Ode to Instagram: The Disease of Self(ie)
When you walk the galleries of Europe, the dated audio guides paint a picture of significance. Portraiture was an art — a painting was a unique, often once-in-a-lifetime chance to capture one’s image. Even well into the 1990s, having a photograph of yourself was special.
Today, 10 selfies are posted on Instagram every 10 seconds. Let that sink in. In the time it takes you to take a swig of your grande double shot oat milk latte, 10 humans decide to share their self-portraits with billions of strangers. Every day. Constantly. A sea of bedroom eyes, duck lips, and weirdly misshapen necks to showcase clavicles and weight loss.
As an American expat currently living in the United Kingdom, I’ve made it my mission to explore as much of the U.K. and “the continent,” as it’s called, as possible. I indulge in all the things — the museum things, the food things, the moderately entertaining walking tour things, and so on. On a recent holiday (during which I was stung by a bee and screamed in front of the Louvre), my husband and I noticed an unfortunate pattern among tourists: holidays have turned into photo ops. Da Vinci’s The Last Supper in Milan and the Mona Lisa in Paris. The Grand-Place de Bruxelles. Lake Como. All fascinating and beautiful in their own rights — all overtaken by self-obsessed #wanderlust travelers who stop not to admire what is in front of them but to capitalize on the moment by snapping a photo for social media gloating.
I mean, really, the Mona Lisa was ridiculous. It took nearly two hours of being shuffled up escalators and along narrow corridors to get to what is arguably the most famous painting on earth. And when you get there? Don’t expect introspective solitude, a quiet moment of reflection at Da Vinci’s masterpiece. Instead, prepare to fight a valiant battle against 500 people who are pushing each other through the labyrinth of ropes, frantically trying to snap a selfie with the Mona Lisa in the background, photographers’ smug faces smiling as if to say, “yeah, that’s right. I made it to the Mona-effing-Lisa.”
I last visited the painting in 2014 before herds of ̶c̶a̶t̶t̶l̶e̶ people had completely ruined the experience. I don’t think I’ll ever go back.
And listen, I get it: taking a selfie has positive implications, too. When you feel good about the skin you’re in, it feels empowering to celebrate you. In a society where there’s massive pressure to be just so, there is a refreshing release in being able to share your picture with the world as if to say I’m good enough.
The problem is we’ve lost that vision.
We slice our bodies to shrink our waists, squint our eyes to show we’re sexy, master our angles, purse our lips, and post selfie after selfie until our faces are frozen in that awkward neck twist to avoid a double chin. Social media is addicting because it’s rewarding. Getting likes, comments, and views is akin to gaming. We’re all playing Super Mario Bros., collecting our coins while we try to level up.
So, what’s the big deal?
Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ve heard by now that Instagram has been rolling out global tests hiding “likes” on posts. The social media platform says it’s testing the move in a bid to combat issues surrounding people’s “well-being and health.” Some argue the real reason is far more sinister, but I’ll save those theories for another day.
In any event, the move has been controversial, particularly among home-grown creators. Many influencers argue removing “likes” will negatively impact their sponsorship deals, because “likes” are closely associated with measures of engagement. How will influencers evidence their popularity to followers? How will brands measure return on investment? How will we ensure we are all keeping up with the Kardashians?
Marketing analysts have hit back at the complaints, saying the move will ultimately help promote the creation of higher quality content. Additionally, as Instagram pointed out, “likes” will still be viewable to the creator so influencers and brands will still be able to measure their effectiveness — they’re simply removing the “likes” from public view in a bid to combat bullying and reduce competitiveness. Whether this roll out sparks a paradigm shift remains to be seen. I have hope humanity will be able to endure. After all, we (mostly) survived Facebook’s Great Timeline Migration of 2012.
So, what might a post-apocalyptic “like”-free Instagram look like?
My Utopian answer would be that I want Instagram and the collection of social media platforms we’ve come to rely on for communication to be true agents of storytelling. I want to see report cards and job raises, art, romance, adventure, and even cheeky mistakes. I want a million pictures of the Eiffel Tower, because the scent of cappuccinos and croissants wafting through the air has inspired you. I want ten thousand pictures of your gardens, and hundreds of snippets of your hipster knitting in progress. I want your double chin while you play with your preschooler and your crumpled blouse following a long day at the office. If I’m honest, sometimes I want nothing at all, because you are so busy living that you forgot to take a picture.
I don’t expect #selfie to die out anytime soon — and it doesn’t need to. I have more than a few Instagram posts where I was absolutely feelin’ myself. I hope, instead, that reducing the public role of “likes” will inspire people to focus on being their authentic selves rather than the carefully crafted fantasies we’ve grown accustomed to.
