Entering festive work drinks last week, I bumped into an acquaintance and asked how her Advent was going. She answered with a defeated sigh, admitting that she felt overwhelmed and impossibly busy. “Same here,” I replied, in something like a lament. What the popular 1963 Edward Pola and George Wyle song names the most wonderful time of the year has quietly become the most overstimulated.
According to 2025 tech analyses, December now ranks as the highest month for digital engagement worldwide, a deluge fuelled by online shopping, nonstop social media content, and end-of-year workplace demands. The World Health Organisation continues to warn of this pre-Christmas overload, which often culminates in burnout, paving the way for a January mental health crash marked by anxiety, exhaustion, and a profound sense of emptiness.
This pressure is compounded by the structure of the digital marketplace itself, which stretches the “holiday season” longer — from late November’s Black Friday and Cyber Monday into an entire December of sales and so-called “last-minute deals.” I’ve certainly lost evenings to algorithm-driven gift guides, intent on curating the perfect presents for my family when I should have been sitting down to write our Christmas cards. Last year, one in 10 people in the UK chose not to send a single card at all.
This digital frenzy adds a new dimension to the familiar December pressures of family obligations, financial strain, cold weather and shorter days. This year, a survey found that 83 per cent of Gen Z respondents felt social media content pressured them to be “perfect” at Christmas, while 87 per cent said it negatively affected their mental health. As a millennial, even I feel the quiet insistence to post something festive just to keep up.
What should be a season of joyful preparation has slipped into irritability and overwhelm. This is no longer merely festive stress; it is a symptom of how digital culture has hijacked our attention, leaving us physiologically hooked on constant input.
As the Dicastery for Communications observes, in this “always on” environment we succumb to continuous partial attention, flitting from one stimulus to the next, our capacity to ponder deeply eroded by the shallows of endless scrolling.
The scale of this saturation is striking. Adobe forecasts record UK online spending of £26.9 billion across November and December, driven by mobile shopping and digital channels. At the same time, social media usage surges with seasonal content and gift discovery, while remote and hybrid work blur boundaries, turning family time into an extension of the office inbox — with many of us working shifts through the Christmas holidays simply to keep pace with client demand.
Health experts echo these concerns, noting that December’s digital peak correlates with heightened cortisol levels and widespread sleep disruption — laying the groundwork for that familiar January slump, where resolutions falter under the weight of unresolved fatigue.
This overstimulation is not merely a practical problem; it is a spiritual one. Advent invites us to prepare for the Incarnation not through frenzy, but through encounter.
Yet digital culture robs us of this. It fosters what the Dicastery calls a “loss of our ability to think deeply and purposefully.” Pope Francis, in Laudato Si’, names this “mental pollution,” where information overload isolates us further, replacing genuine relationships with contrived digital ones.
In December, this often takes the form of a false festivity: virtual carols streamed alone, seasonal photos shared online, Christmas films watched in isolation. But our Trinitarian God (in eternal communion) designed us for community, not cosiness; depth, not distraction.
As Genesis reminds us, humanity flourishes in relational gift, not solitary scrolling. The pre-Christmas rush has become a temptation to idolatry, where convenience displaces contemplation.
And yet the Church offers a counter-cultural remedy: silence as a path to true encounter. The Dicastery for Communications advocates a “digital detox” not as withdrawal for its own sake, but as space for focus and discernment — essential in families, workplaces, and parishes alike.
In a season when digital demands peak, December can become a kairos moment: a graced opportunity to unplug and rediscover the Incarnate Word who entered our frenzy to bring peace.
As mental and physical health warnings mount, the Church reminds us: overstimulation starves the soul, but silence feeds it. If we heed this call, we not only avert January’s crash but prepare our hearts for the Saviour who calms every storm.
The very behaviours we think bring festive delight: browsing gift ideas, scrolling videos, comparing friends’ Christmas traditions are also those that quietly elevate stress, fragment attention, and erode inner stillness. So let us reclaim December, not as a marketing season, but as a spiritual refuge, where the Church teaches us once more how to wait, to watch, and to make room for Christ. May we allow ourselves to be shaped by the Church’s rhythms, rather than by the algorithms that compete for our focus.
