Shady Char­ac­ters advent calendar 2025: THUMBS UP


👍
THUMBS UP, aka Unicode code point 0x1F44D.

If the onsen emoji (♨️) and the hamburger (🍔) show us the nuts and bolts of how emoji work, THUMBS UP (👍) shows us how we, emoji’s users, put our own stamp on them. That’s because ‘👍’ is a chameleon and a provocateur, with meanings that can vary widely depending on how old you are and where you use it.


Like many of the most common emoji, THUMBS UP was inherited from Japan’s competing emoji sets and was standardised only in 2010.1,2 Yet unlike many of its peers, ‘👍’ had a non-emoji counterpart right from the start.

Facebook’s “like” button was that counterpart, an innocuous user-interface control which debuted in February 2009, and which which was normally rendered as a blue-tinted thumbs-up gesture.3 The company had been working on a “like” button since 2007,4 and, although emoji at the time were still mostly confined to Japan, many in the tech industry knew of emoji and were working on them in one capacity or another. It’s tempting to speculate, if not to state definitively, that Facebook’s thumbs-up button could easily have been inspired by the ‘👍’ which would soon make it way into the world at large.

There’s a lot to be said about the “like” button itself (and indeed, a lot has been said about it5,6,7,8), but in the interest of getting to the point, I’d like to look specifically at what it has done to the ‘👍’ emoji. Because with fifteen years of both “like” buttons and emoji under our belts, making use of the prima facie simple THUMBS UP emoji has become anything but straightforward.

With the caveat that this is my own personal opinion, it seems plain that the “like” buttons which litter social media and messaging applications, most of which ape Facebook’s simple thumbs-up, have cheapened the corresponding emoji. (A slew of recent opinion pieces seem to agree: “The unbearable rudeness of the thumbs up emoji”;9 “Thumbs up to the season of ambivalence”10 “Gen Z Have Cancelled The Thumbs Up Emoji And Here’s Why You Should Worry”11.) By making it trivially easy to acknowledge a message with a cursory ‘👍’, the ubiquity of the “like” button has cursed its emoji counterpart with a significant gravitas shortfall.

The result is that in 2025, the ‘👍’ survives mostly within environments that are inhospitable to irony. Corporate chat systems such as Microsoft Teams are one; earnest social networks popular with older people, such as Facebook, are another. In places such as these, a ‘👍’ conveys a meaning close to its real-world inspiration: yes, I will attend your meeting. Yes, I like your pictures from Disneyland Paris. But in other contexts, a ‘👍’ is not a good thing. It is the calling card of a desperately outmoded correspondent,12 or a symbol of assent so blasé as to shoot straight past agreement and hit passive aggression instead. Sure. Whatever.9

Like ‘😂’, ‘👍’ is a convincing data point in the ongoing argument over whether we should think of emoji as a language: they can certainly be as confusing, as contradictory, and as elusive as any word.


1.
Scherer, Markus, Mark Davis, Kat Momoi, Darick Tong, Yasuo Kida, and Peter Edberg. “L2/10-132:/Emoji/Symbols:/Background/Data”. Unicode Consortium, April 2010.

 

2.
The Unicode Standard, Version 6.0 - Archived Code Charts. Mountain View: The Unicode Consortium, 2010.

 

3.
Pearlman, Leah. “I Like This”. Facebook Note. Facebook.

 

4.
Unknown entry 
5.
Roosendaal, Arnold. “Facebook Tracks and Traces Everyone: Like This!”. SSRN Scholarly Paper. Rochester, NY: Social Science Research Network, November 30, 2010. https://doi.org/10.2139/ssrn.1717563.

 

6.
Levordashka, Ana, Sonja Utz, and Renee Ambros. “What’s in a Like? Motivations for Pressing the Like Button”. Proceedings of the International AAAI Conference on Web and Social Media 10, no. 1 (2016): 623-626. https://doi.org/10.1609/icwsm.v10i1.14768.

 

7.
Chin, Chih-Yu, Hsi-Peng Lu, and Chao-Ming Wu. “Facebook Users’ Motivation for Clicking the ‘Like’ Button”. Social Behavior and Personality: An International Journal 43, no. 4 (May 24, 2015): 579-592. https://doi.org/10.2224/sbp.2015.43.4.579.

