Non-Playable Character: In gaming, an NPC (sometimes called bot) is a simple automated character that is not controlled by the player, often used to populate the game world and provide quests or information.
A Frustrating Reality With Some People
Here’s something to discuss for fun: I’m starting to wonder if some people are actually… there. Not physically—they’re obviously standing right in front of you—but emotionally, mentally, spiritually. Like they’re running on some basic programming that makes them look human but doesn’t include the software for genuine engagement.
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Maybe this sounds crazy, but hear me out.
Last week, I asked someone close to me for a simple favor—share something on social media that matters to me. Takes literally 30 seconds. The response? Nothing. Not “I’m busy,” not “I don’t feel comfortable with that.” Just… silence. Like I’d asked a wall to help me move furniture.
This isn’t the first time. It’s a pattern I’ve noticed my whole life, and lately, it’s got me wondering: are some people just non-playing characters in this elaborate game we call existence? Are they just bots to make up the numbers or get in the way?
Have you ever wondered if someone in your life is just… not really there?
The Matrix We Might Be Living In
If you think life is totally random, then maybe everyone walking around should be equally real and engaged. It makes sense that most people actively participating in your environment would be genuine conscious beings.
But what if this life is more like a sophisticated video game or the Matrix from the movies? Then it would make perfect sense that some characters are pre-programmed to be helpful, neutral, or completely ineffective—background players designed to fill space while the real players navigate the actual challenges.
Think about it: we’re all so dramatically different. Is that by design? We differ in everything from basic beliefs about existence to whether we care about our fellow humans. Some people seem hardwired for kindness, others for indifference, and some for active harm.
When I ask someone for help—even something tiny—and get absolutely nothing back, I have to wonder: is this a conscious choice to be unhelpful, or are they simply not equipped with the programming to engage?
Do you think some people are running on autopilot, going through the motions without really being present?
The Emotional Vacuum
Here’s what really gets to me: the complete absence of emotional communication. Not anger, not disagreement, not even polite deflection. Just… nothing. You ask for an honest opinion and nada! Like trying to advance with a little direction, but coming up against a brick wall.
I recently paid two different people on Fiverr who claimed to have hundreds of thousands of followers to help promote something important to me. The results? Absolutely nothing noticeable. I say this with a kind of smile because I’ve learned the world is somewhat corrupt and people can be naturally selfish, but it perfectly illustrates the point: some people just go through the motions without any real engagement or connection.
These aren’t necessarily bad people. They’re not actively trying to hurt anyone. They’re just… empty. Like NPCs in a video game who respond to basic prompts but have no deeper programming or need for genuine interaction.
Have you noticed people in your life who seem incapable of basic emotional engagement?
When Those Closest to You Feel Like Strangers
The most unsettling version of this happens with people who should theoretically care about you. Family members, close friends, people who’ve known you for years. You ask for advice, an opinion, even just acknowledgment of something important to you, and you get… radio silence.
Not because they’re angry or disagree. Not because they’re too busy—they’re posting on social media, living their lives, clearly capable of engagement when it suits them. They just seem incapable of extending even the smallest effort toward you.
It makes you wonder: are they even conscious of your existence as a real person with real needs? Or are you just another NPC to them, part of their background scenery that occasionally makes noise but doesn’t require actual response?
Do you have people close to you who seem incapable of simple acts of support or acknowledgment?
The Programming Question
Here’s where it gets philosophical: if some people are essentially NPCs, what’s their function? In video games, background characters serve specific purposes—they populate the world, provide obstacles, offer quests, or simply make the environment feel lived-in.
Maybe the emotionally vacant people in our lives serve similar functions. They’re there to test our patience, our expectations, our ability to find genuine connection among the noise. They might be programmed to be frustratingly unresponsive to help us learn who the real players are.
Or maybe they’re there to challenge us to become more self-reliant, to stop seeking validation or help from sources that simply aren’t equipped to provide it. Their emptiness forces us to look elsewhere for connection and support.
What if the unresponsive people in your life are there to teach you something about where to invest your energy?
The Darker Implications
This raises a troubling question: if someone is surrounded by NPCs—people who seem present but offer no genuine emotional connection—what happens to their sense of reality? Their mental health?
Some people give up feeling completely alone despite being surrounded by others. Is it because they are unlucky enough to be placed in a game surrounded by non-playing characters? People who look human but lack the programming for real empathy, support, or connection?
It’s a haunting thought. Maybe the ones who struggle most are the real players trying to connect with programmed characters who simply can’t connect back. No wonder isolation feels so crushing when you’re reaching out to what seems like a world full of responsive beings, only to discover most of them are running on basic scripts.
Have you ever felt like you’re the only real person in a room full of people going through the motions?
The Evidence All Around Us
Look around and the evidence seems everywhere. People walking through life on autopilot. Conversations that feel scripted. Responses that seem generated rather than felt. The person who says “let me know if you need anything” but disappears the moment you actually need something.
The family member who can’t spare 30 seconds to acknowledge something important to you but can spend hours scrolling social media. The friend who seems physically present but emotionally absent during every interaction.
These aren’t necessarily evil people. They might be genuinely good NPCs programmed to be generally pleasant and non-threatening. But when you need actual human connection, actual support, actual engagement—they simply don’t have that capability.
What percentage of people do you think are actually conscious and present versus just going through the motions?
The Real Players
This makes the real players—the genuinely conscious, emotionally present people—incredibly precious. You know them when you find them. They respond. They engage. They seem to actually see you as a real person rather than background scenery in their personal movie.
When you ask them for something, they either help or give you a real reason why they can’t. When you share something important, they acknowledge it. When you’re struggling, they notice. Not because they’re saints, but because they’re actually there—conscious, present, operating with the full range of human software.
Maybe the whole point is learning to identify these real players and invest your emotional energy there, rather than exhausting yourself trying to get responses from programmed characters who simply aren’t capable of genuine connection.
How do you tell the difference between real players and NPCs in your own life?
The Unanswerable Question
I don’t have answers to any of this. Maybe everyone is real and some people are just really, really bad at being human. Maybe consciousness exists on a spectrum and some people are running on minimal settings. Maybe I’m just frustrated with human nature and looking for explanations that make sense of senseless behavior.
Or maybe we really are in some elaborate simulation, and recognizing the NPCs is part of the challenge. Maybe learning to focus on the real players while not getting frustrated with the programmed ones is how you level up in this game.
All I know is that when someone consistently shows you they’re incapable of basic engagement—when they demonstrate again and again that they don’t have the programming for genuine connection—maybe it’s time to stop expecting human responses from what might be sophisticated background characters.
Are you wasting energy trying to connect with people who simply aren’t equipped to connect back?
The Liberation
There’s something oddly liberating about this perspective. If some people are just NPCs, then their lack of response isn’t a reflection of your worth or the importance of what you’re asking. It’s just their programming. You wouldn’t get frustrated with a vending machine for not offering emotional support—why get frustrated with an NPC for not providing human connection?
This doesn’t mean becoming cynical or giving up on people. It means learning to identify the real players and investing your precious emotional energy there. It means not taking the silence personally when you ask for help and get nothing back.
Maybe the real skill in this life isn’t getting everyone to respond to you—maybe it’s learning to distinguish between those who can and those who simply aren’t equipped to.
So what do you think? Are some people in your life just not really there? Have you noticed patterns of complete emotional absence that make you wonder what’s actually going on behind those eyes?
Share your thoughts below. I respond to every comment, and your experience often helps others more than mine does.
