Spaces that feel place-like yet sit beyond conventional geography
In the quieter corridors of the internet, millions have begun visiting places that cannot be found on any map — eerie, looping digital spaces known as the Backrooms, built entirely through collective imagination. Researchers at Lancaster University have named this emerging behavior "para-terrestrial dark tourism," recognizing that the human impulse to seek out the strange, the unsettling, and the unknown has found a new home in participatory digital worlds. The phenomenon asks an old question in a new way: what does it mean to be somewhere, to feel the weight of a place, when that place exists nowhere at all?
- Millions are navigating fluorescent-lit, impossible hallways that exist only in digital culture — and the emotional pull feels as real as any physical destination.
- Lancaster University researchers have had to coin an entirely new term, "para-terrestrial dark tourism," because existing frameworks for understanding travel and place simply couldn't account for what was happening.
- The Backrooms thrive in loosely regulated internet spaces, sustained by communities of "legend-trippers" who continuously layer narrative, atmosphere, and unease onto these imagined environments.
- A24's development of a Backrooms film signals that what began as a niche internet phenomenon is accelerating toward mainstream cultural recognition — and the questions it raises are following close behind.
- The research suggests a fundamental redefinition is underway: the internet is no longer just infrastructure for planning physical travel, but a destination in its own right, capable of haunting its visitors.
Somewhere in the internet's less visible corners, millions of people are walking through hallways that don't exist — endless office corridors, abandoned basements, fluorescent-lit passages that loop back on themselves impossibly. These spaces are called the Backrooms, and researchers at Lancaster University have given the behavior a name it didn't previously have: "para-terrestrial dark tourism."
Dr. Sophie James and Professor James Cronin set out to understand why these eerie digital worlds had become so compelling. Their research, published in the Annals of Tourism Research, found a broader shift in how people experience fear, curiosity, and belonging online. The internet, they argue, can operate as a destination itself — platforms where communities gather become participatory, self-contained environments rather than mere supplements to physical places.
The term "para-terrestrial" was chosen deliberately, signaling something that exists alongside or beyond the familiar. A highly active community of online legend-trippers sustains these worlds by continuously adding narrative and atmosphere, creating layers of meaning that feel absorbing and uneasy without requiring any physical presence.
The timing carries cultural weight. A24 is producing a Backrooms film, a sign that what began in loosely regulated internet corners is moving toward the mainstream — and bringing with it deeper questions about what it means to explore, to feel present somewhere, and to engage with risk in worlds mediated entirely through screens. If destinations can be built through digital participation rather than fixed to geography, then tourism itself is being fundamentally reimagined.
Somewhere in the internet's less visible corners, millions of people are walking through hallways that don't exist. They move through endless office corridors, descend into abandoned basements, navigate fluorescent-lit passages that loop back on themselves in impossible ways. None of it is real. All of it feels vivid enough to matter.
These spaces are called the Backrooms, and they have become something researchers at Lancaster University now call "para-terrestrial dark tourism"—a phrase that tries to name a phenomenon that didn't have a name before. The Backrooms emerge from collaborative storytelling communities where people share videos, diary entries, and creative material to collectively build and explore imagined environments. Unlike traditional dark tourism, which sends people to real locations tied to tragedy or history, the Backrooms exist entirely in digital culture. They are built by communities, inhabited by communities, and they feel like destinations even though you cannot reach them by any conventional means.
Dr. Sophie James and Professor James Cronin, both from Lancaster University Management School, set out to understand why these eerie, empty digital worlds had become so compelling. What they found was a broader shift in how people experience fear, curiosity, and belonging online. The research, published in the Annals of Tourism Research, suggests that the internet itself can operate as a destination—that platforms where online communities gather become participatory, self-contained environments rather than mere add-ons to physical places.
The term "para-terrestrial" was chosen deliberately. The prefix signals something that exists alongside or beyond the familiar, capturing spaces that cannot be visited in any traditional sense and whose form and meaning remain deliberately elusive. A highly active community of online "legend-trippers" sustains these worlds by continuously adding to them, creating layers of narrative and atmosphere that feel absorbing and uneasy. People engage with the uncertainty and discomfort of the Backrooms in ways that feel significant, even without physical presence.
Dr. James noted that people are increasingly drawn to intense emotional experiences in spaces that are not physically real but still feel vivid and meaningful. The research is especially timely given the cultural momentum building around these once-niche internet imaginaries. A24 is producing a Backrooms film, a sign that what began in loosely regulated corners of the internet is moving into mainstream attention. This shift raises questions about how digital culture is transforming what it means to explore, to feel present somewhere, and to engage with risk and ambiguity in worlds mediated entirely through screens.
The implications extend beyond the Backrooms themselves. If destinations can be flexible, creative, and built through digital participation rather than tied to fixed geographic locations, then tourism itself—the way people understand travel, exploration, and encounter—is being fundamentally redefined. The internet is no longer just a tool for planning trips to physical places. It is becoming a place itself, one where millions can wander together through spaces that feel real enough to haunt them, even though they exist nowhere at all.
Citações Notáveis
People are increasingly drawn to intense emotional experiences in spaces that are not physically real, but still feel vivid and meaningful.— Dr. Sophie James, Lancaster University
The internet can operate as a destination in its own right, with platforms becoming participatory, self-contained environments rather than simple add-ons to real-world locations.— Research findings, Annals of Tourism Research
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why do you think people are drawn to spaces that are deliberately unsettling and impossible to fully understand?
There's something about the uncertainty itself that matters. The Backrooms don't have clear rules or endings. You can't "solve" them. That ambiguity creates a kind of freedom—you're not being told what to feel or where to go. You're discovering it alongside thousands of other people.
But couldn't they just watch a horror film if they wanted that feeling?
A film is something done to you. The Backrooms are something you do. You're not a passive viewer—you're a participant in building the world. When you share a story or a video, you're adding to something real that other people will experience. That's the difference between consuming fear and creating it together.
Does it matter that it's not a physical place?
That's the question the research is really asking. We've always thought of tourism as movement through geography. But if a destination is defined by shared participation and collective meaning-making, then the Backrooms are as much a destination as any city. The geography is just different—it's made of narrative and community instead of streets and buildings.
What happens when a film studio gets involved? Does that change what the Backrooms are?
It probably does. Right now, the Backrooms belong to the communities that built them. A mainstream film might crystallize them into something fixed and consumable. That could destroy the very thing that makes them compelling—the uncertainty, the sense that they're still being discovered and shaped by the people exploring them.
So you're saying the Backrooms might not survive becoming popular?
Not exactly. But there's a real tension between keeping something alive as a living, evolving community creation and turning it into a product. The research suggests we're at a moment where that's about to be tested.