 

8.
Eranti, Veikko, and Markku Lonkila. “The Social Significance of the Facebook Like Button”. First Monday, May 28, 2015. https://doi.org/10.5210/fm.v20i6.5505.

 

9.
Strimpel, Zoe. “The unbearable rudeness of the thumbs up emoji”. The Spectator (blog).

 

10.

 

11.

 

12.

 

Shady Char­ac­ters advent calendar 2025: HAMBURGER


🍔
HAMBURGER, aka Unicode code point 0x1F354.

In most ways, the HAMBURGER emoji is quite boring. It’s been around since emoji’s Japanese heyday, when it appeared on phones from all of Japan’s big cellphone networks, and it was one of the first emoji to be adopted for use in the wider world.1 Early documents show that ‘🍔’ was intended to represent both hamburgers specifically (ハンバーガー, or hanbaagaa) and fast food in general (ファーストフード, or fuaasutofuudo)2 — although its modest place in the emoji rankings, coming in at only 355th most popular in 2021,3 suggests that neither sense is particularly compelling. To put it another way, and to see emoji’s very long tail in action, HAMBURGER is used 677 times less often than ‘😂’, the most common emoji.

Why, then, am I writing about ‘🍔’? Well, for two reasons.

First is because HAMBURGER provides an object lesson in how emoji are not really standardised, at least not in the way you might expect. Back in 2017, when Google refreshed the visual appearance of all its emoji, the slice of cheese on the ‘🍔’ somehow migrated from its rightful position atop the burger to under it,4 prompting not a little online surprise.5 Google CEO Sundar Pichai, who, it should be noted, earned $200,000,000 that same year,6 publicly promised to fix the position of the cheese on a pixelated hamburger:

Will drop everything else we are doing and address on Monday:) if folks can agree on the correct way to do this!

And indeed, Pichai was as good as his word. The cheese was soon restored.7

That “burgergate” had come about at all was because neither Google nor anyone else truly controls what emoji look like. The Unicode Consortium, which gives each emoji its unique name and number, provides examples of how each one should be designed, but it has no way to enforce those suggestions. This is why Facebook’s emoji can look subtly different to Microsoft’s, and Microsoft’s to Snapchat’s, and so on. And furthermore, this is why Google, the first big Western company to embrace emoji, can put the cheese in the wrong place in the ‘🍔’.

The second reason to take note of the burger emoji is because its mid-table position in the emoji hierarchy has a practical significance. The set of emoji we can use on our phones and computers isn’t fixed. The same Unicode Consortium which manages the emoji lexicon invites proposals for new symbols, and each year, a lucky few are given the official seal of approval. One of the criteria for deciding which new emoji to approve is their expected level of usage — and that is where HAMBURGER comes in. Although its popularity is little more than a rounding error when compared to the most common emoji, ‘🍔’ sits roughly at the midpoint, or median, of emoji popularity: about half of all emoji are more popular, and about half are less popular.8 HAMBURGER is a helpful, beefy barometer for how popular an emoji needs to be before Unicode’s emoji subcommittee will take it into consideration.

The humble ‘🍔’ has a lot to teach us about how emoji work.


1.

 

2.
Scherer, Markus, Mark Davis, Kat Momoi, Darick Tong, Yasuo Kida, and Peter Edberg. “L2/10-132:/Emoji/Symbols:/Background/Data”. Unicode Consortium, April 2010.

 

3.
Daniel, Jennifer. “Emoji Frequency”. Unicode.

 

4.

 

5.

 

6.

 

7.

 

8.
Davis, Mark. “L2/19-082:/QID/Emoji/Proposal”. Unicode Consortium, March 28, 2019.

 

Shady Char­ac­ters advent calendar 2025: HOT SPRINGS


♨️
HOT SPRINGS, aka Unicode code points 0x2668 and 0xFE0F.

You would be forgiven for wondering what, exactly, this emoji (♨️) is meant to represent. Well, if the title has not already given the game away, I will tell you: this is the HOT SPRINGS emoji,1 and in emoji terms at least, it is positively antediluvian. Not only that, but ‘♨️’ gives us a peek behind the Unicode curtain — Unicode being the consortium, and the eponymous standard, which define how computing devices encode text.

