Texting
Ghosting has undeniably become a problem. Whether committed within the context of job applications, job resignations, dating apps, or the average text conversation between friends, family, or acquaintances, it seems to elicit the uglier aspects of human nature within social interaction. But I would argue that the issue is less in the act of ghosting itself, but more so in the act of being ignored. In the vast majority of real world social contexts where you aren’t interacting with toddlers, recalcitrant teenagers, or overly persistent peddlers and solicitors, no one is going to be ignoring each other in face-to-face conversations. Virtually no one with a semblance of emotional intelligence can possibly bear the agonizing awkwardness and shame that comes with the act of blatantly ignoring someone who is directly talking to us, and yet, we find it acceptable and commonplace to both intentionally ghost and inadvertently ghost when it comes to email or text—whether due to a technical error, messages getting buried when we’re busy, or simply forgetting to respond to messages. There’s something inherently unnatural, something poignantly dehumanizing about ghosting; this act of temporarily shutting out communication is virtually never a part of our real-life social interactions, yet it has become the norm of our interactions online and through our phones.
All this ultimately elicits the underlying problem of text conversation; it is an act so farfetched and disassociated from the nuances and minutiae that constitute the complex dance that we innately know as human communication. The fundamental issue is that we conceptualize the act of texting not so much as a utilitarian device to optimize barebones communication—a means of providing constant and seamless updates to inform others of certain information, or to arrange the details for events or appointments. Rather, we construe it as a substitutive simulation of conversation, wherein we instinctively superimpose our expectations of face-to-face interactions upon lifeless text. With that gaping void within our conceptualization of conversation, we are left to merely imagine what those nonverbal cues actually were; were they saying something in a sarcastic, aggressive, or gentle tone? Or was it something in between? Or something else entirely? To what extent does our impression of a message change depending on the degree of delay between responses? How do we feel when someone responds instantaneously? After five seconds? Thirty seconds? Five minutes? One hour? Five hours? After entire days or weeks? Or never? What about their particular choice of words or which grammatical structures they deployed, or how much proper punctuation they used? Is our perception faithful to the original message’s author, or is it much more likely that we’re imposing our own perception upon their words?
So is this truly a necessary evil we must endure in order to reap the benefits of the convenience of text communication? It’s incredibly unlikely that we’re all psychopaths, that we’re all cruel and insensitive individuals who simply don’t care about the quality of our conversations, if there’s even a conversation to be had in the first place. No, it’s far more likely that we were simply never taught how to use this ostensibly dehumanizing medium of social interaction in the first place. Our mistake is in believing that it is a substitute for real conversation. Instant messaging—or more broadly, social media in general—is a tool, and it needs to be treated like a tool. And just as we would expect a warning label when we buy, let’s say, a table saw, a tool that cuts off thousands of people’s fingers every year, or any other dangerous appliance, we might expect a similar warning label when we decide to utilize these apps. And yet none of them seem to posit any warning or disclaimer for its users, at least none that are at all obvious. Is that not profound negligence on their part? Because we’ve already acknowledged, whether as a society or through scientific consensus, the extreme psychological damage that excessive social media use can induce.
Here’s a rough outline of what I might propose:
Take all texts at face value. Remember that this is a tool, and not an actual conversation.
Do not assign any negative emotion or unrealistic expectations whatsoever to a message, or lack thereof.
Use video or phone calls when it’s urgent and important, and emails when it’s not time-sensitive.
Make your messages straightforward and goal-oriented. Avoid excessive texting to discuss anything that isn’t about accomplishing a goal.
Always keep in mind that there is a very high likelihood of misinterpretation on both sides of the conversation if the wrong wording is chosen, or if the conversation deviates into complex or emotionally-charged subjects.
Constantly acknowledge that texting doesn’t replicate the nonverbal cues of face-to-face conversation. Do not let your mind wander and play out what the conversation might look like in reality, because it is terrible at doing so.
If you wouldn’t do it in real life, don’t do it. Only say things to people that you would have the courage or mental fortitude to say to them face-to-face. And if we don’t ignore others in our actual day-to-day conversations, don’t decide that it’s okay in text.