Social media is not the problem, but your relationship with it is

The thing I keep coming back to is that social media is not inherently bad. Mobile phones are not bad. These are just tools, and nothing more. A few people have recently reached out to ask me about quitting social media or breaking away from it. And I think they’re asking themselves the wrong question to start with. Instead of asking, “Should I quit social media?” the question I’d rather sit with is: “How can I change my relationship to social media?” And there are two parts to that for me: the technology and how it’s designed, and then the messaging we receive from it. But to even get near examining our relationship with social media, I think we first have to examine our relationship with ourselves. Who would I be if social media didn’t exist? What would my life look like? How would I move in the world, where would I travel, what would I buy? How would I actually live if I weren’t so overly connected?

This age we’re living in- the society of the endless image, or the SOTEI, as I’ve been calling it- is one where there are images, moving and still, everywhere we look in the world, and it’s inescapable. And the society we live in is what drives mass drift, which is exactly why social media is genuinely detrimental to us. We watch everyone else’s lives online, hundreds, if not thousands, of stories a day, and we get the notion that we should be living a different life elsewhere. We become paralysed by the choice, so we either do nothing and consume endlessly, or we start changing our lives based on what we see others doing online. Essentially, we become so influenced, and we start living a life that might not be authentic to us. The mass drift is what happens when our entire lives are changed and set on a trajectory that was never really ours to begin with, and one day we wake up disillusioned and unhappy in a life that doesn’t suit us. And for some people, it might be too late to change things by the time they notice. None of this is new, but if I’m honest, I think the constant consumption and endless messaging we experience from the SOTEI makes the mass drift ten times worse. Which is why we have to be proactive about social media, curate, create and consume mindfully, rather than letting it happen to us. Because if we’re determined enough, social media can inspire us, or move us to create art, and help us build a life we’ve always wanted.

So how do we not get pulled into the current of the mass drift? There is, of course, an answer, but I’m not sure it’s an easy one to live out. Know thyself. It was inscribed on the Temple of Apollo at Delphi, and later popularised by Socrates, and I keep returning to it because I think it might be one of the only ways to escape the mass drift and live outside of the society of the endless image. You might look in the mirror and see yourself; that is the real you according to your perception. You might look at your Instagram or TikTok profile and feel like you know yourself, but is it the real you? Your identity online is really the projection you want the world to see - the third hologram. So to escape the mass drift, you may need to know thyself -offline.

I’ve been sitting with a few questions myself on how I can be authentically me, online and offline. Some of these might resonate with you. What do I value? For me, it’s authenticity, creativity, communication, the outdoors, the beach, animals. Independence, and my ability to express myself creatively. What personality traits are actually true to me? I know I have a tendency to be slightly anxious, maybe some addictive qualities, sometimes a black-and-white way of thinking without giving myself much compassion or grace. If social media weren’t around, what would I do with my spare time? That one’s harder for me to answer honestly, so I find myself going back to who I was as a kid, a teenager. What made me happy then? What hobbies did I have, and what was it about them that I loved? Could I go back to something like that now?

This kind of work takes time, especially if you’ve never sat with it before. But I think once you have some sense of who you are offline, it becomes a little easier to notice where your online world doesn’t match that. What you’re drawn to interact with, create, curate and consume. I think this is what keeps the boundary between the online and offline self from blurring so completely. Consuming what’s actually relevant to you, rather than whatever the endless scroll of the algorithm hands you.

But don’t get me wrong, I don’t think this is only about willpower, because the black mirror itself is working against us. Scrolling has become the automatic gesture, the adult pacifier, in the society of the endless image. A 2026 scoping review found that doomscrolling is driven by design features like the infinite scroll, autoplay, and algorithmic delivery, that remove the natural stopping points we’d otherwise have, and it’s consistently linked to anxiety, emotional exhaustion, and diminished attention (Sharpe et al., 2026). So the technology is, in some sense, built against us, and mass drift can creep in easily because of it. Kartol et al. (2023) found that future anxiety mediates the link between psychological distress and doomscrolling, trapping people in a reinforcing worry cycle. Shabahang et al. (2024) also linked doomscrolling to increased existential anxiety. Your values and your desire for your life need to be stronger than the pull of the technology and its messaging. What has really worked for me here is meditation. Being able to notice my thoughts and impulses before I act on them. It’s difficult, I won’t pretend otherwise, but it’s absolutely gotten easier with practice. It helps me catch myself before I fall into the scroll, and it helps me remember that what I’m witnessing are other people’s stories, not necessarily anything to do with my own.

Living from your values and the authentic self

So how should we actually use social media? Well, I think of it as a diary entry. A culmination of who I am, what I want to put out into the world, rather than what I think other people want to see. But it’s genuinely hard to present the full authentic self online, because it cannot be possible to replicate the essence of a person. And there will most of the time be a desire to put your best foot forward, to present your ideal self. And social media can actually be a projection of what you want your reality to be, an aspirational version of yourself, as long as it’s still tethered to your values somewhere. But this raises another question I don’t think I can fully answer: do we even know who our authentic self is? Because maybe it doesn’t exist at all. The self as we know it is constantly shifting as we live and experience new things. Does the authentic self even exist, or is it just whichever version of us is looking back at a given moment?

This is where social media, I think, can actually be useful, in terms of how flexible our identity and self-expression is allowed to be. We get to see things that feel idealistic to us, or maybe things that are slightly out of reach. Things that we desire, and we can follow that thread. For example, I love Suzuki Jimnys. I’ve wanted one since I was a kid; it’s a dream car of mine. Because it’s tied to something real in me, I let myself watch content about it. I’m allowing social media to be an extension of the hologram, an extension of myself. Let’s take that Jimny example. I see a lot of people who want to buy one; they’ve become somewhat trendy. Do these people actually want one because it aligns with their values and who they are? Or are they following social media trends? I think I’ve realised in order to differentiate between what I want vs what others want offline, I need to spend time with my own mind, in my own environment, without the noise of everyone else’s lives pulling at me. I’ve had to ask myself, do my values match my actions? And only once that’s somewhat true, it feels right to bring it back online. To create, curate, and consume from my values and my identity.

A 2024 study found that feeling authentic online, rather than idealised, predicted fewer mental health symptoms over time. This was not just a correlation but something that held up over time. And curating an identity closer to your true self, rather than an idealised persona, was linked to higher self-esteem and life satisfaction, and the gap between your real self and your posted self seemed to be where the harm crept in (Bunker et al., 2024). This is what makes me think that the people in that study were probably living closer to their own values, rather than performing what they thought was expected of them. So being your full, true self online, whatever that means for you in the moment, might actually make you happier than the alternative.

Social media and the bright side

Social media exposes us to things we might not have seen before, and this is a massive benefit to the tool. I discovered a recipe online I’d never have come across otherwise, and it’s become one of my regular meal preps, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It expanded something in my life. This is where I think social media is actually good, if we let it be. Which is why mindful consumption matters so much in this conversation. Consuming something interesting or value-based, rather than mindlessly scrolling, will always have a positive outcome. If I come across something online, or offline, that genuinely interests me, I try to journal about it, or go take a deeper dive into it, rather than letting it dissolve into the scroll. Just consuming what I actually like, rather than getting swept into the doom-scrolling of it all. The type of content plays a large role in this, and that’s why longer-form content is favoured by some. Because of the ability to sit and think about a topic, rather than getting a hot take within a 60-second reel or TikTok.

Social media is also genuinely good for community, and there’s a real sense of belonging that most people report feeling, according to the research. Which tells me it’s less about the medium itself, and more about how we use it, which platforms we’re on, and who we’re actually engaging with there. There’s a well-established distinction in the research between active and passive use: passive consumption, scrolling, browsing without engaging, is far more consistently linked to poorer wellbeing than active use, like creating, messaging, or commenting (Valkenburg et al., 2022). So this is where we see a lot of creators discuss that you create more than you consume. It’s cheesy, but it’s true, and it works. And more recent work has found that passive use specifically predicts stronger social comparison, while active, expressive use tends to shift our attention away from evaluating ourselves against others and back toward genuine connection (Ang, 2026). This research confirms that social media is not inherently bad, but is a tool.

Virality, validation, and staying true to you

It’s difficult to write about this, because I’ve lived it recently. When you go viral, it changes your relationship to social media and how you interact. I created a few reels recently that went completely viral, and when something you make suddenly reaches far more people than you expected, there’s a pull to chase that feeling again - toward external validation. It’s actually a very subtle feeling, and I’ve seen it happen to others. Over time you start posting for others instead of for yourself. And I’ve had to learn to make sure I continue to post for myself, and not to chase that social media validation high. And the thing is, you have to keep posting the version of yourself you actually want to become in the world, not the version that performed best last time. But you can only do that if you know who you are first, which brings me back to where this essay started.

The research backs up why this pull is so strong. Social approval online isn’t a trivial signal to our brains; it’s processed as a genuine reward (Dores et al., 2025). To be honest, I think that’s the trap. It works, well, and then we crave more. I think about my own history with this a lot. I worked as a photographer for years, and somewhere along the way, my vision and my work got completely skewed by my relationship with social media. I was taking photos for everyone but myself. That’s part of why I went and studied cyberpsychology and got my master’s in it. I wanted to actually understand how we interact with technology and the world, rather than just feel swept along by it.