The emoji that Unicode first added to their computerised character set in 2010 came from a variety of sources. Chief among them were Japan’s big three mobile phone networks: NTT, KDDI and Softbank.2 But pipping emoji into Unicode was a different collection of Japanese symbols. ARIB, the industry body for Japan’s TV and radio networks,3 had its own lexicon of symbols for TV news programmes, weather reports and more, and among those symbols was this one, ‘♨︎’, standing for the onsen, or hot springs, on which Japan’s traditional bath houses were built.4

Unicode is not a democracy, exactly, but the consortium accepts suggestions from other organisations and even members of the public on which characters should be added to its set. In 2007, then, a Michel Suignard had proposed to add ARIB’s symbols, including ‘♨’, to better support Japanese users.5 But Unicode already had an onsen symbol. In fact, it had had one since Unicode version 1.0, published way back in October 1991.6

Now, it’s not entirely clear to me why this should be the case. Unicode 1.0 was Frankensteined together from a number of earlier character sets, including two from Japan, but neither one of them contained an onsen character.7,8 ‘♨︎’ was a common cartographic symbol at the time,9 which may have been enough for Unicode to give it the nod, but that is pure supposition on my part. Not every character’s journey into the Unicode standard is documented, and the onsen symbol is every bit as mysterious as the interrobang (‽) in this respect.


So, to recapitulate: in 1991, for reasons unknown, a certain Japanese cartographic symbol (♨︎) made the cut for the initial version of Unicode standard. Its utility was reaffirmed in 2007 by its presence in a collection of Japanese broadcasting symbols also to be added to the standard.

Then, in 2010, came emoji. And it turned out that not only was ‘♨’ used on maps and on TV, but also that all three of Japan’s big cellphone carriers had a HOT SPRINGS emoji in their respective sets.2 End of story, right? Our onsen symbol has reached its final form.

Well, not quite. When Unicode added a host of emoji in 2010 it was obvious that they would have to be drawn in colour — but what of those, such as ‘♨︎’ which already existed as black-and-white symbols? We’re accustomed, these days, to emoji’s colourful appearance, but in the late 2000s, when emoji were still taking tentative steps out of Japan and into the rest of the world, text was very much a monochrome prospect. The Unicode Consortium didn’t quite know how to handle the problem, writing that:

Because many characters in the core emoji sets [overlap] with Unicode characters that originally came from other sources, there is no way […] to tell whether a character should be presented using an “emoji” style; that decision depends on context.10

You’re on your own, in other words. For a handful of years, these problematic characters were left up to those companies and organisations which translated Unicode’s abstract numeric “code points”* into concrete glyphs — the Googles, Apples, and Facebooks of the world, not to mention sundry type designers. In the confusion, some symbols were rendered as colourful emoji and others as sober monochrome icons.11

Finally, late in 2011, the consortium made some behind-the-scenes technical adjustments to allow certain characters to be rendered either in black and white or in colour;12 ‘♨︎’ and ‘♨️’ were given their own distinct appearances, and the onsen emoji was born.


I hope this has given you some insight into how emoji made their way onto our smartphones and computers, and how fraught their journey has been — and yet it’s worth noting that even tracing the evolution of the ‘♨️’ in some detail barely scratches the surface of that process. Whenever you type a ‘❤️’ or a ‘😭’, spare a thought for the programmers, language experts, and type designers who made it possible.


1.
Emojipedia. “♨️ Hot Springs Emoji”. Accessed October 31, 2025.

 

2.
Scherer, Markus, Mark Davis, Kat Momoi, Darick Tong, Yasuo Kida, and Peter Edberg. “L2/10-132:/Emoji/Symbols:/Background/Data”. Unicode Consortium, April 2010.

 

3.

 

4.

 

5.
Suignard, Michel. “L2/08-077R2:/Japanese/TV/Symbols”. Unicode Consortium, March 11, 2008.

 

6.
“Code Charts”. In The Unicode Standard, Version 1.0. The Unicode Consortium, 1991.

 

7.
CyberLibrarian. “JIS X 0208コード表”. Accessed November 10, 2025.

 

8.
CyberLibrarian. “JIS X 0212コード表(全コード)”. Accessed November 10, 2025.

 

9.
ゼンリンオンラインショップ. “地図から散歩”. Accessed November 10, 2025.

 

10.
“Symbols”. In The Unicode Standard, Version 6.0.

