台灣被稱為「鬼島」這個說法，並非源自民間俚語或歷史地名，而是出自近代政治與網路文化的交織結果。其關鍵起點，普遍被認為來自一位前新聞局官員郭冠英，他曾以筆名發表評論文章，帶有強烈貶抑意味地將台灣稱為「鬼島」。這個詞彙在當時引發爭議，卻也意外地被網路社群，特別是 PTT 的使用者迅速吸收、轉化，從原本的侮辱性標籤，演變成一種帶有自嘲、反諷與宣洩不滿情緒的流行語。

在網路語境中，「鬼島」逐漸成為用來批評台灣各種社會現象的統稱。低薪卻高工時的勞動環境、房價長期脫離一般薪資水準、空屋率居高不下卻年輕人買不起房、司法判決常被質疑不公或與民意脫節，以及政治人物頻繁爆出的貪腐、權鬥與選舉操作，都成為「鬼島」一詞反覆被提及的背景。當類似事件發生時，網路上常見「鬼島不意外」的說法，這並非冷漠，而是一種對長期無力感的集體苦笑。

政治層面也是「鬼島」一詞流行的重要推力。部分民眾對政府施政效率、制度改革停滯、官僚體系僵化感到失望，便透過這種帶有戲謔色彩的稱呼來表達不滿。同時，媒體環境的品質問題，如過度聳動、立場先行、缺乏查證，也常被戲稱為「鬼島媒體」，進一步強化這個詞在公共討論中的存在感。

若追溯更早的歷史脈絡，「鬼島」並非完全憑空出現。在日治時期，由於台灣曾多次爆發瘟疫，加上當時衛生條件落後，部分日本人曾以「鬼界之島」形容台灣，帶有對疾病與環境的恐懼意味。不過，這種說法在現代語境中的影響相對有限，更多只是後來被拿來補充說明詞彙的歷史背景。更諷刺的是，台灣在更早之前，曾被葡萄牙水手讚譽為「福爾摩沙」，也就是「美麗之島」，顯示同一塊土地在不同時代、不同視角下，會被賦予截然不同的想像與評價。

進入近年，「鬼島」的用法也出現更複雜的層次。一方面，它仍是宣洩不滿的出口；另一方面，也帶有反串與警醒的意味。有人以「逃離鬼島」來諷刺年輕世代被迫外流的現實，有人則在批判之餘，隱含對改變現狀的期待。此外，隨著台灣在國際政治與外交空間中經常被忽視，有國際媒體以「幽影之國」形容台灣的處境，這種說法在某種程度上也與「鬼島」所反映的「被看見卻又被忽略」的集體感受產生了呼應。

總體而言，「鬼島」並不是對台灣土地或人民的詛咒，而是一個高度情緒化、文化化的符號。它承載特定時期社會大眾對政治、經濟、司法與生活壓力的失望與焦慮，也反映出台灣社會善於用幽默、自嘲來面對困境的特質。正因如此，這個詞才能在爭議中持續流通，成為理解台灣當代社會心態的一面鏡子。

The term “Ghost Island” used to refer to Taiwan did not originate from folk slang or a historical place name, but rather from a convergence of modern political discourse and online culture. Its commonly acknowledged starting point traces back to a former Government Information Office official, Kuo Kuan-ying, who published opinion pieces under a pen name in which he disparagingly referred to Taiwan as a “ghost island.” Although the phrase was controversial at the time, it was quickly picked up by online communities—especially users on PTT—and transformed from a derogatory label into a form of self-mockery, irony, and emotional release.

Within internet discourse, “Ghost Island” gradually became a shorthand for criticizing a wide range of social problems in Taiwan. Persistent low wages combined with long working hours, housing prices far outpacing average incomes, high vacancy rates alongside unaffordable homes for young people, court rulings often perceived as unjust or disconnected from public sentiment, and frequent scandals involving political corruption, infighting, and election maneuvering all provided fertile ground for the term’s spread. When negative news breaks, comments such as “It’s Ghost Island again—no surprise” often appear online, expressing not indifference but a collective sense of resignation and bitter humor.

Politics has also been a major driver behind the popularity of the term. Some citizens feel disillusioned by what they see as inefficient governance, stalled reforms, and rigid bureaucratic systems, and they use “Ghost Island” as a sarcastic way to voice their dissatisfaction. Media problems—such as sensationalism, partisan bias, and a lack of fact-checking—are likewise mocked with phrases like “Ghost Island media,” further embedding the term in public discussion.

Looking further back, “Ghost Island” is not entirely without historical echoes. During the Japanese colonial period, Taiwan experienced repeated outbreaks of disease, and poor sanitation led some Japanese observers to refer to the island as a “realm of ghosts,” reflecting fear of illness and environment. However, this historical usage plays only a minor role in the modern meaning of the term and is mostly cited as background. Ironically, even earlier, Portuguese sailors famously praised Taiwan as “Formosa,” meaning “the beautiful island,” illustrating how the same land has been perceived in dramatically different ways across time and perspectives.

In recent years, the usage of “Ghost Island” has taken on additional layers. On one hand, it remains an outlet for frustration; on the other, it is often used in a tongue-in-cheek or cautionary manner. Phrases like “escape from Ghost Island” sarcastically highlight the reality of youth brain drain, while also hinting at a desire for change. Moreover, as Taiwan is frequently overlooked or marginalized in the international arena, some foreign journalists have described it as a “shadow nation,” a characterization that resonates with the sense of invisibility implied by the term “Ghost Island.”

In essence, “Ghost Island” is not a curse directed at Taiwan’s land or people, but a highly emotional and culturally loaded symbol. It reflects deep-seated dissatisfaction, anxiety, and frustration with politics, the economy, the legal system, and everyday life during specific periods, while also showcasing Taiwan society’s tendency to confront hardship through humor and self-deprecation. For this reason, the term continues to circulate despite controversy, serving as a revealing lens through which to understand contemporary Taiwanese social sentiment.