Ghosting: Unpacking its disturbing acceptance and proposing a better way

Ghosting: Unpacking its disturbing acceptance and proposing a better way

Commentary by Andy Pope | FāVS News

The other day I saw a video on YouTube that disturbed me.

It didn’t disturb me as much as the last video I referenced, displaying the inhumanity of war. But it was still disturbing, because it touched on something that’s often bugged me about our current culture.

The video was one of many similar shows the algorithms recently decided I must attend. I think this particular presentation was called: “Quietly Remove Them from Your Life — and Watch What Happens!”

While it does seem sensible to quietly remove certain people from our lives, it was the “watch what happens” part that bugged me. They must have spent 15 minutes describing the unthinkable agony and torture the removed individual would experience if one were to cut them off suddenly without notice.

Seeing this rekindled my natural cynicism about the modern-day practice known as “ghosting.” I found myself revisiting some of the same themes I expressed on my very first column here on FāVS News.

More and more, I have watched this practice become increasingly acceptable in our society. And while I understand the value of removing toxic people from our lives, there are a couple things I don’t understand.

Unpacking the concept

In the first place, who decides who is toxic? Me, myself and I? If we are the ones deciding who is toxic and who is not, is that not a subjective judgment? I may be terribly old-fashioned, but I never make an assessment as to the toxicity of another human being unless they are either violating my rights or violating a certain law of God, whereby the Bible tells me to avoid such people. (2 Timothy 3:3-5, 1 Corinthians 5:9-12)

Secondly, if I have already established some kind of relationship with the other person, I don’t think it’s fair to simply disappear on them, without any kind of conclusive statement or explanation.

The reason why I don’t think so can be summed up in three words: The Golden Rule.

“In everything, then, do to others as you would have them do to you. For this is the essence of the Law and the Prophets.” (Matthew 7:12)

Now of course I grew up with the Golden Rule. My mother was always asking me: “How would you like it if they did that to you?”

“I wouldn’t,” I would reply.

“Well then,” she would say, “don’t do it to them.”

My having grown up with this simple humane philosophy makes it especially challenging for me to stand by idly while my acquaintances ghost people, cancel people and suddenly fire others without warning. In fact, I’ve developed more problems for myself than I needed, when sometimes I’ve become appalled that someone is doing this.

To me it seems a horrible thing, devaluing everything I was ever taught about morals, manners and common courtesy. But they were not taught the same things I was taught — and I must accept this.

I’ve had to learn that just because I was brought up with a certain standard — even though I personally embrace that standard as a universal truth — I cannot expect others to embrace the same standard.

At the same time, it was almost impossible for me to abide the sense of horror I felt when someone I’d known for years was nice to me one day, and the next day walked by without greeting or salutation — as though I had suddenly ceased to exist.

This happened again the following day, and the day after that. For, we both frequented a certain establishment. Apparently that restaurant was not big enough for the two of us.

I thought about ceasing to patronize the restaurant. Then people told me, “You can’t just give up your normal daily routine because one person is ghosting you!”

It was as though the ghosting had become acceptable as commonplace, and I would be a wimp or a coward if I made any accommodations accordingly. So I followed the counsel of the current culture, and forsook the wisdom buried deep inside me, beneath myriad head-trips and hurt.

Then one day, that person passed closely in a certain position — a certain psychic staging if you will — and something that slept fitfully within me was awakened.

That something was Complex PTSD.

A personal trigger

It took me a long time to get to sleep that night. When I was finally waking up the next day, I saw myself sitting on the sidewalk where I used to fly my sign in Berkeley. In my half-sleep this same person walked past me when I was homeless — as many did. They seemed not to acknowledge my existence. They seemed to invalidate my humanity every time they walked by.

I’ve also learned that we all do this with homeless people in big cities. I do it myself. In crowded cities where homelessness festers, how can we possibly be expected to acknowledge every single person flying a sign on a sidewalk?

We can’t.

And yet when one is in that position, and day after day people do not acknowledge us or return our smiles and greetings, it can have the effect of gradually eroding one’s self-esteem. After all, if one is treated like a piece of shit day after day, year after year, eventually one internalizes it, and begins to believe it.

So both on a moral and on a psychological level, my response to ghosting might be more severe than that of others.

Maybe I need for it to happen more often.

Maybe I need to become desensitized to its effects — just the way I eventually became desensitized, all those years I lived on the streets.

Maybe all the chronic ghosters and ghostees among us are in the same manner desensitized.

Maybe desensitization is a goal for us all to strive for — in order to cope with the perils of modern life.

I think not.

A better way

Reflecting on how shocked and hurt I was when this happened, I have decided to apply the Golden Rule to my experience. If I no longer want to hang with someone, I will leave them a brief message with a mild explanation, letting them know I am disconnecting — and then actually disconnect.

I say “actually disconnect” for a reason. I think people who ghost others are often afraid to have any further contact with the person they’ve decided to ghost. They fear that any contact at all will start the whole toxic ball rolling again.

I think the solution is courage.

And courage is a part of love.

“There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear, because fear involves punishment. The one who fears has not been perfected in love.” (1 John 4:18)

The extent to which fear involves punishment does not apply only to our own selves. Our fears can also punish the people we’re afraid of. When we’re afraid to connect with someone who has come to expect an ongoing connection, we essentially punish them by messing with their heads.

And why punish anyone further? Between the two of us, there’s already been enough punishment.

Here’s a generic statement that could be made to just about anyone in such a context.

“Dear Sally,

You and have been friends for a long time. But it seems we’ve drifted apart. While I respect your right to hold your own opinion, I find your views on abortion to be hurtful. Too hurtful for me to continue to hear them. So I’ve decided not to talk to you anymore, and I request you don’t contact me. That said, I sincerely wish you nothing but the best. — Susan”

Now what’s so hard about that? Nothing, really. Especially in these days of phone texts, emails and Facebook messages. It’s easy to do. It can be done from a distance. So why don’t people do it?

It’s not just that they’re afraid. More to the point, they’re selfish. They are thinking only of themselves and their welfare, and not of the welfare of the other human being. And selfishness has nothing to do with love. (Philippians 2:4)

How much better off I’d have been if the person who ghosted me had extended that final courtesy! Even if I could never understand their reasons, at least I would have been informed.

Universal love

Our culture places a lot of emphasis on loving ourselves. This is all well and good, for who are we to condemn ourselves? It’s not our business to hate anyone, let alone ourselves.

But the problem with self-love is that too often, a person’s love stops there. They are so focused on freeing themselves from guilt and shame, they forget to love anyone else in the process. And love, as I’ve often written, is a two way street. 

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” (Matthew 5:43-45)

This is one of numerous Scriptures that speak to the equality of all. Even the unrighteous are our equals on this planet. God sends his rain on just and unjust alike.

So while I would be a fool to beat the dead horses of dysfunctional friendships, I would be equally remiss if I thought I could get away with ditching them unilaterally, as though there had never been a connection to begin with.

When the Lord says “love our enemies,” he never advises us to buddy up to them. Yet though they may be bitter adversaries in this world, they are still children under his sun and his rain.

I say, the best thing to do is to leave them — but to leave them with courtesy, closure and grace. And then, to continue to love them — from a distance.

The views expressed in this opinion column are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of FāVS News. FāVS News values diverse perspectives and thoughtful analysis on matters of faith and spirituality.