 

11.
Davis, Mark. “L2/13-207:/Which/Characters/Should/Have/Emoji-Style/by/Default?”. Unicode Consortium, October 30, 2013.

 

12.

 

*
For instance, ‘♨︎’ is represented by the hexadecimal number 0x2668. 

Shady Char­ac­ters advent calendar 2025: FACE WITH TEARS OF JOY


😂
FACE WITH TEARS OF JOY, aka Unicode code point 0x1F602.

You know this guy, right? FACE WITH TEARS OF JOY, also known as the “cry-laugh” emoji, has been the most commonly-used emoji in the world for much of its existence. Barring a brief fall from grace during the Covid-19 pandemic in favour of ‘😭’ (and let’s face it, we didn’t have quite as much to be joyful about back them),1,2 ‘😂’ has been a constant companion in the new world of emoji.

‘😂’ made its formal debut in 2010, when, along with hundreds of other Japanese emoji, it was added to a standards document, called Unicode, which governs the characters our computers and smartphones can exchange.3 Google and Apple had shipped non-standard, bootleg emoji a couple of years earlier,4,5 but 2010 marked the point at which emoji could, and did, go global.

FACE WITH TEARS OF JOY was one of emoji’s early winners. In 2014, Mona Chalabi of 538 noted that on Twitter, only ‘♥️’ was used more frequently,6 and, by the following year, ‘😂’ was arguably the most popular emoji in the world.7 It was so common, in fact, that Oxford Dictionaries felt able to name it as word of the year.8

Then the backlash began. ‘😂’ had always been a very demonstrative emoji, as Amy O’Connor noted for The Daily Edge in 2015, but was it perhaps too dramatic? O’Connor called FACE WITH TEARS OF JOY “basic as hell”, and lamented that its use was almost always unwarranted.9 Whether O’Connor was right or wrong, something had broken the thread which connected this particular emoji’s meaning to its appearance. Slowly, inexorably, ‘😂’ came to embody not a joyful or empathetic reaction but rather a mirthless laugh of derision.* Abi Wilkinson, writing for the Guardian in 2016, branded it “mocking and cruel”.10 In 2021, CNN would tell us “Sorry, millennials. The 😂 emoji isn’t cool anymore”,11 and Vice would call it “the most divisive emoji in history” with only a pinch of exaggeration.2

And yet! For all the brickbats, FACE WITH TEARS OF JOY is still very popular. Quantifying exactly how popular is tricky to do, as we’ll see in a future advent calendar entry, but I am comfortable in stating that as of December 2025 it is almost certainly within the top five emoji worldwide. How can this be? How can such an overexposed emoji of debatable sincerity stay at the top of the heap? The answer, I suspect, lies in a combination of ignorance and malice. Some people like it because they see it as positive; others like it because they see it as negative. There’s a lesson here to be learned, I’m sure.


1.
Emojipedia. “😂 Face With Tears of Joy Emoji”. Accessed October 31, 2025.

 

2.

 

3.

 

4.
Lewis, Darren. “A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words”. Official Gmail Blog (blog).

 

5.

 

6.
Chalabi, Mona. “The 100 Most-Used Emojis”. FiveThirtyEight (blog).

 

7.
“SwiftKey Emoji Report”. SwiftKey, April 2015.

 

8.
Oxford Dictionaries. “Word of the Year 2015”.

 

9.

 

10.

 

11.

 

*
In my experience, the same thing has happened to Facebook’s similar ‘😆’ reaction icon. 

Shady Characters × Grammar Girl: a pair of podcasts for your enjoyment!

Image courtesy of Mignon Fogarty.

I’ve been internet acquaintances with Mignon Fogarty, also known as Grammar Girl, for many years now. (We share a literary agent, in fact, which is perhaps the most New Yorker–coded thing I’ve ever typed.)

As such, I was more than happy to talk to Mignon about Face with Tears of Joy for her always fascinating podcast. That episode has been out for a couple of months now (you can find it here, on YouTube, or wherever else you get your podcasts), but we also recorded a bonus episode about the hoary subject of books and book history. I am happy to report that that second episode has now been published to YouTube and all of the usual places, so head over there to watch and listen. (And also to marvel at my webcam, which insisted on focusing on the bookshelves behind me rather than on my face. It has a sense of irony, at least.)

Thank you to Mignon for having me on!