Article
Attention
Culture
Digital
Ghosting
Psychology
5 min read

Ghosting is not immature, it’s plain cruel

The dehumanising behaviour hiding in plain sight.

Belle is the staff writer at Seen & Unseen and co-host of its Re-enchanting podcast.

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
Digital
Fun & play
4 min read

The grand narrative that’s made it on mobile

The Serpent & The Seed is a welcome addition to the cosy games genre.

Giles Gough is a writer and creative who hosts the God in Film podcast.

A mobile game still shows a robin standing close to a seated man.
Mungo and Adam.

The Serpent & The Seed is a game with a difference: an imaginative retelling of the world's greatest story. In a world overtaken by an evil serpent, you play the character of Mungo, a young robin encouraged by his owl friend to read an old, mostly forgotten book that holds the promise for salvation.   

Released last Easter by Discipleship Tech (the creators of the Prayer Mate app) The Serpent & The Seed aims to tells the story of the Bible as a mobile adventure game. Turning the Bible story into an app feel like quite a novel idea. A cursory search shows that there’s no shortage of Bible based games to play on your phone, but most of them appear to be quiz or trivia based. Seeing this grand narrative, from creation to crucifixion, in game form feels both novel and inevitable, how you might imagine seeing the gospel story be put on film for the first time. “Throughout history, Christians have created, shaped and used technology for God’s glory” the Discipleship Tech website tells us; seen in that light, using a mobile game to deliver the gospel is simply the next step in a line of technological use that stretches back to the invention of the codex.  

Although the game has only been in development for just over four years, it’s had a much longer gestation period than that. “It's an idea I've had for about 20 years now,” says project leader, Andy Geers, “I grew up playing lots of computer games and knowing Jesus and getting to know the Bible better… So I kind of thought: wouldn't it be great if we could combine those two things?” Geers says that the catalyst for this game was a research project. According to the Bible Society’s Lumino research project, a quarter of the UK population are "open to the Bible and finding out more". The Serpent & The Seed is Geers’ way of meeting that need.  

This is clearly a labour of love for all involved and it shows. The dialogue sparkles with cheeky irreverence at times thanks to scriptwriting from Amy Green (BAFTA-winning writer/developer of That Dragon Cancer, the video game centring on the loss of her infant son, Joel). Ostensibly aimed for players ‘9+’, the narrative has to dance around some of the more unpleasant parts of the Old Testament, which it does so lightly and humorously. At one point in the Garden of Eden level, Adam tells our robin character Mungo, that naming things is hard work, and he needs a rest. Mungo then ponders whether Adam has any idea what hard work is! The framing narrative of talking animals in a world full of thistles and thorns ruled by an evil tyrant has shades of Narnia, which may have been an unconscious influence and is very much appreciated.  

One particular highlight is the musical interludes. The developers aimed for the music to be a leading character in this mobile game, and the score was composed by song-writing duo Poor Bishop Hooper. When you unlock another chapter in the game, the almost transcendent songs kick in, combined with the logo appearing in its beautiful lettering, creating an enjoyable experience. It also features music from Canadian artist Jim Guthrie, whose Superbrothers: Sword & Sworcery EP was something of an inspiration for the atmosphere of the whole game.  

The game appears to be connecting with the public, many of whom are praising its art design. Greg Clifton’s illustrations are soothing and light-hearted (I’m pretty sure Moses is rocking an awesome quiff). “It seems to be pitched as a chilled, interactive story with some minor puzzle solving, a subgenre that is increasingly popular these days,” writes gamer and RS teacher Natalie Minaker. “I imagine that this game can provide a few hours of mental respite to any stressed-out Christians!”  

Unfortunately, the lack of challenge is hard to avoid mentioning. As this game is telling a very well-established story, there’s very little jeopardy and as a result, the pace lags a little in parts. “The gameplay is gentle and seems to promote a sense of mindfulness rather than any real sense of peril or challenge,” continues Minaker. In certain levels there are Christian themed takes on popular mobile games - Angry Birds, Flappy Bird, and even Snake (which will be a pang of nostalgia for those of us who had a Nokia in the 90s). What is clear is that playability takes a back seat to story here, and when that story is the Bible, that’s understandable. There’s also a distinctly estuary English accent to the voices shouting “hosanna” as Jesus enters Jerusalem on a donkey which might momentarily take you out of the story, but this is merely nitpicking.  

Whether it will effectively compete for pre-teens’ attention in a saturated market remains to be seen, but this is another useful tool to have in a kids or youth leader’s toolkit. It might also serve as the kind of homework an RE teacher could set that the students might enjoy completing! Older gamers or committed Christians might not find much of the content particularly revelatory, but they may find its gentle pace and soothing aesthetics a welcome addition to the emerging ‘cosy games’ genre. 

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