This sums it up so perfectly. It precisely explains what I've always failed to when people ask, "why didn't you take pictures of that? or share them on Facebook?" I was just overseas for several weeks and I was able to fully absorb the entire experience because I wasn't worried about what anyone else in the world thought of what I was experiencing at the moment.
I do think there can be a middle-ground with social media if it's designed thoughtfully, with this perspective in mind. I wrote a little about it recently [0], specifically on how Mastodon shouldn't have ported over the favorite/like functionality from Twitter, because functions like that do hijack our brains to use these tools for the subconscious reward, rather than to truly improve our lives in some way.
With prevalent awareness of the issue, thoughtful design, and a change in financial incentives for platform makers I think we can come away from this crazy time of intrusive, subconscious-altering social media with just the good parts.
I think I personally like the like notifications on Twitter though to gauge what resonated with people. Though I do keep the push notifications off so it's more of just I review the notifications timeline every day or two.
First, people shouldn't love you for who you are. That assumption is in popular culture but it's really pernicious if you examine it. I don't love my mother because she's my mother. I love my mother because she's nice to me, she cares about me, she sacrificed for me, she wants me to do well, etc. If my mother acted like a robot, or worse, was abusive or exploitative, I wouldn't love her. That's true for everyone I do love, and I think it should be true of all love (possible exception for one's own children). If you expect people to love you regardless of what you do or how you act, that's demanding a lot from people for no reason.
Second, consider the group of people at the concert. Going to a concert is fun, even if you're just kind of standing around watching. The problem is, when taking a photo, you can't convey visually the fun of being there - so you exaggerate the visual aspect, you look happy, so you can take a picture that represents what you're actually experiencing. I grant that it could be the case that people are cynically trying to create a fantasy life for Snapchat to seem popular or whatever, but my experience with such things is just that you're trying to convey your experience with images. Going to this concert is fun, so look fun so we can snap shot it!
Over Thanksgiving I took pictures of my mother, my sister, and my sister's daughter doing the same thing. On the one hand, two of the pictures were staged (I asked two of them to come here and do this so I could take their picture). On the other hand, it captured the similarity that I could see between the three of them. The picture is authentic in the same way that the Snapchat picture is - it had to be created artificially to capture something authentic.
You're making a mostly semantical argument. When you say that "you don't love your mother because she's your mother", you're saying that you don't love your mother strictly based on the fact that she was the woman who bore you (`with respect to her identity`). You then say that you love your mother because she acts `how she acts`.
In my experience, when people say they want to be loved for who they are, they mean that they don't want to have to act differently than how they would naturally act in order to be liked or popular. In essence, `who someone is` is commonly interpreted to be a superset of `how someone acts` in union with other sets (like `who someone is with respect to their identity`). Thus most people would understand "be who you are" not only to mean "be who you are strictly `with respect to your identity`" but also "be who you are with respect to `how you act`". You're missing the latter in the definition in of who your mother is.
Your second point is valid. In my experience it is difficult to maintain physically a peak level of excitement for a whole event.
Regarding your second point, there is a spectrum here between "recreating authentic experience" and closer to "making something that isn't real" for likes. An extreme example is that I live in a hipster neighborhood with a bunch of European inspired architecture (in the midwestern USA). I once saw two people hold up their small puppy they had on a leash up to autumn leaves in a plant in order to take a picture, around shoulder level with outstretched arms. The dog was clearly in distress, but they continued for one or two times while the dog was whimpering and trying to get down.
The dog was not "experiencing the autumn leaves." Instead, I'm guessing this was closer to "I've seen these sorts of posts in ig, and it's popular, so I'm going to try to recreate it for likes." Why else would someone do that?
So that's an extreme towards GP's point while you seem to be on a spectrum towards another area where it's more like amplification over manufacture.
And if we step back from social media, what about regular pictures? They’re supposed to take candid moments of the real world, but even if we’re having a bad day, we smile and act happy for pictures.
I agree that a divide between reality and ideal is happening here, just that it isn’t really new.
I'm not sure that is an accurate representation of photography as a medium, nor has it ever been.
By that metric traditional newspapers are much worse - the ratio of stories on golf versus on dishwashing is much greater than 5x.