So, what does it actually mean to have a healthy relationship with social media? I don’t think it means deleting it as much as others might suggest. And I don’t think it means using it and consuming endlessly. I actually think it means knowing yourself well enough, offline, that you can recognise when the platform is reflecting you back, or acting as a mirror, versus when it’s rewriting you into someone else’s story, and allowing you to succumb to the mass drift. It means creating more than you consume, and when you do consume, doing it toward something you actually care about, toward a vision bigger than you. It means noticing the pull toward validation without letting it dictate your actions. I don’t think I’ve fully solved this for myself; I’m not sure anyone has, as it’s a constant battle against the algorithm and black mirror, but I think if we can keep asking the question, it means we’re aware. And once we have that awareness, we can develop a better relationship with it.

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Get your copy of Returning To Photography Workbook - Built from 15+ years of photography, a first-class MSc in Cyberpsychology, and the experience of quitting and returning, and finding the way back to photography and to myself. Your love for photography is still there, but you can only return to it by learning about yourself first. The workbook includes 10 original frameworks, 22 exercises, 18 reflection questions, and over 100+ pages. More info on it here.

References

Ang, C.S. (2026). Passive scrolling, active comparing: how social media use behaviours shape happiness through social comparison. Behaviour & Information Technology.

Bunker, C.J., et al. (2024). Perceiving the self as authentic on social media precedes fewer mental health symptoms: A longitudinal approach. Computers in Human Behavior, 152, 108056.

Dores, A.R., Peixoto, M., Fernandes, C., Marques, A., & Barbosa, F. (2025). The effects of social feedback through the “Like” feature on brain activity: A systematic review. Healthcare, 13(1), 89. https://doi.org/10.3390/healthcare13010089

Kartol, A., Üztemur, S., & Yaşar, P. (2023). ‘I cannot see ahead’: psychological distress, doomscrolling and dark future among adult survivors following Mw 7.7 and 7.6 earthquakes in Türkiye. BMC Public Health, 23, 2513. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12889-023-17460-3

Shabahang, R., Hwang, H., Thomas, E.F., Aruguete, M.S., McCutcheon, L.E., Orosz, G., Khanzadeh, A.A., Chirani, B.M., & Zsila, Á. (2024). Doomscrolling evokes existential anxiety and fosters pessimism about human nature? Evidence from Iran and the United States. Computers in Human Behavior Reports, 15, 100438. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.chbr.2024.100438

Sharpe, A.T.R., Tyndall, I., Poulus, D.R., Obine, E.A.C., & Sharpe, B.T. (2026). The influence of doomscrolling on mental health: a scoping review. Mental Health and Digital Technologies, 3(3), 290–342.

Valkenburg, P.M., van Driel, I.I., & Beyens, I. (2022). The associations of active and passive social media use with well-being: A critical scoping review. Social Media + Society.

We need to ask ourselves, why do we scroll? Why do we want to be consumed by other people’s lives? Curiosity, boredom, nosiness? How do we consume content endlessly online? Whether that be YouTube, TikTok, Instagram, or whatever else you like to watch. Everyone has their own reasons for consuming content; it’s not our fault. The technology has been designed to be as addictive as possible and to be weaponised against us if not used correctly. What we do know is that techniques such as notifications, content recommendations, infinite scrolling and user interface elements that incorporate gaming techniques are all persuasive. People with a high external locus of control might spend more time on social media than they intended because of these design features. As a result, they may be unable to regulate their use (Cemiloglu et al. 2025).

For many people, social media consumption is like the adult pacifier for our society. It’s much easier to distract ourselves with other people’s lives and endless entertainment (the third hologram) than to deal with what’s in front of us, either from our environment (first hologram) or our mind (second hologram). It seems much easier to distract ourselves than to sit with feelings like boredom and loneliness. When I’m out and observing, I see people reach for their phones because they can’t sit with themselves for more than five minutes. But I am guilty of this too. Ultimately, I personally believe that a lot of people are addicted to their phones as a compulsive avoidance mechanism. Avoidance of facing their true self, their feelings, and their own life. Because with this pacifier, we are hooking our brains up to be drip-fed entertainment disguised as education, life advice, marketing, and more. It has been the facade or face of what life has become, overshadowing what life should have been. Our lives have become a performance and a show, and we can’t escape our reality because we have escaped into others’ third holograms and stories.

Trapped in Second-Hand Stories

We’re trapped living in second-hand stories rather than our own, with all these infinite third-person holograms competing for our attention every time we look at our phone. While social media is a great place to connect and keep up with friends and family, I think people are replacing their in-person connections with online catch-ups. This ‘catch up’ culture, or knowing what’s happening in someone’s life because it’s only witnessed on Instagram stories, but never actively staying in touch in reality. We have this illusion of being connected with others, this fantasy of connection and friendship, but in reality, it’s not us connecting by viewing other people’s lives; it’s just parasocial consumption. And perhaps equal to the consumption of watching a movie or a YouTube video. We’ve built up a parasocial relationship with everyone we meet but don’t stay in touch with. It’s the equivalent of the relationship you have with your favourite YouTuber or Instagram influencer. There’s a sense of connection, but it is false; it cannot replace reality. Madison et al. (2016) found that parasocial relationships can compensate for a lack of real-life interaction when these parasocial relationships function through rehearsal and self-understanding for the viewer, where “in our imaginations, the one-sided relationships become two-sided, and through rehearsing in our imaginative world we learn about and gain better understandings of ourselves” (p. 271). BEcase of this, it is possible that if one type of relationship is lacking (e.g., interpersonal relationships in reality) then the other type (e.g., parasocial relationships online) may provide an avenue to support those social needs. (Sherick et all, 2022). This paper investigated parasocial relationships with media influencers and celebrities, rather than with friends. So it can be beneficial to some, but as we find out more about our friends through these online updates, it fulfils the need not to see them in real life or to have those needs met. But is this the right thing to be doing for us?

Another thing about being connected, if we put our best foot forward online, or our ideal self online - even on ephemeral social media like Instagram stories- we’re not presenting the real full self. This affects the holograms that we exist in. If we see the ideal selves of people we think we know but rarely interact with in real life, we only get a glimpse of them. Their visual personal CV, perhaps. And I fear this illusion of connection has contributed to the loneliness epidemic. While social media is not directly correlated with loneliness, and in fact, there have been many studies that say that social media increases the feeling of belongingness. Some studies have shown that time spent online can be correlated with loneliness. People who reported compulsive use of digital technology, or who experienced online victimisation, were significantly lonelier. This suggests that the type of experience we have online, whether we’re consuming passively, being harmed, or genuinely connecting, matters far more than which app we’re scrolling through. (Matthews et al, 2025) So it’s not the third hologram or social media that destroys us and our connections; it’s how we interact within it. In my opinion, it makes sense that the more we consume curation and performance, the more distant we become from our connections and our reality.

But let’s say we don’t discuss friendships; we are only discussing ‘others’ or people we do not know. Influencers, or other people that we follow. Of course, the influencer presentation on social is much more performative and curated - even if there are elements of their authentic personality that they portray. The problem with the amount of consumption is that we’re absorbing thousands of people’s lives every day with ‘how to live’ blueprints that aren’t exactly real. We see videos of the ‘day in the life’ or what my life looks like in a new city, etc. The problem with this is that we are constantly refusing to accept our own reality while watching everyone else’s. We never get the full self, the full story we see on social media - it’s only ever a snippet. And when people know they are performing for the camera, when they know the camera is on - something switches, a performative side comes out. We are all living in our own Truman shows, except we know we’re the star of the show because we’re also the director. Simultaneously, we are the audience watching everyone else’s Truman Show on our phones, always wishing that we were somewhere else-because social comparison is a real thing and is massively amplified by social media.

Now, this is just my perspective, but the problem with consuming everyone else’s third hologram, this projection of themselves through the black mirror, is that our brain can’t actually distinguish between the authentic experience and the consumed performance. We can say that we consciously say ‘social media is not real life’ or that we are absolutely aware of the holograms that we exist in simultaneously. We know that influencers cannot be their full selves; it’s only a part of their lives, not the full story. So why do we continue to purchase what they sell? Why do we aspire to be like them? Why do we share or repost influencers giving birth, but we won’t share or repost someone we know in real life’s business or support them if that’s what they aspire to be?

Well, the reason is that there’s cognitive dissonance in our brains between our perception of influencers and of people we know in real life. It’s much easier for us to support someone we don’t know because we only witness their third hologram — we have no competing reality to compare it to. But with people we’ve met before who post online, we experience the gap between who they are and who they’re performing as. That dissonance is uncomfortable.

Our brains are not evolved to process the stories we constantly consume online. Dunbar’s theory states that people have the cognitive ability for 150 relationships (Dunbar, 1992). This was significant hundreds or thousands of years ago, when people lived in villages and had strong community ties. But there was no social media then. Now, we can consume thousands of stories in a day - what is that doing to us? Yes, it is different to in-person relations, but in those times, there were seanchoiches or storytellers who would be paid to show up at pubs and public places to tell stories. We would hear gossip from our neighbours. Now, we hear hundreds, if not thousands, of stories per day. This is what causes the mass drift.

Memory, the 5D self and free will

What concerns me most about social media consumption is that I really believe it might make us forget our lives. In Part 3, I mentioned some studies suggesting that delegating memory to the camera can prevent the encoding of lived experience in our brains. So what does this mean for social media documentation? When we photograph moments for Instagram, we are simultaneously disengaging from the actual memory-making process. We’re not remembering the moment we’re experiencing; we’re constantly outsourcing it to the black mirror, and then to the algorithm. The more we document every aspect of our lives, the less we actually remember them.

