jobseekers

IN THE corporate landscape of the Philippines, we talk endlessly about “culture.” We plaster noble words like integrity, excellence, and empathy on office walls, company handbooks, and LinkedIn bios. We pride ourselves on being a “family-oriented” workforce. Yet, there is a glaring, systemic disconnect happening daily in recruitment channels across the country: the normalization of digital ghosting.

We have all heard the standard sign-off. The interview ends, the camera light blinks off, or the handshake is exchanged, followed by the promise: “We will get back to you via email,” or “Wait for our update within the week.”

For a jobseeker, that sentence is not just casual conversation; it is a verbal contract. It is a lifeline of hope in a competitive market. But when days turn into weeks, and the inbox remains empty, that hope curdles into anxiety, and eventually, into resentment.

Let’s be unequivocal about this: If you are a recruiter or a hiring manager and you leave a candidate’s inbox empty after explicitly promising an update, you aren’t just “busy” or “overwhelmed.” You are breaking a fundamental social contract.

It is easy for hiring teams to view candidates as names on a spreadsheet or PDFs in a folder. But we must remember the human reality behind the application. In the Philippines, the cost of applying for a job is not just emotional; it is deeply tangible and financial.

Even if the “we’ll get back to you” promise refers to a digital update, the effort leading up to it was physical and costly. A candidate likely battled notorious traffic in Metro Manila or endured long commutes from nearby provinces—or traveled hours from cities and towns in Mindanao just to make it to an interview. They spent hard-earned money on fare, printed requirements, and decent attire.

For virtual interviews, they may have invested in data load or paid for a co-working space just to ensure a stable connection. They showed up. They prepared. They gave you their best self.

When you refuse to send that closing email, you are telling them that their time, their financial investment, and their dignity hold zero value to your organization. You are treating their effort as a disposable resource.

Why is this practice so pervasive in our local context? There seems to be a cultural hesitation, perhaps rooted in a misplaced sense of hiya (shame) or a non-confrontational desire to practice pakikisama. Many Filipino recruiters struggle with the discomfort of delivering bad news. They may believe that silence is a “politer” way to let someone down softly—a way to “spare feelings.”

But in the professional realm, this logic is flawed. “Sparing someone’s feelings” by ignoring their follow-up emails is not kindness; it is actually an act of cruelty. Silence leaves people guessing. Candidates begin to overthink. Did I say something wrong? Did my internet lag? Is the position still open? A clear “No” ends the suffering. Silence only prolongs it.

A rejection email is not an insult; it is a release. It allows a candidate to stop refreshing their browser, stop checking their spam folder, and redirect their mental energy toward an opportunity that actually exists.

We live in the age of automation. Most companies use Applicant Tracking Systems (ATS) or basic email tools. You do not need to write a novel for every applicant. You do not need to apologize profusely. A simple, template-based email stating, “Thank you for your time, but we have decided to move forward with another candidate,” is sufficient. It is professional, it is definitive, and it respects the recipient.

If you want to be a top-tier employer, go a step further. One sentence of genuine feedback—”We need someone with more proficiency in X software” or “We are looking for more leadership experience”—can be the catalyst that changes a candidate’s career trajectory. That is what true mentorship and industry leadership look like.

To the executives reading this: if you think ghosting is just a minor HR issue, think again. It is a branding issue. Recruitment is the first impression a company makes on the world. Candidates talk. They share their experiences on social media, in group chats, and on review platforms. If your hiring process ends in a void of silence, you are building a reputation of indifference. You are signaling that your organization is disorganized, lacks empathy, or simply does not care about people once they are no longer “useful.”

To the jobseekers obsessively refreshing their emails, wondering where they went wrong: stop. Do not internalize their lack of professional courtesy. If a company cannot spare thirty seconds to close the loop after you gave them hours of your life, they have already given you your answer.

If you treat outsiders this way when you are wooing them, how do you treat your employees once the contract is signed? Top talent pays attention to these red flags.

Silence is a signal. It is data. It tells you exactly how that company communicates, how they value human capital, and how they handle uncomfortable situations.

We need to humanize the hiring process again. We need to remember that behind every resume is a person trying to build a livelihood, not a file waiting to be archived. To hiring teams: be brave enough to hit “Send.” A rejection email is not cruelty—it is closure. And to candidates staring at empty inboxes: do not mistake silence for self-doubt.

Silence is a signal. It is data. Sometimes, it is the clearest answer you will ever receive—and the earliest warning of a workplace you are better off avoiding.

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Mhel Cedric D. Bendo is a student researcher and opinion writer in education and technology. He serves as a Qualified Proofing Editor for a peer-reviewed STEM journal, a Peer Reviewer for education, health, and STEM journals, an Invited Peer Reviewer for Scopus-indexed journal in technology and in distance learning and for a multidisciplinary international journal. He is also under consideration for a journal review and technical committee panel.