Article
Attention
Culture
Digital
Ghosting
Psychology
5 min read

Ghosting is not immature, it’s plain cruel

The dehumanising behaviour hiding in plain sight.
On a dark street someone checks their mobile phone for messages.

‘Do you really believe that the moon only exists when you look at it?’ 

It’s a great question. Do you know who asked it? It sounds rather Shakespearean, doesn’t it? It’s got a touch of the – ‘that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet’ - about it. 

But not so.  

Interestingly, it was Albert Einstein who asked this question. He asked it again and again – unable to relax into any answer his contemporaries could offer him. He thought, at least initially, that he was asking a question about quantum physics. But he wasn’t; not really. Einstein was asking what it means to exist, what it means to be. 

And that means that he was actually asking a theological question. And I, for one, would appreciate it if we would get into the habit of asking it too, just phrased a little differently. I’d like us to ask something a little like:  

Do you really believe that the person only exists when you text them back?’ 

Yes, I’m imploring us all to take an Einstein-esque approach to the phenomenon of ‘ghosting’.  

Ghosting, just to make sure that we’re all one the same page, is the act of abruptly and completely cutting off all forms of contact with another person, offering no form of prior warning nor any kind of subsequent explanation. To ghost someone is to perform a social cut and run, a relational dine-and-dash, if you will. This, of course, can happen in all kinds of contexts – in work situations, in friendships, and in the most niche of circumstances. There’s an incredibly popular podcast, the title of which – ‘My Therapist Ghosted Me’ - is a tongue in cheek reference to one of the presenters being inexplicably cut off by their own therapist. Ouch.

And so, ghosting causes a social injury, it inflicts a heart wound. Being ghosted, we are coming to realise, is a rejection of the most absolute kind.

But where this phenomenon is reaching astounding heights is in the context of romantic relationships. The technological age in which we live, where the majority of romantic relationships are now being initiated and established online, has meant that we’ve got ghosting down to a fine art. It’s become all too easy. And apparently, nobody is immune.  

Just recently, Billie Eilish – Oscar and Grammy award winning musical genius and all-round cultural icon - explained how she had recently been the victim of an almighty ghosting. She said,  

‘it was insane. I was like – “did you die? Have you literally died?” It was somebody that I’d known for years, we had a plan (to meet) and the day of… nothing. I never heard from him again.’ 

Imagine being ignored so suddenly and completely that your first instinct is that the person must have died, only to realise – they hadn’t died, you were just disposable to them. This is happening all of the time, there’s a generation of people who are having their sense of self and of the ‘other’ defined by this very phenomenon. 

What’s incredibly interesting is that in the span of a few short years, psychologists and relationship therapists have gone from speaking of ‘ghosting’ in terms of emotional immaturity, conflict avoidance and a lack of communication skills, to regarding it as a form of cruelty and even abuse.  

It is not primarily the intent of the ‘ghost’ that is causing psychologists to speak of ghosting in increasingly serious terms. Most ‘ghosts’ are cowardly, perhaps, but not sheer evil. Rather, it is the extraordinary depths of hurt that the behaviour inflicts (intended or not) upon the person who has been victim to it.  

We are learning that there are all manner of harmful things that ghosting does to our brains and all kinds messages that it sends to our self-esteem. Namely, that we weren’t enough for that person, that we’ve failed somehow, that we’re disposable, that we misread the situation, that we misread them, that we’re deficient in almost every kind of way.  

These lies inevitably fill the gaps left by the silence of the other person. False explanations, usually of the most self-depreciating kind, take advantage of that fact that no explanation was offered by the person who hurt us. The bewilderment itself becomes a form of torture. And so, ghosting causes a social injury, it inflicts a heart wound. Being ghosted, we are coming to realise, is a rejection of the most absolute kind.  

Ghosting is the symptom of a society in which we kid ourselves into thinking that people only come to life when our thoughts turn to them or our eyes rest on them.

But I think there’s even more to it. And this is where I return to Einstein’s question, and my modern, admittedly much less cosmic, re-imagining of it. Because underneath it all, I think that ghosting is a theological issue.  

To ghost someone is to act as if they do not exist because you have averted your gaze from them. It is, therefore, to deprive them of the fullness of their existence. Or, at least, to deny it. It is an act of deep diminishment. Do we really believe that the moon only exists when it is looked upon? Ghosting forces us to similarly ask – do we believe that we only exist when we are looked upon?  

So, you see, it goes deep. It cuts to the core of what it means to be.  