What social media do people think is more candid?
That would be by Seth Stephens-Davidowitz in this NYT article.
[0] https://www.nytimes.com/2017/05/06/opinion/sunday/dont-let-f...
They are quietly subverting their self while sublimating the value of the crowd. How do I have an identity when I consistently invite other people - often strangers - to affirm my experiences?
This realization led me to delete most of my social media accounts. Rejecting constant validation and ever-present social commentary opened my life to the quiet details. It led to a mental growth spurt which elevated my career and relationship with family and friends.>Since Sputnik and the satellites, the planet is enclosed in a manmade environment that ends "Nature" and turns the globe into a repertory theater to be programmed. Shakespeare at the Globe mentioning "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players" (As You Like It, Act II, Scene 7) has been justified by recent events in ways that would have struck him as entirely paradoxical. The results of living inside a proscenium arch of satellites is that the young now accept the public spaces of the earth as role-playing areas. Sensing this, they adopt costumes and roles and are ready to "do their thing" everywhere.
-Marshall McLuhan, From Cliché to Archetype, 1970
It's just "the medium is the message" applied to Snapchat.
I felt the same sense of misrepresentation browsing Instagram recently, where the photo no longer represents the experience, but rather it is the experience (if one can call a posed and doctored product an experience).
One problem with this is the behavioral reinforcement it creates. If dopamine is released enough times when a certain action is performed, it would seem there's a point where your brain is essentially making you continue to reproduce that action. And these services aren't primarily targeting adults, which is concerning as well.
Maybe the Instagram experience is how people actually want to behave? And it gives them a chance to express that ideal self. In other words, it's like the phone is a magic wand, and when it's pointed at them, it's suddenly socially-acceptable to break out of their shell and act silly.
Obviously it's weird that it only happens when the phone is pointed at them. But maybe, over time, this "behavioral reinforcement" will give them the courage to act like that all of the time (if that's how they want to be), rather than only when the phone is out.
In other words, the key notion that I challenge is this claim that HN is fit to judge Instagram as a misrepresentation of reality. How can we claim that the moments when the phone is away is more real than the moments when they are out? They both happened, therefore they're both real. And there's this unquestioned assumption that just because people behave a certain way when the phone is away, that's how they truly want to behave, when it may as well be just the opposite.
But since they likely spend more time as one version of themselves - when no camera is pointed at them - and less time as the on-camera version, I'd argue that the latter is less authentic.
It's a bit like using alcohol (ie, the camera) as a crutch to give yourself permission to loosen up in social situations. It gets the job done but I'd argue it's not authentic.
Also, in the beginning it was not unusual that the only portrait of a person was post-mortem - to preserve the memory (as in 100 years of solitude). Difficult to smile in that case.
However, photographs were serious business for quite a while. You don't see people smiling on official portraits for the same reason. Imagine that portrait of Napoleon on a horse, but with a smile - doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?
Same for early photographs; they were expected to be solemn.
Out of curiosity are you and your friends younger than 25? I don't know of anybody in my age demographic that would behave like that.
I've seen a couple of bars where they ban it, but not in nightclubs, especially high end ones. It's too hectic to "ban" something there, and the more exclusive the place is, the more likely the visitors want to instagram their visits, the better marketing it is for the club, therefore they allow it.
People go to night club to party. And most people take photos when they're partying. I don't see anything wrong with that.
Sure it's annoying (I know it's annoying because I actually experience it first hand) but saying that should be banned just means you're out of touch. Even some of the most hipster nightclubs in Williamsburg would never throw you out just because you took a photo.
People will hate you if you take a selfie in the middle of a dancefloor, and some may even complain about it to the bouncers (most don't), and the bouncer may ask you not to do so, but NOBODY throws you out because you took a photo. In the nightclub nobody cares that you're taking a photo in the corner.
Lastly, it's kind of ridiculous how this thread turned out. This was not at all the point of my comment.
I think the real question is, who are you without this medium? Are you still the same person? The artist who was encouraged by the responses of strangers can continue to do his or her work without the medium. The affirmation has helped them but it's not something they rely on.
