How to avert tragedy in the age of social media

I’m talking about read messages. Ones that have been consumed by someone’s cornea, cognitively processed and perhaps chuckled at, but for which there is no outward evidence. Nada. No blue ticks.

For the uninitiated (if any exist), blue ticks on WhatsApp are not just a social signal, but part of modern online messaging etiquette. Sent a message? Two grey ticks mean it was delivered. Two blue ticks mean it was read. No blue ticks can spell existential angst.

Now imagine sending a carefully crafted message—perhaps a witty one-liner, a risky proposal, or worse, a confirmation of dinner plans—and being met with… radio silence. No response. And worse, no blue ticks.

Has it been read? Has it even got a glance? Are you being ghosted? Or is the recipient just unbothered? Or did the person fall off a Himalayan cliff? The answer, of course, is that the app’s ‘read receipts’ feature has been turned off.

It’s the equivalent of saying, “I’m not ignoring you, I just don’t like the pressure of replying.” Oh, please. You left me hanging like an unread ‘Terms & Conditions’ pop-up. My first impulse was to dismiss such behaviour as a passive-aggressive rejection of accountability.

But being a person of some academic inclination, I decided to investigate further. Surely, there must be some research on this epidemic of blue-tick dodging? Turns out, there is.

In the age of instant messaging, there’s an unspoken contract: If I message you and you’ve read it, I expect a timely response.

This expectation, known in behavioural circles as ‘reciprocal immediacy,’ is reinforced by digital cues like blue ticks, ‘typing’ and ‘online’ indicators and ‘last seen’ time-stamps. These markers transform casual interactions into psychological minefields.

Disabling blue ticks, then, becomes a way to opt out of the tyranny of constant availability. A 2021 study in Information Technology & People (shorturl.at/1Muug) found that individuals who turned off read receipts reported lower social pressure and digital fatigue.

They felt more in control of communication patterns, less trapped in what clinical psychologist and the founder of MIT’s Initiative on Technology and Self, Sherry Turkle, calls the feeling of “you want to know who wants you.”

Translation? Blue-tick disablers don’t have a problem with you. They just don’t like the idea of having to respond immediately.

Of course, there’s a darker side to this too. Research in communication theory suggests that ambiguity in digital interactions can be a subtle power move.

‘Strategic ambiguity,’ like leaving messages unread or turning off read receipts, can be used to assert control in relationships online, especially when hierarchies are unclear or shifting.

When your colleague says, “Didn’t see your message until this morning,” but the time-stamp says otherwise, it’s not forgetfulness. It’s office Darwinism.

And in personal relationships, this dynamic can border on emotional hostage-taking. You’re left second-guessing yourself—was I too needy? Too blunt? Too emoji-heavy? It’s not just about the message anymore. It’s about the meaning behind the non-message.

Let’s also not underestimate how badly our brains handle ambiguity. Built for binary clarity (friend or foe, food or poison), the human brain does not like Schrödinger’s read-or-unread mystery.

Studies in cognitive neuroscience show that uncertainty activates the amygdala—the brain’s fear centre—more than clearly negative outcomes. In other words, knowing you’ve been rejected hurts. But not knowing if you’ve been rejected? That can drive you mad.

Which brings me back to my chronic frustration: people who have turned off blue ticks aren’t just preserving their mental peace. They are spreading digital neurosis. You may feel calmer. I, on the other hand, am spiralling. Some argue that turning off blue ticks is about reclaiming digital boundaries.

In a world of 24/7 messages, it’s tempting to ghost the world under the noble banner of self-care. And yes, WhatsApp does this annoying thing: if you turn off blue ticks, you can’t see others’ blue ticks. A fair symmetry, perhaps, but it feels unfair.

So what’s the solution? Mandatory read receipts? A blue-tick audit trail? Not quite. But maybe we can create a culture of compassionate digital honesty. If you need time to respond, say so.

If you’ve read something but can’t reply, send a thumbs-up. Digital clarity may not solve climate change or world hunger, but can help keep our minds less scrambled.

Meanwhile, I continue to send messages into the void. Staring at grey ticks like a character in a modern Greek tragedy. Waiting for the unread to become read. For silence to turn into speech. Or at least, a double blue tick.

Writer’s note: This piece has been read. Whether it’s been replied to is another matter. And these are the author’s personal views.

The author is professor of economics and policy and executive director, Centre for Family Business & Entrepreneurship at Bhavan’s SPJIMR.