Ghosting is the symptom of a society in which we kid ourselves into thinking that people only come to life when our thoughts turn to them or our eyes rest on them. If we can’t see the suffering we’ve caused, it isn’t happening. If we’ve cut someone out of our life, they aren’t existing. At least, we can behave as if they aren’t.  

One could argue that it’s a form of dehumanization, one that’s hidden in plain sight.  

And that, alongside all of the other reasons (or perhaps undergirding them), is the reason that I think being ghosted cuts us to the core; it brings into question the very reality of our existence.  

‘Do you really believe that the moon only exists when you look at it?’ 

Einstein’s question may feel a little abstract but it’s actually as tangible and personal as it gets. 

Review
Culture
Film & TV
Monsters
4 min read

How to do the Devil’s work in modern America

The Bondsman ‘literal evil’ fits so easily into today.

Giles Gough is a writer and creative who host's the 'God in Film’ podcast.

A bondsman looks to a colleague.
Kevin Bacon and Jolene Purdy star.
Amazon Studios.

The Bondsman looks like the kind of story we’ve seen many times before, but look closer and you’ll see some fascinating insights.  

The show dropped on Amazon Prime last Thursday, starring Kevin Bacon as murdered bounty hunter Hub Halloran, who is resurrected by the Devil to hunt demons that have escaped from the prison of Hell. Hub learns how his own sins got his soul condemned, which pushes him to seek a second chance at life, love, and bizarrely enough, country music. 

After being murdered in an all-too visual pre-credits sequence, Hub is resurrected, and after seeing some supernatural horrors he can’t explain, Hub is quickly sent chasing down those demons with the help (and often hinderance) of his mother played by Beth Grant. They receive instructions on which demons to capture via fax. The demons are suitably unsettling, with their red pinprick-of-light eyes and gravity defying leaps. As scary as they are, they are also helpful enough to get themselves killed with conventional weapons and burst into flames as soon as they die, saving Hub the inconvenience of having to dispose of the bodies.  

In the first few episodes, it would be easy to dismiss The Bondsman as schlocky genre fiction. Kevin Bacon easily leans into the laconic, foul-mouthed cynic, more comfortable with ultra-violence than discussing his emotions. The Southern Gothic is an aesthetic we’ve seen in more Amazon Prime shows than we care to remember at this point, and the gore is at the level you would expect from horror experts; Blumhouse, and the setting of rural Georgia, is reminiscent of The Walking Dead. You could be forgiven for leaving this show at the pilot and not returning to it. But if you can make it through the formulaic first few episodes (which are mercifully short, 35 minutes at the longest) your patience is likely to be rewarded.  

For any viewers familiar with Angel or Constantine, the idea of a hero who fights evil but is still damned to hell for their past actions, is well worn territory. But if we look at Hub’s ‘co-ordinator’ Midge (Jolene Purdy) we get a small insight into the banality of evil. Midge is coerced into selling her soul to the devil in order to save her dying infant son. This highlights how often people are drawn into corruption because they were forced to pick the lesser of two impossible evils. As Midge’s own ‘co-ordinator’ tells her: “The fastest path to hell: selling your soul to help someone you love”. Midge’s son is ‘miraculously’ healed, so long as she continues to meet her quota of convincing people to sell their souls. It seems the devil has a better health plan than corporate America. 

Those subtle jabs at corporate America make the show quietly subversive. The devil’s minions here appear as the ‘Pot O’ Gold’ company, a slimy operation that preys on the weak and perpetuates misery in order to benefit a faceless boss. What’s interesting is how ‘literal evil’ fits so easily into the model of a capitalist corporation. Whilst many US politicians may decry the evils of socialism, it seems that as far as evil in America in The Bondsman is concerned, the call is coming from inside the house.  

It's true that God is largely absent from this story. In the same way that competent, protective parents are absent from children’s novels. If he was present, that would undercut a lot of the narrative tension. Despite this, it’s interesting how even in a world where characters reference and believe in the existence of God, virtually none of the characters think to pray or ask for his help. It brings to mind the C.S. Lewis quote about how “the doors of hell are locked on the inside". 

This might possibly be the show’s greatest contribution. What we can see from The Bondsman is God in the inverse, a negative image. Instead of the hope of an eternal life, they’re faced with the numbing despair of lasting torment. Hub and Midge are sent out on missions by a faceless, uncaring ‘boss’ rather than a loving intimate father, forced into being corporate co-workers rather than found family. Once it moves past the adolescent gore-for-gore’s sake of the first few episodes, it seems The Bondsman might have a fantasy world worth exploring. 

Celebrate our 2nd birthday!

Since March 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,000 articles. All for free. This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.
If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.
Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief