Do your photos get noticed? Do you have a sizeable Instagram following? If you answered yes to those, you’re probably in for a shock.

The Evolving Art of Photography

Once was a time when photography was limited to a select few. Although there were exceptions, these tended to be rich men who dabbled in what would now be considered junior school science. Their work was studied and celebrated by their peers.

Contrary to the artists’ fears, photography didn’t replace other arts. Nevertheless, new digital technologies do replace analog methods. For example, CGI in the film industry replaced traditional skills. Consequently, most animatronic model makers, matte painters, and stop-motion animators became redundant and were replaced by people with computers.

Sometimes, the work of the photographic pioneers was denounced by other artists: it’s not real art. That negative opinion of photography has long since melted away and, with hindsight, can be seen as other artists fearing change and attempts at gatekeeping by those with skills in pencil, brush, and chisel.

Much the same arguments used against photography being art we hear today about AIAI offers a gateway to creativity that is accessible to the masses. Of course, people fear it because it’s new and its place in our future is unknown. It’s clear to see that, similar to the way that CGI displaced some other arts, AI will inevitably be used instead of some commercial photography. Product photographers, for example, would do well to start retraining to use AI now before their work is superseded.

Nevertheless, for most of us, the joy of using a camera, and the appreciation of photographic art produced by skilled and feeling humans, won’t go away.

Photography will continue to evolve despite AI. It may bring another quantum leap in that evolution. Previous leaps included when photography became democratized during the First World War. Kodak Vest Pocket Cameras were mass-produced and used by soldiers, despite it being illegal to use them. By the armistice in 1918, almost two million cameras had been sold. Then, with digitalization, the diversity of photographs and photographers has grown along with the population of those who wield a camera.

Since then, things have changed in a way that would be inconceivable to those early pioneers.

An estimated 1.72 trillion photos were taken during the last year, and that’s growing. That’s an unimaginable number, about seventeen times as many photos as there are stars in the Milky Way galaxy or eleven times more photographs than insects. It’s the equivalent of 305 photographs for every camera-owning person on the planet; bear in mind that only about 42% of people own a camera of any form, includingphones, which accounts for nearly 90% of cameras.

These are incomprehensibly high numbers, so why would our photos, insignificant drops in the flood, have ever been noticed? If you think yours are being noticed, think again. About ten billion photos get uploaded to the Internet every day.

Forget the Photographic Numbers Game

Not only are our photos lost in that flood, but most of those who see them are not moved by the work.

If I post the photo online, most viewers will look at the picture and, at best, think, “that’s pretty,” give it a little red heart, before swiping it away and moving on to someone else’s pretty picture that will be similarly dismissed .

Consequently, when thinking about what is happening with photos we post to Instagram and Facebook, or even 500px or Flickr, we are in for a shock. Unless you are a rockstar of a photographer with a name that’s known around the world for your sublime work, hardly anybody is taking any real notice of your pictures, no matter how many followers you have or like your photos get.

Think back to the last time you went on social media and liked some photos there. Can you remember what they were? Can you even remember who took them? There’s a good chance you don’t. Everyone else does the same to your photos too.

But all your followers, their little red hearts, and blue thumbs mean nothing. Most comments are throwaway too. All they mean is that your photograph was noticed for a few seconds because it was cropped up in someone’s timeline. Those photos are just as quickly forgotten.

The Spotlight Effect and Photography

Everyone is convinced that they are being noticed more than they are. This is part of what is known by psychologists as the Spotlight Effect. As we are in the center of our own little sphere of awareness, we have a limited view of the world and believe everything revolves around us. Consequently, our evaluation of how the rest of the world sees us is exaggerated. It is why we crave those little red hearts on Instagram, it means we have been noticing and reinforcing our false beliefs in our importance.

For most of us, the idea that our photos have any impact on anyone else is a deluded one. On social media, our photos are lost under a pile of other meaningless information. Instagram could be renamed Instaforgotten.

Great photographers may get a large following, but a large following does not mean you are a great photographer. Assuming you aren’t already up there with the likes of Arnold, Adams, and Arbus, social media leads us to suffer from delusions of mediocrity.