If we go back to the slingshot theory, that time exists all at once, and the past, present, and future have been written - and are felt through memory and intuition. My concern is that if we consume too much, our sense of memory might be dampened by other stories. And our intuition will also get dampened or tuned out because we are constantly distracted by the endless stories that we consume online. How we are supposed to live our lives gets replaced by other people’s idea of how they live theirs.

I fear that, in this time we are in, absorbed in screens, hooked up to the black mirror, we will just remember what we consumed, not what they lived. This is a hypothesis, not a fact. And I wonder if it would be possible to run studies or research on this in the future. But let’s come back to the original hologram-within-a-hologram theory. I mentioned before that potentially, and speculatively, time moves non-linearly. We experience this world in 3D, as we move through time in 4D like a stop-motion film. But then explained that maybe our intuition, god or higher self could be our 5D self - guiding us in the right direction, or changing our reality and timelines. (You can read more about the theory here) In this argument, I battled with the idea that if our 5D selves can choose our timeline, then why are their children dying in developing countries? Surely, this would not be the first choice for many people. Bringing it back to consumption, would our higher selves, or God or intuition want us sitting on our phones all day consuming other people’s narratives in this world? Surely not.

I wonder if we were to break away from the noise and allow ourselves the time and breathing room to listen to ourselves by focusing on a craft, meditation, or getting into flow. Maybe we might disrupt the pattern, allowing ourselves to have a conversation with our 5D self, our intuition (whatever that is for you) or just listen to the silence and change our timeline - bringing us back into reality. Which makes me wonder if we do have free will after all. If we can take a break from our reality and listen to our internal world - maybe, just maybe, we can change the script.

While this sounds very ethereal or woo-woo, it’s not dissimilar to most scriptures out there that discuss the power of prayer, meditation, and nature, listening to yourself, listening to god, whatever that may be. Because silence over consumption is probably the most powerful thing you can do in order to escape the content being drip-fed into your psyche on a daily basis.

Mass Drift & Political Consciousness

When we consume the third hologram (social media), it shapes how we see reality itself. Our identity can shift, our political beliefs can change, and it’s all done through others’ curated versions of themselves. We see this vividly in political ideology. The nature of social media and echo chambers allows us to engage with one piece of political content. Then we are fed a large amount of similar content and beliefs (Gao et al., 2023). The algorithm buckets us into stereotypes, feeding us content it thinks will be relevant to us. The more right-wing content you see, the more you will be fed. Same for left ideology. This can cause people to be trapped in this echo chamber and not be exposed to multiple sides of the argument. This is a big issue because at the core of ourselves, we are innately human and vastly complex and nuanced. We can believe multiple things at once; we are not always as black-and-white as the algorithm believes. You can identify as liberal, but hold conservative values. You can support Donald Trump and be part of the LGBT community. Bucketing ourselves into one or the other only causes divisiveness. But when it comes to social media, the narratives pushed on us, politically or otherwise, are narratives or projections of others’ holograms. Consuming other people’s political projections and ideas can override our own beliefs that belong to our authentic self. Of course, we can change our minds when it comes to politics. But when we are repeatedly exposed to a single message, we can change our minds quite easily, I believe. And these echo chambers can cause so much polarisation and division within society, offline (Hobolt et al, 2024). This is the issue that we as a society fall into; we can mistake the third hologram (social media) for our first hologram (environment). And when we mistake social media for the real world, what happens to our minds? What happens to how we live our lives? Yes, the narrative we consume on social media can be beneficial, some of it even educational, and it is great to be informed about the world - but it might not be the best for our personal lives. When there’s mass consumption at the level we are experiencing, there is also mass delusion, which just contributes to the hatred.

The society of the endless image has destroyed everything we knew about how we should live our lives from an intuitive, inherent place. Consuming the third hologram was never intended for us. And because of this, the mass drift takes over completely.

The Unknown

We’re the first generation living inside this social media experiment and the third hologram. Whether it was meant to be or not is a different question. But the biggest concern people have is: what is this doing to us neurologically? We know that using scrolling can have negative effects on the grey matter in the prefrontal cortex, but what is it ACTUALLY doing to us and our lives? (Aitken et al., 2025). While the researchers investigate the physical effects of too much consumption, what is happening to us on a mental or spiritual level? While the majority of us think we are the most intelligent beings on this planet, we have the awareness and capabilities to do more with our lives rather than be a computer in a monkey suit. This overuse of social media, technology, and consumption is causing the mass drift we all experience. Most of us have completely lost our way and lost sight of what we want in life, which goes against the grand plan that has been set out for us all along. The predetermined life by our 5D selves in the timeline. It’s all been aligned for us. But this mass consumption could be taking us away from this plan. From our true goals. Many people escape the mass drift and find themselves and their calling - but for some, they are too distracted by others’ stories to find out what’s really going on

This is the final essay in the hologram-within-a-hologram series. Exploratory in nature, the hologram series examines our reality, our interactions with the environment, the concept of free will, and social media as the third hologram. On a personal note, I’ve started the book ‘The Holographic Universe’ by Michael Talbot so that I may encounter these theories and concepts again in future essays.

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Get your copy of Returning To Photography Workbook - Built from 15+ years of photography, a first-class MSc in Cyberpsychology, and the experience of quitting and returning, and finding the way back to photography and to myself. Your love for photography is still there, but you can only return to it by learning about yourself first. The workbook includes 10 original frameworks, 22 exercises, 18 reflection questions, and over 100+ pages. More info on it here.

References:

Deniz Cemiloglu, Areej Babiker, Sameha Alshakhsi, Naiseh, M., Al-Thani, D., & Ali, R. (2025). Contrasting and Predicting Social Media’s Role in Addictive Use and Well-Being. Journal of Technology in Behavioral Science. https://doi.org/10.1007/s41347-025-00527-w

Sherrick, B., Hoewe, J., & Ewoldsen, D. R. (2021). Using narrative media to satisfy intrinsic needs: Connecting parasocial relationships, retrospective imaginative involvement, and self-determination theory. Psychology of Popular Media, 11(3). https://doi.org/10.1037/ppm0000358

Matthews, T., Arseneault, L., Bryan, B. T., Fisher, H. L., Gray, R., Henchy, J., Moffitt, T. E., & Odgers, C. L. (2025). Social media use, online experiences, and loneliness among young adults: A cohort study. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences. https://doi.org/10.1111/nyas.15370

Gao, Y., Liu, F., & Gao, L. (2023). Echo Chamber Effects on Short Video Platforms. Scientific Reports, 13(1). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-023-33370-1

Hobolt, S. B., Lawall, K., & Tilley, J. (2023). The Polarizing Effect of Partisan Echo Chambers. American Political Science Review, 118(3), 1–16. https://doi.org/10.1017/s0003055423001211

Aitken, A., Jounghani, A. R., Carbonell, L. M., Tadeo, D., Kumar, A., Crawford, S., Bowden, A. K., & Hosseini, S. M. H. (2025). Naturalistic fNIRS assessment reveals decline in executive function and altered prefrontal activation following social media use in college students. Scientific Reports, 15(1). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-025-20844-7

Talbot, M., & Mctaggart, L. (2011). The holographic universe : the revolutionary theory of reality. Harperperennial.

Dunbar, R. I. M. (1992). Neocortex size as a constraint on group size in primates. Journal of Human Evolution, 22(6), 469–493. https://doi.org/10.1016/0047-2484(92)90081-J

As discussed in parts one and two of the hologram-within-a-hologram series, I think this goes much deeper than just photography as a craft or skill. Photography has changed over the years with the advent of smartphones and the ability to carry cameras everywhere. So I must ask, what does it actually mean when we are constantly documenting images with our phones? The phone that’s tethered to us, the black mirror in our pocket, it encourages us to photograph everything around us, but is it true photography? Are we photographing like a ‘photographer’ or are we capturing the gaze of what we’re expected to photograph? I think there’s a difference between photographing your life, having an eye, noticing the moment and being considered a ‘photographer’, and documentation for documentation’s sake. To photograph and say ‘it’s for the memories’. When I think of this, I imagine group photographs at birthdays, christenings, and similar events. I guess it’s the fundamental difference between candid and posed photography.

Photography for Social Media Gaze: Candid or Posed?

Candid photography is the representation of the self, the mirror I spoke about in section two of this series. It’s photographing something in the moment and not realising why you like it. It’s about photographing the light on walls, the subtle human interaction between people. Posed photography is not negative but somewhat forced. It’s curated and arranged to create a memory, to ‘remember’ the day or the moment, but it may not be a true interpretation of the moment. A family feud behind the Christmas photo, a portrait of friends on holiday, but they are secretly eager to get home. Most of the time, it’s smiles, not the whole truth. I guess we can say that with candid AND posed photography, we never know the full truth; it’s always the photographer’s and the witnesses’ interpretations. But in candid photography, there’s less forced positivity than in posed images. Candid photography is the observer’s story about the environment, but probably a more accurate depiction of the subject’s feelings. But the real image, and what makes a real image, is the mirror and the reflection of the photographer. Because in candid photography, the image produced says much more about the photographer than about the subject.

When we think about mobile phone photography, we know it has blended the candid and the posed. We see this phenomenon across the globe, where there’s an attempt to be candid, knowing the photograph may be seen by the subject’s 200 Instagram followers. In an attempt to be unposed, the photograph is actually posed. A perfectly foamed flat white in a ceramic cup, your friend glancing out to the distance. It looks like a candid image, but it’s not. It’s perfectly curated for the gaze of the algorithm and the society of the endless image we all so desperately want to be a part of. So, because of this, I don’t believe 90% of mobile photography accurately reflects the photo-taker or the ‘documenter of the moment’. The reason is that we are so tethered to our phones these days that many of the photographs we take are subconsciously curated for a potential social media post. Of course, this is a generalisation. But I do believe the reason is that the ‘documenter of the moment’ or mobile phone photographer is already projecting how the image might look online from their psyche.

