In Islamic thought, the veil is more than a physical covering; it is a symbol of respect and reverence. God’s mercy, expressed through the name Al Sittar – the One who conceals faults – offers humanity a principle to live by: to honor both oneself and others. From this principle grows the moral and aesthetic foundation of privacy, a sense of proportion that once shaped how people lived, spoke and related to one another.
Over time, that consciousness has faded. Visibility has become a necessity, display has turned into a reflex. The boundary between the public and the private has blurred to the point of erasure. Especially with the growing dominance of social media in daily life, this urge to be seen has intensified. In pursuit of followers and approval, many have begun to construct lives that exist outside their own reality – performances rather than experiences. Among older generations, there was once a quiet wisdom that has nearly disappeared: the belief that what is truly valuable should be kept, not displayed. We now live under each other’s gaze, performing selves that can never be still. A new kind of human being has emerged – one who speaks endlessly, shares constantly, explains everything, yet rarely pauses to listen or reflect. The meanings once found in silence, restraint and inwardness have been largely forgotten.
Yet the idea of privacy is not only a social habit; it has a philosophical lineage. Philosophy reminds us of the measured distance humanity once held before existence itself. Heidegger wrote that truth, when fully exposed, loses its depth; everything that exists retains its meaning through a measure of concealment. Levinas, in turn, saw in distance the ethical foundation of human relations. Genuine respect is not in closing the gap, but in granting the other their space. Privacy, in this sense, becomes the cultural form of this wisdom – an attitude both self-contained and generous, inward yet open.
In the digital age, as people exhaust themselves under the constant demand to be visible, privacy must be redefined as a way of being. It is not withdrawal, but discernment – the ability to choose, to withhold certain knowledge, emotions and images from circulation. It is the rediscovery of meaning in silence, in restraint and in what is kept to oneself.
From a sociological perspective, rebuilding privacy could restore balance and depth to human relationships. To speak for understanding rather than recognition; to create not for display, but for the value of sharing – these are the beginnings of a new cultural equilibrium.
To recover privacy today does not mean isolation. It means discernment: knowing what to share and what to keep, allowing parts of life to remain unspoken, unshown, intact. It is a quiet practice of moderation and inner dignity.
Privacy is a forgotten elegance – one that shelters the most authentic connections a person can have: with oneself, with others, and with God. And perhaps the truest form of being still resides there, in the unseen space where no one is looking.