There’s a darker side to social media too. For those with social anxiety, the Spotlight Effect can be much exaggerated. Sufferers believe that everyone is looking at and judging them negatively. Therefore, those little red hearts reinforce the belief that they are being noticed when they are not.

Even If They Notice Them, Most People Are Not Affected by Your Photos

When I look at photographs, I want to be wowed. There is little better for me than seeing someone else’s fabulous print and recognizing the thought and skill that has gone into every step of creating it. That isn’t just the photographer’s technical ability, nor is it their perfect composition, important though both of those often are, it’s the stories they tell and the emotions that their photos evoke.

Not only do I derive enjoyment from seeing superb images, but I learn from them too, especially so if they elicit an emotional response.

But that is something so hard to achieve. Consequently, I rarely see a photo that makes a lasting impression.

Equally, I love shooting seascape photography, yet I am under no illusion that my images will affect anyone else in the same way they do me. For me, my photos are part of the experience I had when I knelt on an icy cold, a windswept beach capturing a sunrise. I’m often overawed by that moment and the photo helps me to evoke that. But that feeling is mine and not yours. So, how could I expect you to feel anything like that when you look at any of my photos? I cannot.

For example, I met a client on the beach at 4:20 am last week. I instructed for an hour until the sun burst through between the horizon and a bank of clouds, flooding the scene with golden light. We were both in awe of the spectacle. Would the photo shot mean as much to you as they do to me? Probably not. For me to expect that would be an unrealistic expectation.

The same applies to your photos. Nobody will have the same emotional connection to your images that you do. Trying to portray that same feeling to a third person with a photo is impossible.

There’s Good News About Realizing You Are Not Being Noticed

You might be depressed by what I have written. However, it is good news.

Once you are unshackled from the burden of chasing those disinterested followers and meaningless likes, you are free to photograph what you want, how you want it. You are being true to yourself and will get much more satisfaction from that. It will allow you to experiment with your images and grow as a photographer, instead of producing Like Bait images that look the same as the last one you shot.

Does that mean that your photos will be noticed more? Definitely not. In fact, you might alienate some of your viewers. But, as I’ve shown, a phone-scrolling, like-button clicker means nothing. Their ignoring your work doesn’t mean anything, either.

Most sports people do sports for the joy of taking part. They are without any expectation of being world-class or having dedicated supporters. The majority of actors don’t expect to win an award. Musicians play their instruments without any expectation of becoming the next Mozart. The same is true of any other creative process, including painting, pottery and process.

Yet, Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok have cloned a generation of photographers and videographers who are striving for recognition. Consequently, they produce vast qualities of disposable art. Instead of making throwaway work, they would find greater rewards from improving their work.

It’s the creativity, the process of taking the photo, that is important. Learning new proficiencies, honing them with practice, and then moving into new uncharted territories are all rewards in themselves.

Whatever you do, you are unlikely to achieve fame and fortune, or become the next Anna Atkins or Elliott Erwitt, so you might as well learn from shooting what you want in the way you enjoy it.

Does this mean I am suggesting you stop posting images online? No, not at all. As someone who earns my living from photography, sharing my work online is an effective marketing strategy. It is essential, or my customers would not know I exist. Moreover, it is a good thing to share your art. Otherwise, is there any point in creating it? It’s a great thing to allow others to see the world through your eyes, and doing that online is easy. But we must accept that using that easy route will result in most people just giving your work a brief, casual glance.

Possibly, as a result of developing your own way of working, someone may connect with it and send you a message saying how much they liked it. Maybe it will inspire them to shoot similar photos. Alternatively, it might challenge their tastes and they will abuse you for it. Either way, it is a success.

I Am, Of Course, Writing This Article as an Instruction to Myself

Just like photography, writing is an art form. So, I follow my advice and write articles for myself and not for others. If someone reads it and gets something from it, even if they don’t enjoy it, that is a bonus for me. It’s the same with photography. As long as I enjoy shooting, then that’s all that matters.

Since adopting that attitude, I have been much more comfortable with what I do. It’s a healthy approach.

Do you chase followers and try to work the social media algorithms? Or are you disillusioned with likes and followers? Do you disagree with me and think that you have made it when your photos get hundreds or thousands of likes? It would be great to hear your opinions in the comments.