I’ve never truly felt comfortable in front of the lens of a camera. In fact, I rarely even like to look at photos of myself. It’s just that.. how I see myself and how I feel about myself in any given moment never quite seems to line up with how others see me. Or how the camera captures me. Or maybe it does, perfectly, which is why they can be so discomforting to me. Self-image can be a cruel bitch. I recall reading somewhere that the late Princess Diana felt similarly about photos, to the point where she would refuse to look at any picture of her printed in the papers. If that is true then I guess that is something we have(had) going for us. Which is cool, I guess.
Photographs used to mean something to us. This isn’t to say that they don’t mean something today. Rather that, their meaning to us is and has been, in so many ways, diminished. Picture books filled with photos from that first day of school, that High School graduation, and that family road trip to the Grand Canyon in Middle School have been replaced by and large with Instagram and Twitter and Facebook feeds of humble brags, thirst traps, and clout chasing. Photos used to capture some of our most cherished memories. Now, they’re used to capture everyone else’s attention for a moment. What were once intimately personal have become largely, superficially, public.
Social media isn’t necessarily the root cause of this vain utilitarian shift in photos, but, like the co-dependent couple who always seems to enable the worst in each other, it certainly seems to have enabled this shift. Through likes, comments, shares, and tags social media has quantified our experiences and relationships, and in turn, commodified them. We are incentivized to share content that attempts to acquire as many of these as possible. Actually.. maybe it is the root cause. The medium is the message after all. Right?
Today, we both outwardly and subconsciously seek places and experiences that are ‘story-worthy’ - that chic new restaurant with the angels’ wings painted on the brick wall outside, or that bar with the photogenic neon sign that makes the baroque drinks. We seek travel destinations that are ‘post-worthy’ - the walking-away-from-the-camera shot in Greece or Italy or Bali, or the costume photo in the watered-down, commercialized versions of what Burning Man or Tomorrowland once were. And all of this doesn’t even begin to dive into the lengths we go to in order to look ‘perfect’ for the camera: filters, fillers, make-up, extensions, microderm, spray tans, and brow/face/butt/cheek/everything lifts. Photos and stories that are created and shared in equal parts to capture the attention of others as they are to capture our own experience.
All of this is to say that this isn’t some boomer-esque rant on social media within the high-brow confines of writing. Writing included is far from immune to the variegated effects of this commodified attention economy. Writing platforms that incentivize content creation above everything else have resulted in long-form prose and genuine reflection being stripped away, only to be replaced with listicles, native advertising, and 280 character tweets. Our ‘newsfeeds’ today are almost entirely filled of pieces with clickbait titles and jejune content like:
- ‘What will become of pandemic pets post-Covid?’ (read: hard to say for sure, but they’ll probably keep on living)
- ‘I posed as a _______ online. Here’s what I learned.’ (read: I browsed an online forum for a few hours. Here’s my self-righteous hot-take)
and - ‘How I make $3k each month writing.’ (read: on ad revenue by pumping out 3 articles just like these every day)
Upon finishing any of these we would be hard pressed to say that we are the more informed for doing so, or that we’ve gained new perspectives, or broadened our level of understanding. Unless of course, you were interested in learning how to tergiversate a non-question, how to disguise reaction as reflection, and how to be able to monetize doing these things.
When I think about this - all of this - I always come back to a particular quote by the poet Mary Oliver;
“Attention without feeling.. is just a report.”
And this attention economy, along with the social media platforms that quantify its content and incentivize its creation above all else, ends up being exactly this - an endless stream of reports. Reports that we want to make look perfect. Reports that fight to appeal to as many people and to grab as many people’s attention as possible. This in turn has led to the disastrous combination of both gutting the authenticity of the content we share with each other, as well as the quality of attention we give things. If we’re not showing the world we’re out here #thriving and #living our best life, then why bother to share at all? And why bother to spend the time to connect with friends and family regularly, or dig deeper into current issues and events, when we can ‘keep up’ with everything and everyone through the perfunctory reports that enter our social media feeds. Even the well-intentioned content that attempts to break free from these shackles, such as #nomakeup and #realbeauty posts, or mental health awareness posts, sadly end up falling short, feeling disingenuous. Precisely because they are acts performed within the same arena that glorifies one thing above all else - attention.
Considering these things brings up a very good question: how does one respond to this attention economy? And.. perhaps to go even further: how can one break free from the subliminal shackles that commodified social media have placed on what we create and share with each other? Well, beyond a dogmatic decision to remove oneself from all forms of social media, it is hard to find a definitive answer to these questions. However, with regard to these I am again reminded of another quote. This one, however, from a conversation I had with a friend. When I asked him, as a photographer, his inspiration behind a secondary Instagram account that he shares stills to, he said to me “Those are for me. They’re just a moment I found pretty, and I wanted to capture it.”
So in the purview of that subtle wisdom, and with an awareness of the subliminal and overt influences of social media, I’m creating this space to be my own. To share voices - both my own and others - and share some of my words. To explore and reflect and process thoughts and ideas and perspectives. To say what I mean to say in a way I would like to say it. All outside of the spheres of influences and incentives built into commodified social media. Communication is the sole form of expression in which we hope others understand us, and not the other way around. And writing for me is the means of expression I’m far most comfortable with.
As for photographs however, I’m not sure I will ever feel entirely comfortable taking them, or particularly enjoy being in front of a camera. But that is also fine with me. Because by the act alone of conceding the influences and incentives within social media, and avoiding situations where photos are used or taken for those ulterior motives, the only photos I am left with are the ones that will mean something to me. That despite my discomfort, the photos I do take will be snapshots of the memories and feelings I want to be able to always go back to. They will be captures of the people and places and experiences that I want to remember and cherish for the rest of my life. And in this way their meaning may be, at least somewhat, hopefully, restored.