And with this, a boundary appears. The photographer no longer takes photographs for themself but for the viewer. It almost seems as if a mask appears over the image, obscuring the photograph’s reflection of the photographer’s true self. Because of this, I think that mobile phone photography is a different form of photography. If there were no social media, would we be photographing coffee cups with our analogue cameras and DSLRs? What would we photograph instead? Would we even want to photograph something? If true photography is the documentation of the hologram within a hologram, pseudo-iphone photography is a performance of documentation instead. Instead of it being a mirror to your soul, it becomes a fun-house circus mirror, distorted, unrealistic, and not showcasing the true essence of your soul.

Now, this is not to say that iPhone photography is bad, but rather that the majority of the photographs we take on our phones are not real photography. They do not represent who we are. They are not the mirror. They’re more layered and complex than anything. (I will expand on this in section four of this series.) But what strikes me is that we continue to consistently document and share our lives through pseudo-photography and image-making. Images that are not candid but also not posed, somewhere in between. We live our lives in a panopticon of screens with images that don’t accurately reflect us and who we are. The society of the endless image is a funhouse of mirrors, distorting and reflecting us in strange ways.

Memory is something we must consider, too. If we consistently document our lives in a semi-unrealistic state of somewhere between posed and candid imagery. What does this say about our memory in years to come? Will we remember the moment we were in, or the desire to find the right image to post on social media for others’ validation and connection? There is some research out there about the photo-taking-impairment effect—where photographed information is less likely to be remembered than non-photographed information. And it persists even when people take multiple photos of the same subject, regardless of whether they’re intentionally trying to remember. In studies examining this effect, participants who photographed artworks remembered fewer details than those who simply observed them. This actually suggests that delegating memory to the camera can prevent the encoding of lived experience into our brains. So what does this mean for social media documentation? When we photograph moments for Instagram, we are simultaneously disengaging from the actual memory-making process. We’re not remembering the moment we’re experiencing; we’re constantly outsourcing it to the black mirror, and then to the algorithm. The more we document every aspect of our lives, the less we actually remember them.

From 3D to 2D: The Third Hologram

In part two of the series, we discussed how photography documents the meeting of two realities: the external hologram we inhabit and the internal hologram we project from our minds. The photograph freezes that moment where both holograms merge; it’s the two puzzle pieces that meet. But iPhone photography is fundamentally different because of the liminal space between candid and posed photos, with the ultimate knowledge that the image could be shared. This photograph is not the documentation of that meeting of the two holograms. I think it’s the creation of a third hologram, our lives simulated as a performance on a phone screen.

What happens is that when we compress our lived 3D reality into a 2D phone screen, we’re no longer capturing a moment as it exists in the world. iPhone photography becomes a performance instead of a mirror. At the in-between state between candid and posed, we’re deciding what fits in the frame, what angle, what light, and what story we want to present. But we do this knowing it will be seen by the audience on screen, on Instagram, or on other platforms. But iPhones themselves are designed for social sharing online. The camera’s processing capabilities make every photograph look vibrant, smooth, and perfect for viewing by others in an online social setting. Even if you weren’t to photograph for algorithmic optimisation, the photograph will do that for you. The third hologram is the internal world projected into reality, plus the conceived version of who we’d like to be.

So we exist in a frozen 4D reality, documented through 3D photography in part two. But now, with iPhones, we’re creating a 2D simulation of ourselves — a third hologram that’s neither the world we inhabit nor the true reflection of our minds. It’s a curated performance, a mask we’ve learned to create so seamlessly that we may no longer remember what’s underneath. And the real question is: as we spend more time creating and sharing this third hologram, which reality are we actually living in?

Mass Drift & The Society of Endless Image

By now, we’ve established that iPhone photography creates a third hologram: a curated performance of ourselves. But there’s a larger cultural play at work that makes this third hologram inevitable and difficult to escape. It’s what I call the Mass Drift. Defined as the slow and mostly unconscious slide away from your authentic voice and vision, caused by the constant exposure to the endless stream of images around you (the society of the endless image). This has been happening for centuries because people lose themselves to expectations, convenience, and the need to belong to something greater than themselves. The difference between fifty years ago and now is that fifty years ago, you weren’t watching hundreds of other people’s curated lives every single day. You weren’t consumed by the third hologram, and you weren’t comparing your reality to a thousand versions of someone else’s. Because the phone is always within reach in our pockets, it offers infinite examples of how you “should” live, what you “should” photograph, and who you “should” be. Because we’re living in the society of the endless image, with images, moving and still everywhere we look, our ability to create from our true vision gets lost. Our photography may change, or the pseudo-iphone photography might take over, as we subconsciously attempt to create a vision that’s attractive to the gaze of the all-knowing, always-wise judge, the algorithm. And what does this cost us? It costs us technically years of not realising that we’re performing a facade, curating our lives for a pseudo-third hologram, and not fully participating in the one we were born into. Essentially, we’re living our lives for screens rather than ourselves. And the repercussions of this are not yet known in the long term.

But here’s something to note: the third hologram doesn’t stay separate from the first two holograms we exist in. What we create and share online acts as a spell of some kind, without getting too far down a magical lane. We become what we post. The identity we perform in the third hologram gradually embeds itself into how we see ourselves in the first and second holograms. These days in Cyberpsychology, it’s rare to find someone who is drastically different online than in real life (unless they are a catfish) and not because they’re being authentic online, but maybe because they’ve slowly internalised the persona they created. So in this case, the third hologram somewhat bleeds backwards.

This creates a loop: we drift in our creation by not creating from our true vision and being influenced by others. We then post the drifted version (the third hologram), and that drifted version becomes our reflected identity. Then we consume endless versions of everyone else’s drifted creations, which deepens the mass drift even further. And because of this, we no longer perform for the algorithm; instead, we very slowly overtime become the performance. There’s some Cyberpsychology research on identity development in digital spaces that reveals how this loop operates. We engage in self-presentation on social media, so when we curate what we show, what we hide, what side of ourselves we present to the world, we’re not performing for our audience- but the act of consistent self-presentation actually reshapes our self-concept. Our self-concept becomes shaped by these performances and the feedback we receive. Simultaneously, we are exposed to thousands of other curated self-presentations. We compare ourselves to these performances, evaluating and measuring against them, often unaware that we are comparing ourselves to other people’s curated lives. Because of this the loop compounds: we drift in creation through social comparison and audience feedback, post the drifted version, and then consume others’ drifts while comparing ourselves to them.

With the mass drift, people wake up years later and realise the life they’re living is not theirs. The photographs and art they create don’t feel like them, and the person they’ve become isn’t their true self. It was created from a thousand images they consumed and internalised without knowing it. In the next and final part of the hologram-within-a-hologram series, I will discuss how mass consumption affects our lives.

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Following up on the foundational concept that our existence is a hologram within a hologram, I believe the art of photography is a powerful force of self-reflection and mirroring within that theory. To recap from the previous essay:

• We are simultaneously projecting a hologram from our mind into a reality that already exists as a hologram in this world.

• If time is not linear, and everything exists all at once, I believe time therefore acts as a slingshot. We are constantly being catapulted into our future and brought back into our past. Our experience is just a reflection of that. Memory and intuition are key factors for this idea.

• If we are in a 4D reality, we live life like a stop-motion film. But the 5D self has the potential to change the course of our fate by selecting parallel 4D universes or timelines.

• More details and explanations can be found in the foundation essay here.

If, let’s say, the theory or concept is accurate, and we are in a hologram, then photography documents two perspectives of our lives, amalgamated. Photography documents the hologram we exist in, our environment, but also the hologram we project into the world from our mind. Photography not only captures what the world IS, but also how we perceive it. We can say this is similar to art that is not created from imagination. Art drawn from fiction or the imagination comes from the personal hologram, not from external reality. It’s the mind that exemplifies pure creation. But photography itself is the documentation of the perfect moment that cannot be reenacted, replaced or even felt the same way again. Our beliefs, expectations, desires and fears are projected into this reality or existence. And when we capture that slice of time, that moment, it becomes a record not just of this world, but of your subconscious mind alongside the collective unconscious. When we take photographs, we can document the existence we want to see in the world. Our desires and our longing for experiences, people or places are a direct reflection in our photos. Whether we realise it or not, we photograph what is meaningful to us.

Photography and the difference from other arts

Before cameras, documentation as self-expression was done through drawing, writing, or painting, all of which have their own merits but differ in the time it takes to sketch something out. With these types of art forms, there’s a back-and-forth exchange between the observer or creator and the subject, and the physical act of hand-making. It involves multiple aspects, including

[projecting from your mind + the moment in front of you + the ability to develop a skill with your physical body to create.]

(There is an accompanying presentation as seen in the YouTube video. If you wish to download the presentation, please click here.)

I believe photography is very different in this respect from other crafts or art forms. It’s the ability to take a piece of photo-sensitive film, expose it for a certain amount of time, and that allows us to capture what we see, or don’t want to see. While it requires a subconscious conversation between our internal world and external environment, it doesn’t require too much physical or creative skill to replicate what we see in front of us. This is especially true with the power of automatic cameras in iPhones and other digital photographic equipment. Because of this, and because of our accessibility to automatic cameras, every single person has the power to document what they want, what they think is valuable or worthy enough to photograph. This is what makes photography very different to a skill like painting.

