The Art of Disappearing: Why 'Yes' Often Means 'Maybe' in Saudi Arabia

One of the things I still don’t understand about Saudi social life is the art of disappearing.

Over the past year, I’ve reached out to dozens of Saudis for interviews for my website. I wanted their voices alongside the foreign ones—not just experts, but regular people from different cities, backgrounds, and professions. A few replied. Some didn’t. And quite a few enthusiastically agreed, only to quietly vanish—like magicians with excellent manners.

At first, I took it personally. Did I say something wrong? Was my email too formal? Too informal? Was I too eager? Too dull? Too… available? Over time, I began to suspect I was dealing with something more cultural than personal.

I grew up with it, but it still throws me. You meet someone at a gathering, you get along, they say, “We have to meet again!”—and then disappear into the social mist. If you call, they sound surprised, as if you’d followed up on a joke no one expected to land. If you don’t, you might later hear, “Why didn’t you reach out?”

There’s no winning move.

Somewhere between hospitality and hesitation lies a quiet code I’ve never cracked. A warm “yes” might mean “no, but nicely.” A soft “maybe” could mean “not in this lifetime.” And silence? That’s anyone’s guess.

These days, I’ve learned to treat interviews like a social lottery. One woman kindly agreed—until I admitted I couldn’t figure out how to send a Zoom link. I never heard from her again. I imagine she decided to pass on someone so technologically challenged.

There is also, still, a reserve about lending your name to a public opinion in this country. I understand that—even when the views I’m asking about are benignly positive. People simply aren’t used to offering their stance in a public forum, let alone being interviewed. That’s why you’ll often see quotes in Saudi Times from “an estate agent” or “a young teacher.” I’ve spoken to these people. But getting them on the record is another story.

Of course, I’d prefer more clarity. Even a polite “No thank you” feels like a breath of fresh air. But perhaps disappearing is just a gentle form of rejection—a way of stepping away without having to say so.

I haven’t figured it out. But I’ve stopped taking it to heart. The truth is, everyone vanishes now and then—and sometimes, I do too. The difference is, I still send a message before I disappear.

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