In contrast if you find yourself craving it so much that without it you are anxious and suffering, then you have a problem. If the concert kids you mentioned were enjoying the concerts anyways, dancing and cheering all the way through on snapchat or not, then it wouldn't be worrying at all.
This is really the same for anything that's potentially addictive. Can you live without it? Do you goto lengths that are otherwise uncomfortable to you to acquire it?
Yes, snapchat has made it easier for us to fake ourselves, but only in the same way the internet has made it easier for us to look at pornography, and the industrial revolution has made it easier for us to have access to alcohol and cigarettes. I think in time this will pass too, just like all the other harmful things we could indulge in, as people have self-control and are smart enough to eventually realize that being our authentic selves bring about the most happiness.
It's most obvious when you listen to someone phone home, where people from home have a different accent from where they live. Their accent will start switching back. They'll start reacting to social and conversational cues in remembered ways, rather than current ways. A facet of identity is keyed to its culture. (I think this is why FB is so disturbing; I stopped using it in 2010 or so. It just creates context cross-talk.)
I agree with you on the distorting effects of the camera, causing people to exaggerate to communicate a specific story. I don't see it so much as misrepresentation, though. People have sent misleading postcards of holidays to friends and relatives for decades, before photographing everything was feasible, never mind video snippets. It's more about constructing a social object that acts as a kind of structural element for a narrative one wants to write in the shared cultural space of the viewers. And Snap certainly encourages it, probably to excess.
On my first significant holiday abroad, I didn't take any photos, because I wanted to stay in the moment, and not be concerned about creating narratives. The experience stays within me as a series of scenes without order, almost like a remembered dream. I could say that it's part of me, my identity. But since I can't share it with anyone, it's impoverished. Shared experiences are bonding in a way that unshared experiences aren't. The shared narrative creates a shared mini-culture, where members belong. Being through a tough spot with someone can be the seed of a deep friendship, and the shared narrative is a big part of why. Whether the narrative is authentic or not isn't actually the point.
IMHO I think they tried to make people share spontaneously instead of a curated feed. Instagram and FB forced a change.
or in another way, photography exposes the difficulty of translating your recollection to a third party. when I show you a grainy photo of some bright lights and blurred, sweaty people, I remember a great concert with friends.. but you just see the grainy photo.
though I agree with what you are saying, I think this is just the mass adoption of the imagification (both actual and meta) of life that began with portraiture back in the middle ages. why rail against snapchat when we already live in a world of fake family portraits?
The interesting part is what happens once enough people become aware of it. A total glamour killer. Every day there seems to be so much talk about dangers of social. Would be an interesting strategy for Snapchat to amplify this conversation and position itself as an alternative.
Do you think this is something Snapchat should even care about? How is Snapchat nudging you? Is it more insidious than somebody saying "say cheese!" before snapping a photo?
Preserving a memory there in a few sentences or a quick photo that I just save for myself fulfills the desire for me.
I think this is a problem.
I went to a concert a few weeks ago. The people beside me would stand still for 10 minutes and then someone would pull out Snapchat. The whole group would turn around, flash a smile and start dancing for the camera. 9 seconds later, they were back to watching the concert.
Performance is a cultural virus that affects our happiness and creates a kind of perfect self-consciousness. It’s “instant replay” for all of life. And just like in American Football, when instant replay arrives, we start to (1) glorify the spectacular, (2) hyper-analyze every angle and (3) expect more moments worthy of instant replay.
Snapchat pushes us to create more of those “replay worthy” moments. We narrate our lives according to the expectations of our “fans.” I hear 8-year-old kids yell “do it for the likes.” They are quietly subverting their self while sublimating the value of the crowd. How do I have an identity when I consistently invite other people - often strangers - to affirm my experiences?
Those concert-goers felt the need to misrepresent their experience of the concert. The 8-year-olds adjusted their behavior to optimize for likes. When I was on Snapchat, I loved seeing myself in other people’s stories. It made me feel popular. I, too, adjusted my behavior to appear more likeable on camera.
Adjusting Snapchat’s interface will do nothing to address the intrinsic ways that Snapchat reorients our relationships around performance.
Perhaps this is obvious, but family and friends should love me the way I am. Not some imaginary version of me. And Snapchat nudges me to fake it.