Freezing Time in a Frozen Universe

According to my interpretation of the holographic universe theory, we live in a frozen 4D world in which time does not move linearly. So the documentation of our lives is vitally important to the self, because we can only recognise time through our 3D structure and being. So, when we take a photograph, we are coming from our 3D experience, taking from the 4D structure, but capturing it in a 2D frame. A slice of spacetime, from our own perception, literally. The way I can describe our experience in 4D is that we live life like a stop-motion film, and we have the opportunity to pause it with a camera. We have the privilege and ability to freeze a moment from the life that exists all at once. We believe we perceive life in a linear form, from A to B, which leads us to notice the present moment and document what we feel is valuable. Because if we were to experience life all at once, we would not appreciate the moment. Photography helps us with this, but also with our memory; it aids us in documenting and recalling. It gives us permission to prove we were witnesses in our own lives. That we, while living in this projected reality, merge the two mirages or holograms together for a split second. The two mirages are the one you’re born into in your environment and the one you create from your own mind.

Fate, Memory, Intuition & The Moment

If fate is inevitable, well, then that makes photography even more special. It becomes a form of meditation. Photography, if we think about it enough, allows us to step outside the dual realities that we exist in and observe to the point where we determine: “Yes, this is worthy of a photo. This moment I’m experiencing is worthy enough to be captured.” And then we shoot.

But the real questions and thinking happen when we ask ourselves why? Why do I want to document this moment? What drew me to this? What does it say about me and my life? And most importantly, what story do I tell myself about this image? Because that’s the story you tell yourself about your life.

From my own projected reality, with my own subconscious as the driving force, meeting in the middle with the external hologram or environment, I notice that the image I take combines the two realities into one. And because my life is one of a kind, my mind is one of a kind. My life is just a reflection of my own internal world - it means the image you or I create is truly unique. Truly something that can never, ever be replaced. Maybe it could be reenacted. But the memory lingers with a false narrative. Your mind knows the reenactment photo from your version of Henri Cartier-Bresson’s decisive moment. The viewer may not be able to tell the difference, but you, as the observer, know.

This is where we come back to the slingshot theory. Memories from the past exist now, as the future does, and we constantly project into the future and catapult into the past. We call this memory and intuition. Our minds know what’s going to happen; that’s why we get gut feelings. But when it comes to our vision and our desire to photograph something, it’s also an important factor of the slingshot theory. Our memory and our intuition are tied directly to what we desire and fear. So, when we take a photograph, it’s because it reminds us of something we perhaps experienced in the past, or maybe it’s a desire for our future. Or maybe it’s part of that intuition guiding us towards something we want. Well, I personally believe the people I photograph are memories from my past, stories I lived or wanted to live, or desires for my future. I photograph an elderly lady and her grandchild, and it makes me miss or grieve the relationship I didn’t experience with my estranged grandmother.

I love documenting human interaction, the nuances of body language, and play between others. I love how people present themselves in different ways and how the camera brings out our different sides. But the human interaction piece is quite interesting. My psychology and personality scream neurodivergent - unable to fit in, slightly misunderstood by many, great at socialising (but masking) and constantly questioning identity and the self. But seeing people interact is a memory of how I could not interact without feeling uncomfortable and somewhat socially isolated as a child. At the same time, I believe my documentation of people on the street reflects my intuition and comes back to my firm belief and understanding that our human race is continually expected to communicate with technology rather than face-to-face. This means the photographs I take are not just a mirror of my subconscious and my soul, but they’re captured in the external reality we’ve been projected into.

The Mutual Agreement

When we witness a photograph printed and unedited, or a negative if you are a film photographer, we are witnessing a mirror of the social, emotional, and psychological fragments that make us who we are. It’s a reflection of our personality, our unique essence within this reality. And that mirror we see ourselves in is placed in a strategic landscape, the environment we found ourselves in, the hologram projected from the unknown boundary. A photo, like a mirror, can tell so much about the camera woman/man, the observer, more than a journal entry. Because it is instant, the creator does not have to weave through their thoughts or articulate themselves in a way they think might be appropriate for the time. The photograph is almost instantaneous, to the point that we cannot tell what it means to us until we go back and see it from a distance.

What’s interesting is that there are two stories happening in parallel with each other. The photographer tells a different story from the witness who views the photograph. Because the photographer is documenting their mind, projected into this reality. But the witness to the image can only create the story they tell themselves about it. And based on their reaction or non-reaction to the image, we can say that they could simultaneously see themselves in it. And if that happens, if the witness truly sees themselves in the image or photo - this is another variation of ‘mutual agreement’ - similar to the mutual agreement as discussed before within the waltz between the observer and the observed in this essay. If the witness likes the image, it’s because they see their reflection, their fears, desires, their timeline of the slingshot - memory and intuition.

Ultimately, our photographs leave clues, as insights into our lives, how we exist within the mirage, how we project ourselves into this reality. The two holograms are puzzle pieces that meet and solidify when the image is taken, and no other craft can do this. We exist as 3D beings within a 4D structure and can capture that in a 2D frame. Photography in this case - it’s the meeting of our mind, our soul, our self, forecast in this world. And because no other craft can replicate it to the point where it’s almost an instant meeting, photography, therefore, is pure magic.

In the next essay in this series, I will discuss how iPhone photography differs from photography with traditional cameras, and how social media has affected our ability to consume images rather than create them.

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Memory as a map

Recently, I’ve been thinking about memory and how it interacts with our perception of time and our brains. I think that our reality is much more than what we actually can perceive, and the act of creation and consumption also plays a large part in our perception of the world and our current reality. To be clear, I am not a neuroscientist, physicist, or mathematician. I am, however, interested in our lives and how we perceive the world as individuals and as a collective. I have many questions that I’d like to answer. This essay is part 1 of 3, the foundation of my thinking around our perception and memory of time. While my words may resemble other theories about our existence, I am writing purely from my own realisations and conversations with others as I develop my understanding of the world. This theory is ever evolving and not determined or solidified.

The concept of memory is quite interesting and a focus of my work. I like the concept that photographs are memories of our time in the world, and archiving is very important to me. I discuss this in the archive audit and ‘living life and legacy’ section in my returning to photography workbook; you can read more there. Memory is one of the few factors in our lives that brings us peace, hope, and happiness. It allows us to feel what we miss and to yearn for what we desire in our future. Luckily for me, I have friends who are interested in the same themes in life. One friend in particular, Lianne, a neuroscientist at UCL, is conducting her PhD research on memory and trauma. In a recent conversation, I was firing off many questions about her research, eager to learn more about how our brains work. One thing that drew my curiosity was the placement of memory within our brains. Specifically asking, is memory localised to one area? Well, to reiterate in layman’s terms, she explained that memory is not localised to one area of the brain. If we imagine a memory occurring, there might be a web of different brain regions firing. When we experience a moment through our senses, our memory is activated, and we might remember something else related to it. I hear a beautiful symphony and remember a rendition of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons in an old Viennese church. I smell the fusion of fresh bread and the lingering smoke of Marlboro, and I’m instantly transported to my grandmother’s kitchen. This is about remembering, but also about nostalgia, predicting the future, perception and storytelling. My description is obviously a very simplified, layman’s account of how memory works in the brain. And from my perspective, if the brain were scanned top down and we were to see a memory activate, it would look something like this.

My friend explained, upon seeing my diagram, that when one of these memory nodes lights up, they all do. They are all interconnected. If we were to visualise the brain from the side, and for the sake of the diagram, imagine the memories stacked on top of one another; it would look something like this.

All memories are layered on top of one another, as shown in this visual representation. However, it’s important to note that memories may not be linear in reality. Once we grasp this visual concept, we can proceed to the next part of the theory and revisit memory later on in the essay.

Time as a slingshot

It’s a common theory within the scientific community that time is not linear. Our experience of the world, while it feels like we move through time from Point A to Point B, is not really how time works. If I am to imagine it, I think time exists as a slingshot, moving from the past, the present and the future all simultaneously. Our current experience of the present moment is now in the centre, and we are constantly projected forward into the future and catapulted back, as you can see in the diagram below.

Our lives happen all at once, but we experience time only in the present moment-our current reality. Right now, in my present moment, I am typing this while listening to classical music. The sun has hidden behind the clouds, and I can sense my two cats are getting hungry for their lunch, as am I. And in your present moment right now, you could be on the train, or in your bed reading this, potentially fully engaged or maybe daydreaming. That is your present moment, your centre of the slingshot. I think the slingshot’s consistent back-and-forth is so fast and occurs at such a microscopic level that we actually experience our entire lives in an instant. Memory and nostalgia feel so real because they are; they’re not in our present moment, but they still exist in our minds, and somewhere in this reality. The future is already written, and, according to the slingshot theory, we are getting micro-glimpses of our future reality if we are aware enough to notice them. So if time is to exist all at once, it makes me think how we might be living in the holographic universe, which I will discuss further in the next section.

The Holographic Universe and the 4D

The holographic universe theory suggests that our existence is a 3D projection from a 2D boundary. While the Big Bang theory is widely recognised as the most probable explanation for our existence, the holographic universe is also a plausible alternative and is popular with some scientists. The best way to describe the holographic universe is to imagine a hologram on your credit card, a 3D element on a 2D plane. This is essentially what the holographic universe could be. Now, without going into too much detail around the maths and physics of this, we can presume that it is a possibility. Another recent discovery that suggests this is a possibility comes from a study by Lior Shamir, in which opposite parts of the sky mirrored each other. It seems that in one part of the universe, a series of galaxies spins clockwise, and in the exact opposite region, galaxies spin counterclockwise. This discovery actually supports the holographic universe theory. Now, let’s say for argument’s sake we were living in a holographic universe, what does that say about our existence and consciousness?

