Examining how I've used Instagram in the past and my newfound desire to start sharing my photography on my website.
For as long as I can remember, my relationship with Instagram has always obeyed a boom and bust cycle. There are days when I happily use the app.
On such occasions, I enjoy scrolling through a bottomless feed of pictures posted by my friends and my favorite photographers, and sharing my photos. These moments become eclipsed by periods where I’d rather have nothing to do with Instagram.
I’ve struggled with the fact that sites like Instagram are addicting, by design. Social media platforms function as Skinner boxes, doling out virtual rewards to users at irregular intervals to keep them hooked on these services.
Likes represent the most prominent of these rewards. Indeed, it’s incredible that something as simple as the like button aids in retaining users. It’s also peculiar that we have allowed the like button to play a significant role in our online social interactions.
When I first started sharing my photography on Instagram, I paid close attention to the number of likes others gave me. Because my posts didn’t receive comments, I naively regarded likes as a substitute for constructive feedback. My photos with more likes were superior to those with fewer, I thought.
I also felt elated whenever I surpassed my high score, the maximum number of likes I ever received on a single post. But I eventually learned better.
Does anyone keep track of similar social metrics in their day to day lives? For instance, would you track the number of people who congratulated you for getting promoted at work? Would you bother to count the amount of people who wished you a happy birthday?
Most people probably wouldn’t measure these figures on their own. But Instagram and other social media platforms certainly would, if you allowed them.
I’ve realized that focusing on social approval metrics places too much emphasis on the quantity of our social interactions. It also obscures the depth and quality of how we connect with each other. Nowadays, I try not to pay attention to likes.
For many months, I’ve aimed to avoid seeing the number of likes on my posts. After opening the app, I quickly clear the bright red notification that shows me the number of likes and new followers I’ve obtained.
I’ve felt awkward about adopting this strange ritual to prevent myself from getting caught in Instagram’s Skinner box. It’s quite a chore.
Upon failing to maintain this practice, I find myself on a slippery slope. I begin to care more about the number of likes I’m receiving than I should. This happens when I start visiting Instagram out of boredom, instead of using the app sparingly.
I ultimately take a break from Instagram as I contend with these conflicting thoughts regarding likes. Once this cognitive dissonance fades, I resume using Instagram once more.
The boom and bust cycle partly persists because I enjoy posting new photos. My page on Instagram functions as a public diary of my photography journey. Creating a new post is akin to adding a new entry.
As I continue to improve in my photography, I enjoy being able to review my journey. Admittedly, some part of me still enjoys getting likes on new posts even though I don’t always see them. Nonetheless, the seemingly eternal struggle to maintain my sanity on the platform has urged me to pursue a healthier alternative.
I recently decided to start sharing my photography on my website. Here, I don’t have to worry about navigating through predatory cues designed to get me hooked on performing certain behaviors. But I don’t plan to get rid of my Instagram page yet as it still possesses sentimental value. It’s more likely in the future that I will be using Instagram less frequently.
Surprisingly, I’ve found it refreshing to post photos on my website. The experience of sharing my images without expecting to receive likes feels more organic. It’s almost as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
I expect that the photo gallery on my website will eventually overshadow my Instagram page. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly why, but I strongly feel that the gallery on my website will also be more authentic.