you can deliberately Wham your friends, remember: this is a survival game, not The Hunger Games. Don’t be a jerk. A stadium DJ in the UK learned this the hard way in 2023, forcing him to apologise after “Whamming” 7,000 fans at halftime. As he noted: “I gave it a spin thinking it would be funny… clearly it isn’t funny.”
But beyond the memes, the game inadvertently teaches us a lesson in sustainability. Any veteran player knows the song stalks you in two specific “danger zones”: airports and shopping malls. To win the game, you must avoid them.
Save us from tears (and emissions)
Avoiding airports isn’t just a good strategy for the game; it is a critical intervention for the climate.
While most people know that flying is not so great for the planet, fewer realize that short-haul flights are the “Careless Whispers” of the transport world: brief but disproportionately damaging. Because a massive proportion of an aircraft’s fuel is consumed during the energy-intensive take-off and landing phases, short hops (like London to Edinburgh) burn significantly more carbon per kilometer than long-haul trips. On very short routes, the non-cruising phases can account for roughly one-third of the total fuel burn.
We aren’t suggesting you cancel your Christmas homecoming, but by swapping that short flight for a ground-based alternative like rail, travelers can reduce their journey’s emissions by up to 90%. Plus, unlike the airport duty-free lounge, your local train station is far less likely to have George Michael on high rotation.
Everything she wants (is bad for the planet)
The second danger zone for getting Whammed is the shopping mall. Avoiding it is a powerful act of resistance against the “take-make-waste” economy.
Malls are engineered to trigger impulse consumption (“Everything she wants,” indeed). This environment pushes us to buy unnecessary and disposable goods that strain planetary boundaries and are ultimately destined for landfill. The environmental cost is staggering; take fast fashion as just one example, an industry that alone contributes up to 10% of global carbon emissions and 20% of global wastewater.
Beyond the environmental cost, avoiding the mall protects our mental wellbeing. Research on the Easterlin Paradox suggests that once basic needs are met, increased material consumption does not lead to a corresponding rise in happiness. Instead, we fall victim to “hedonic adaptation,” where the buzz of a new purchase fades rapidly, leaving us wanting more.
By skipping the mall, we escape the dissatisfaction of the consumer treadmill, prioritizing lasting experiences over fleeting material goods.
Freedom: The art of ‘enoughness’
Embracing Whamageddon is about more than just dodging a melody; it is a practical application of ecological sufficiency.
While efficiency seeks to make our consumption cleaner (e.g., slightly more fuel-efficient planes), sufficiency challenges the underlying assumption that we always need “more”—more miles traveled, more gifts bought, more speed. It asks the critical question: “How much is enough for a good life?”
By avoiding the airport, we accept a slower pace that respects planetary boundaries. By bypassing the mall, we reject the endless treadmill of manufactured want. This shift cultivates a sense of “enoughness”—a state where wellbeing is derived not from the volume of our consumption, but from the richness of our connections.
The very next day (you gave it away)
And if that iconic synth intro finally catches you off guard? Don’t despair. You haven’t lost the game; you’ve just unlocked the ultimate anthem of the circular economy.
Last Christmas isn’t just about heartbreak; it’s a ballad about regifting (“The very next day, you gave it away”). It’s an environmentally friendly practice—just be sure to make it socially sustainable, too.
- Do: Give that unwanted item to “someone special” who actually needs it.
- Don’t: Regift it back to the person who gave it to you.
That’s a game nobody wins.
*We have intentionally not linked a clip of Last Christmas in the article because we’re not jerks.
Text: Seona Candy, Demos Helsinki
Picture: Unsplash