What we do know is that we are currently experiencing a 3D reality, but space-time is 4D. But I genuinely believe there are multiple dimensions and planes we exist on. 4D is actually you + the entire world’s existence. Our concept of being present, or “now,” is literally just a slice of time within 4D, or the current moment in the slingshot theory. We can only ever perceive now, because we are 3d. Time doesn’t necessarily happen; we stumble through the 4D, moment by moment, because, in the 4D, everything exists all at once, like in the slingshot theory. There is no such thing as past, present, or future. The dinosaurs existed at the same time as Donald Trump in power in 2026. My 9-year-old self exists at the same time as my 93-year-old self. Time doesn’t happen; it doesn’t move linearly like we think it does. We experience a slice of time as consciousness, as presence. So, in 10 minutes, I’ll go up to boil the kettle and make a cup of tea. The act of getting up, boiling the kettle, putting the tea bag in the mug, etc., exists right now. When I first learned to play the drums as a teenager, that moment exists right now. When my future baby is potentially born, that moment exists right now. When the time comes for me to die, that moment exists, right now. We move through life like a stop-motion film, high-definition, high-speed. We’re constantly swinging back and forth on the slingshot’s pendulum, perceptually, in our brain, but trapped in a 3D reality within 4D spacetime.

To help visualise this concept further, I can imagine what 4D in our realm would look like: Imagine a piece of paper - that is the 4D. Anything that has ever existed and will ever exist lives within the boundary of that sheet of paper. If the Big Bang existed, it would start at the beginning of the sheet, and the end of the universe as we know it would lie at the end of that sheet. Somewhere (probably close to the left-hand side of the page- the beginning) is where you live or exist on that plane, but only as a microscopic slice of that sheet. We are constantly moving through the invisible microscopic lines on the paper, but the sheet exists all at once.

So we can see, we exist on a plane that has already occurred – we are a story already written; fate is potentially determined for us in this lifetime because everything already exists - our lives are just our perception of it. The story is written, the players are played.

Higher Dimensions, God & Suffering

Now, let’s look at the 5D and beyond. Let’s say that your fate, or mine, is predetermined with this theory. Life will unfold for me in a certain way in the 4D, and I experience it like a stop-motion film in the 3D. Back to our piece of paper. All of humanity, reality, existence as we know it, lies on the 4D plane (or sheet) “A”. The concept of moving to the 5D will look like this. My 5D self can witness the piece of paper… Life “A”. My 5D self sees and knows exactly how my life will pan out. Not only this, but I also think my 5D self has the power to guide it and make changes. It doesn’t just see sheet “A”; it also sees options for sheets B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, and so on. The 5D self is able to make changes for my life in particular. It can witness the 3D self in this reality and help us choose the path we are on, simultaneously creating supposed butterfly effects. Interestingly, this could also be the reason for the phenomenon known as the Mandela effect.

If life “A” is a sheet of paper, the multiple lives are stacks of paper, a pile of parallel universes that my 5D (or higher self) can choose from. This makes me think that our intuition is actually our higher self redirecting us onto a path (or paper) we are not currently on. So, when we think about god, or the concept of god, is it really a man in the sky? Or is it ourselves? Our intuition guides us, helping us make the right decisions for us when we need them. This brings me back to the slingshot concept - we technically know our future. When we pray, and we really listen, we get the answers. Most religions believe this. But when we pray, are we just listening to our higher selves?

My desire to understand our being and nature in this reality fascinates me, and, if I’m honest, I really like the theory I’m cultivating as I write, think, and experience the world. I recognise this theory may be debunked, and that’s fine. For example, most scientists believe the Big Bang occurred, and some also support the holographic universe theory. However, the Big Bang could be part of that piece of paper. Instead of time expanding, maybe it all just happened at once, and we were experiencing or perceiving it. But as I write this, there are hard questions I must ask. If our supposed 5D self controls our existence and can direct our lives in such a way, why is there so much suffering in the world? If we are connected to the source, or god, or our higher selves, why does suffering exist for some? Maybe it’s spiritual lessons? Maybe it’s bad luck? But really, I don’t know if luck has anything to do with it. If our life is preplanned, why are there babies dying in Gaza? Who said I have the right to live in this 3D reality over them? Why would their supposed 5D counterpart choose that life for them? Well, maybe that’s my theory debunked.

One thing I do believe, however, is the concept of dark and light, yin and yang. And I really believe this universe needs an equal amount of good and bad, negative and positive ions, dark and light energy to survive. It’s the same with people and our society; we cannot be all good and all bad. And if the Earth that we inhabit were a utopia, where suffering did not exist, I don’t believe the planet itself would exist. We need both in order to survive. Because, like in a painting, we must see the shadows in order to appreciate the light.

Connecting time, memory, nostalgia & intuition

To bring the thread of thought together, I will now connect my beliefs about how memory, time, and the universe are related. Earlier, I wrote about my conversation with my friend and how memory pathways activate multiple brain regions. Well, to follow up, if we take into consideration the slingshot theory, my hypothesis is that if we experience the present moment as happening all at once, this might mean that memories from the past fire the same way as our memories from the future.

We can see that in the slingshot or non-linear time, it focuses on the “now” at the centre of the brain, and time collapses, simultaneously projecting us forward into the future while catapulting us into the past; this is how we remember events. We hear a song and feel a connection to something from our past. But at the same time, what if it’s linked to our future? We hear a symphony, and imagine the rendition of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons in an old Viennese church, and then we continue to think… to daydream. From here, we imagine what it might be like to go back to Vienna, or maybe take a trip to another part of Austria, or take the train to Switzerland and spend some time in the Alps. This daydream, this imagination, is it the 5D self showing us our memories from the future, and, if we wish, acting on them? It seems that the concepts of nostalgia and intuition are just our brains firing the higher consciousness, either replaying moments from our lives, guiding us on our path, or choosing a new one for us.

The hologram within a hologram

While we are in the holographic universe, with a 2D horizon projecting 3D reality in front of us, are we simultaneously projecting our 3D reality from our brains? Is what we see through our eyes, the world around us, the lives we live, just a projection of our internal world, those memories we have experienced and yet to experience? The 2D horizon in this case is the firing of memory activations, and we project through our senses into what we call reality. If this were the case, we project our reality into this 3D realm; are we technically the hologram within a hologram?

We are. We are simultaneously living in a holographic universe while projecting our reality from our internal 2D memory boundaries, governed by our higher-dimensional self. We are not merely observers of this universe, but participants in its creation. Every moment we experience, every memory we remember, every nudge of intuition we follow, these are acts of projection. We project our 3D reality from the inside out, while at the same time being read by the 4D structure in which we exist.

This is the real paradox: that we are both the dreamer and the dream. The universe projects itself onto us through this 2D boundary, and we project ourselves back into it through our perception, our consciousness, our choices. We are the storytellers of our lives, and the stories are writing us. Through memory, nostalgia, and intuition — through the firing of neural pathways that span time — we tell the story of our lives. But the story was always there; we’re not actually creating it, we’re playing it into existence. You experience life like it’s happening, but it’s already written. You’re walking a path that’s already there, discovering it as you go.

This is what it means to be a hologram within a hologram. I don’t believe we’re necessarily trapped, or that our lives are predetermined in a way that removes meaning. But we’re alive inside a recurring loop where the observer and the observed are the same thing, eternally reflecting each other. We’re essentially the creation and the creator all at once.

And this is why our eyes are so important. Our vision, our dreams. This is why photography is important: it encompasses not just the dance between the observed and the observer, but also memory, nostalgia, and your relationship with a higher self. Your perception of time, your perception of life. It’s the ultimate documentation of the hologram within the hologram, registering the mirror of our consciousness and soul. I will write more about this in Part 2.

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Are we all living in our own version of Plato’s cave? I watched a documentary about the psychology of Kim Jon Un in North Korea, and it made me think about some of the people that live there. Do some people know they’re trapped? Or are they brainwashed enough not to think about it? Subsequently, this made me think about Plato’s cave and the personal prison we create in our lives. The borders and barriers we place on ourselves that stop us from experiencing true freedom, whatever way we define it. It’s the feeling that we have a dream or a vision for our life that escapes us. I call this the mass drift: the moment we disconnect from our true, authentic voice and nature due to influence, distraction, and a lack of discipline. For North Koreans, escape is not possible (most of the time), for most of us in the Western world, freedom exists beyond the limits of our own minds.

In Plato’s book, The Republic, he imagined a group of people chained in a cave, facing a wall their entire lives. Behind them, a fire casts shadows of figures moving in the darkness on the walls. To these prisoners, those shadows are their reality. They’ve never seen anything else. One prisoner escapes, stumbles out into the sunlight, is blinded by it, and slowly begins to see the world as it actually is. When he returns to tell the others, they reject him. This is because the cave is familiar, and the light is their fear. This is the allegory of the cave, and we are all living in our own version of one.

Now, when people hear the phrase ‘escape the Matrix’, they usually think of either the 90’s Keanu Reeves movie, or internet gurus discussing supposed financial freedom, as they lecture you from their yacht in the Mediterranean, or house lined with rented Lamborghinis. This is all for show- a facade to get you to buy their course on how to make a course so that you can sell a course to other people. The pyramid scheme trap. But to escape the matrix is really to escape the limits of your own beliefs, which have placed a ceiling on your life.

So I wonder to myself: Is there a better way for us to live our lives than how we are currently living? Do North Koreans think of us as living a ‘better’ life, or just different? But really, this isn’t just about North Korea - the desire to escape is universal. It doesn’t matter where you are or what you have. The city dweller in London longs for the green fields of Yorkshire. The impressionable young girl living in a slum in Brazil craves the flashy LA lifestyle. The wealthy banker in Tokyo wants to escape to the Saharan plains of North Africa. We all want something beyond where we are.

I believe there are two caves we must overcome. The first is deeply personal; the beliefs, fears and invisible walls we inherited from those before us, the prison cell we created for ourselves. The second is societal; the world we live in has built its own cave around us, one we willingly walk into every day, which puts pressure on us to keep us grounded in our own personal Plato prison, too. Overcoming these caves is challenging, but the hardest is the personal prison. Yet, once we dismantle that, we’re one step closer to freedom.

Escaping the prison I created for myself.

All alternative realities exist, no matter what direction in the world we look. And too many of us wish to be somewhere else than where we actually are. The man escaped the cave, conquered his fear, and came back to tell the others. But they’re stuck too. The occupants of the cave look at the blinding light and think it’s dangerous, so they don’t leave. But is it really dangerous? We all have a Plato’s cave to a degree, and we all inhabit fear. The fear of being outside your comfort zone, of venturing into the real world. To escape the matrix, that prison cell you created for yourself - the personal Plato’s cave.

For me, I noticed certain beliefs I held about my life, my identity, and the world. These beliefs created a structure, a frame, a trap, with me in the middle. Inherited from generations before me, built up these invisible walls around my psyche, which affected everything else in my life. My relationships, my work. Without getting into too much detail, something recently shifted for me. Something so significant that I could see the prison walls built from past events and were solidified by new situations throughout my 33 years on this earth, patterns that I and others were repeating. Except that the recent situation I encountered was different. This time, it wasn’t directly about me. I could see the patterns play out in real time, with other people, not me, and it wasn’t mine to carry anymore. And once I noticed it, my past relationships and my views on life all started to make sense. I couldn’t unsee it. In that moment, the prison walls began to disintegrate and crash around me. The fears I had about this life, I realised, were not mine but were projected onto me by others. And with that singular event, I came back to myself, the fears dissolved, my illusion shattered, and my life began again.

The shadows we can’t stop watching; society of the endless image, and Burke’s Yesteryear

I realise that most people in life won’t be able to experience that moment. And the ones that do, that catch the patterns of their personal prison playing out in front of them - they consider it a gift. Because it really is a key to their own freedom. But there’s a bigger reason why people never get that moment of clarity, and never escape the cave. It’s because modern society has been designed to keep us trapped as we are. The societal cave we live in keeps us where we are, enforcing and strengthening our personal beliefs as we move about in this world. This creates deep pressure on our personal Plato’s cave, making it difficult for us to escape. We live in what I call the society of the endless image; a world that never stops showing us other people’s lives, other people’s desires, other people’s caves through imagery. The online scroll never ends, and that algorithm never sleeps. Because of constant connectivity and influence, we lose who we really are and never find that freedom, due to distraction. And this is called the mass drift, drifting so far from our true desires, we reach the state in life of regret.

I believe that the society of the endless image is the modern-day Plato’s cave. The shadows on the wall are TikTok dances, Instagram stories, and highlight reels of lives that may not even be real. The light source is the truth of what we really desire. The chains are the panopticon we have trapped ourselves in, online and offline. We’re chained to the wall because we’re performing for an audience. On social media and at your local coffee shop, at your family gatherings every Christmas, and at your job. We keep scrolling, keep posting, keep consuming because we’re caught in a loop of being watched and watching others. Nobody actually needs to force us anymore; we do it to ourselves. The two prisons we’re trapped in dance with each other, creating a feedback loop — the societal cave feeding the personal one, and the personal one pulling us deeper into the societal.

Nowhere is this more perfectly illustrated than in Caro Claire Burke’s debut novel, Yesteryear. The book follows a traditional-housewife influencer, Natalie, who promotes a ‘traditional life’. She hired producers and nannies, but presented herself online as the housewife with no help. Her husband supposedly ran the farm alone, but behind the scenes, there were cases of animal abuse, neglect and teams of people helping him. Natalie seems deeply unhappy with her life, yet upholds the ideal of traditional conservative family values — showcasing a beautiful, idyllic existence she clearly doesn’t believe in. She performed a longing for simpler times, and the facade was very successful on social media. One day, she wakes up in the 1800s on a real farm in the middle of nowhere, with memories of her life in the 21st century and realises that the traditional life she had been selling is nothing like the real thing. An allegation emerged, and her millions of followers turned against her. In the end, we see that she didn’t time-travel back to the 1800s, but instead created a life so representative of the 1800s that she forgot she had forced it on herself.

The book is brilliant because it examines how social media can spin a lie so deep that it turns her home into a Plato’s cave she built herself, both psychologically and in the physical realm. She performed a lifestyle for the gaze of millions and built her own panopticon. She constructed those walls herself. Natalie didn’t have Kim Jong Un forcing her hand; she was the puppetmaster and the prisoner simultaneously. Her beliefs about her life engulfed her to the point where her life became her prison, physically and mentally. When she was banished on social media due to an allegation, she retreated into what she created and what she knew, her cave. And when the external force, her eldest daughter in this case, stepped in to remove her new children, Natalie saw the light source of the truth from her cave, and she was unable to unsee it. Her illusion was shattered. Like Natalie, once I saw the truth of my situation and realised the beliefs I held were not mine, I was able to step outside. That felt like freedom.

Freedom and the paradox of choice

Nietzsche defines freedom as: “...the will to be responsible for ourselves. It is to preserve the distance which separates us from other men. To grow more indifferent to hardship, to severity, to privation, and even to life itself.” (Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols). But this could be relevant to all aspects of your life. How do we define freedom for ourselves? What does that look like for you, specifically? It could be financial freedom, psychological freedom, location freedom-the ability to stay or to go.

To escape both the personal and societal Plato’s caves, you first need to know what freedom means to you. Because once the prison door opens — and if it opens — you will be consumed by the paradox of choice. And if you cannot decide on what you desire, what your soul desires, you will be overwhelmed and consumed by the mass drift, or the societal cave. The society of the endless image has given us so many shadows to watch, so many lives to compare ourselves to, so many caves to wander into. There’s too much choice, and no compass to decide where to go.

We see this with the North Korean defector, Sungju Lee, who, after escaping North Korea, stood in a store, overwhelmed by the choice of pens. He was free at last, but paralysed by the choice. So, the question to begin with isn’t how you escape your cave. It’s, do you know what you’re escaping towards?

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Get your copy of Returning To Photography Workbook - Built from 15+ years of photography, a first-class MSc in Cyberpsychology, and the experience of quitting and returning, and finding the way back to photography and to myself. Your love for photography is still there, but you can only return to it by learning about yourself first. The workbook includes 10 original frameworks, 22 exercises, 18 reflection questions, and over 100+ pages. More info on it here.

Media & References:

• Kim Jong Un: The Psychology of a Tyrant | North Korea: Inside the Mind of a Dictator MEGA Episode link

• The real North Korea: Life inside the Hermit Kingdom the world rarely sees | 60 Minutes Australia link

• Yesteryear, Caro Claire Burke, 2026

• Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols

• Plato, The Republic, Book VII
  

But if I’m honest, I had to ask myself, had I become too reliant on it? For idea generation, to help me write more, to help me with navigating some business and personal tasks. The frustration I’ve experienced when I ask Claude to do the same task 5 times, but it never really got the picture. The frustration eventually became so real that I just did the task myself. And wow, didn’t it feel much different, more fulfilling, more satisfying. So, I must ask, if it feels better to actually use our brain, why the hell are we outsourcing our critical thinking and conversations to AI, and what does that mean for our future?

AI, class and cognitive offloading

These technology companies are tricking you into thinking you’re smart because you’re using AI, but it is actually making you stupid. I think that people think they are smarter with how much they can get done using AI. Their productivity levels go through the roof - but outsourcing our critical thinking skills is probably one of humanity’s biggest crimes. It’s blasphemy against all who have come before us, and the societies and technology that we have built.

In the past, studies have shown there’s a correlation of ‘lower’ or less educated classes and higher media usage. Many recent studies show that higher media usage correlates with lower grades and critical thinking (Cheng et al., 2024, Galindo-Domínguez et al., 2025, Gerlich, 2025, Lodge & Loble, 2026). I think that AI has the power to ‘dumb’ down people. People can cognitively offload to the point where there’s no need to actually use our brains anymore, and this is obviously quite dangerous. Now of course, some would argue that this is scaremongering or that it’s media panic. Well this is nothing new. People blamed TV for the rise of adolescent aggression in the 50s and 60s. Some were afraid of video games because they incited more violence in the 80s. I personally thought at one stage that social media was inherently bad, but changed my view to see these technological advances are actually tools for our civilisation, nothing more. This panic actually has a term, it’s called the Sisyphean cycle of technology panics. But honestly, it’s not the physical technology we should be afraid of, we should actually be afraid of the dark aspects of the relationship with ourselves. Addiction, dependency, etc. Like driving, the car can get you from A to B, but it can be dangerous. Technology should be viewed the same way. You’re the driver, control your vehicle. How this technology can be dangerous depends on the medium.

The content we consume on these devices through social media can be particularly dangerous. We have access to a vast amount of information readily available at our fingertips. There’s endless choice of what to consume. Social media is the mind-numbing adult pacifier we indulge in daily. The dark psychological aspects of ourselves we experience because of social media, these will only be exaggerated further because of AI. Why? Well, AI is becoming one of the most advanced, personalised psychological weapons out there. This is where I’m concerned. There has been numerous reports of children accessing AI and ending up suicidal, and grown adults with no previous history of poor mental health going into psychosis. If you’ve any interest in the news around AI, this will not be new. And as there is so much information about AI out there, I won’t continue with this. I’m more concerned about how AI usage relates to disadvantaged socioeconomic groups. For first example, AI can be very beneficial to create and curate, to organise and help. And the fact it is cheap/free/readily available is fantastic, but it comes with some caveats. OpenAI has not turned a profit since the beginning of the company, and there is no forecast that they ever will. Therefore, they will have to start relying on monetisation through advertising platforms. The rich will be able to remove the ads or a subscription fee, the poor will pay the cognitive load of being bombarded with adverts, while being reliant and psychologically dependent on technology. If the less-educated use more technology passively, and cannot afford to remove ads, they will experience cognitive overload with advertisements, psychological dependency, and emotional, logistical and psychological reliance on these chatbots. I think the future of socioeconomic groups won’t be just about money and education, but it will be based around the question; ‘how reliant on technology are you?’ I don’t believe AI is inherently bad, but I do think it has created a silent war on education, critical ability and class. Socio-economic groups won’t be about just money anymore, but it will be a direct correlation with how much you’re outsourcing your brain and critical thinking skills to AI.

This technology is designed to be your companion. Your friend. The one who fixes anything and everything in a second. We’ve been conditioned to now live in a culture of convenience. With a couple of taps you get anything you want sent to your door, food, sex, entertainment. Many people don’t even travel anymore, because they can experience it through a phone. And when this culture of convenience is wrapped up as a character or companion who can fulfil all your needs, what’s the point of using your brain then? What’s the point of leaving the house? What’s the point of human interaction?

The false companionship between humans and avatars

In 2020, while I was completing my MSc in Cyberpsychology, I had a particular interest in AI chatbots and photorealistic avatars. And this was before ChatGPT got popular. My startup Sersha, was originally going to be based on photorealistic avatars delivering therapy. However, I found that I wasn’t able to progress due to lack of funding and other ethical reasons, of course. I found it fascinating how the technology behind photorealistic avatars had the capability to communicate facial and micro expressions and intricate nuances through body language. My question at the time was, is it possible to replicate or mimic empathy without experiencing an uncanny valley?

6 years later, I believe it would have to be classified as a different type of ‘empathy’ because technically computers can’t feel anything, and empathy is traditionally between two people. Meta Labs and Unreal Engine have been working on this idea which has progressed exponentially since. In gaming and virtual reality, photorealism is a success, but not without its challenges. In reality, the bots and avatars we usually interact with, they’re not too human-like. In fact, we still haven’t been able to overcome that uncanny valley idea with robots and human-like machines. We as humans have this incredible capability to notice if something is off or unnatural with a face. And it’s why in many businesses and movies, if they develop a character they will make it less human and more child-like or ‘cute’ with features that are understated and/or exaggerated. People do actually develop emotional and relational connections with robots and toys and digital companions - this is called anthropomorphism, and it’s only become more intense in recent years because of AI’s advancements. So it goes to show that in order for humans to have a connection with robots they just need subtle human-like qualities, not the full experience.

A big concern for me is that if we can overcome the uncanny valley, our society might be doomed for connection. AI conversation bots are already highly addictive and sycophantic in nature. They create a false sense of companionship and intimacy with the user that fools the smartest of people. Once we pair this intimate chatbot experience with a digital companion who has a human or friendly face - it won’t just increase our dependency on the AI, but it will ultimately remove our desire for human connection and interaction, making us further isolated in society. As Sherry Turkle predicted in her Ted Talk, 14 years ago; “We’re lonely, but we’re afraid of intimacy. And so from social networks to sociable robots, we’re designing technologies that will give us the illusion of companionship without the demands of friendship.” In her book she discusses how people talk about relationships with robots with a 30 year old man remarking “I’d rather talk to a robot. Friends can be exhausting. The robot will always be there for me. And whenever I’m done, I can walk away.” Considering Sherry Turkle wrote Alone Together in 2011, it’s quite chilling how this has become more evident in this day and age.

When I was building my startup and had this idea, I genuinely thought that it would be the answer to a lot of people’s issues in the world, in particular when it comes to the lack of mental health resources. However, in hindsight, the value of human connection just can’t be replaced. The spark of the two people that meet to converse is a special thing in itself, and the reliance we have on AI chat bots and potentially with future avatars and digital companions is quite concerning, particularly for people like children and the elderly who might be susceptible to it.

Why Project Hail Mary’s Rocky struck a chord with everyone

When I first saw the intergalactic character, Rocky in Project Hail Mary, I had convinced myself that this was a kids movie. The movie was overhyped, and everyone thought ‘ cinema was back’. The beginning of the movie with the Hollywood-esque TikTokified one liner script was slightly off putting. But then as the movie progressed, the character not only grew on me, but so did their bond, their connection. And I’m not the only one to think so.

The movie itself was one about friendship, connection, love, but I think that there’s something deeper. I think the movie was a mirror, a perfect representation of how disconnected we are in today’s age. Rocky is the ideal example of the avatars described in the last section of this essay. There’s a subtlety of realism, a hint of a personality and relatability, but ultimately we know that Rocky was not “real”. He is the delicate balance between pet and human and I think that’s the reason the movie resonated with so many people. The relationship between Rocky and Dr.Ryland Grace was not too dissimilar to a man and a dog - a man’s best friend.

The movie is a reflection of how we are living our lives. We are isolated from each other, like Dr. Grace being isolated in space, that any kind of connection will hit home and feel stronger. I think as individuals in this society, we’re desperate for the unwavering, unconditional love and respect we saw between the two intergalactic beings on the big screen. And that’s why it affected people so deeply. People are longing to find connection, their Rocky, but my fear is that they might find it through AI, and isolate themselves further. Turkle puts it best; “We are psychologically programmed not only to nurture what we love but to love what we nurture. So even simple artificial creatures can provoke heartfelt attachment…Sociable robots serve as both symptom and dream: as a symptom, they promise a way to sidestep conflicts about intimacy; as a dream, they express a wish for relationships with limits, a way to be both together and alone.” (Turkle, 2011) Rocky is always available, knowledgeable, convenient, intelligent, compassionate. AI is always available, knowledgeable, convenient, intelligent, compassionate. The only difference between Rocky and AI, is that we are to believe that Rocky was not a piece of technology but an alien with his own feelings, beliefs and emotions. But with AI’s so-called personality, some will fall for the idea that AI is also alive.

Rocky was Grace’s missing piece, not just on his journey into space, but in life. His ‘mans best friend’, his companion. I think this movie was the perfect call to action to find connection in life, platonic, professional, communal, familial or romantic. Whatever that might be. To step out of isolation from the endless screens and AI chatbots, and to be with others, no matter what shape they take - just not through AI.

A call to analogue and living offline

So, what does this look like in reality? How can we develop connections with others while increasing our cognitive abilities? Well, there have been a huge amount of people that have come to me and don’t know how to overcome this dependency they are experiencing on technology to fulfill all their needs, and I tell them the same thing every time, pick a craft.

This is why I think the analogue trend in 2026, while just a trend, is actually somewhat good. Reading, writing, film photography, hobbies offline, all in the real world. All of these are the perfect antidote to the cognitive offloading and the lack of connection we are experiencing. Analogue hobbies allow us to be in the real world - to communicate, connect and create.

Choosing a craft has worked for me, and I’ve noticed my dependency on AI for tasks plummet. Last year, I sold all my digital gear and bought one manual rangefinder and one lens. I’ve been teaching myself how to take photographs again. Not for anyone else, but for myself. The act of learning a new skill, but also dedicating myself to it has brought me new opportunities and has been rewarding in terms of projects too. (Like my Returning To Photography Workbook).

I believe that everyone has one thing they love and can dedicate their lives to. If people have something they work on, they can find satisfaction and transmute their ideas through their craft, their language of choice. It doesn’t matter what it is. It could be carpentry, photography, writing, gardening, driving bikes, making cocktails. It doesn’t matter the craft, it’s about dedication to the craft over the span of a long duration of time, preferably a lifetime. The craft is a dedication and commitment to one thing to grow and master. It does not have to be your purpose, however, sometimes they coincide and become one and the same thing. The craft is an important part of what I call the contained practice. You carve time out 2-3 times a week to practice and you develop on it over time, whether you are working or not. It is quite similar to a hobby, but the difference is, it’s to be taken seriously. This means you won’t give up on it when things get hard.

For example, my craft is film photography, but music and writing play a big part of this too. These are the cures from dependency on technology and AI. Writing plays a big part in this, as the world we live in is a mass pit of videos and photographs. We’re constantly consuming images in the society of endless images, not necessarily words. We don’t give ourselves enough time to process or analyse the information readily available to us, or to critically think about the information we consume, so we keep scrolling. This is why mindful consumption is something I try to do more. To take an article, a YouTube video, something with depth, and I write about it. I take notes, I analyse, I ask questions.

This passive approach to living. The constant scrolling and consuming, combined with this eerily uncanny communication and dependency on AI is causing us to live a life where screens are dominated, and our lives have lost their richness. We’ve lost the ability to interact with books, film, art, music, and other people. Our interactions and ideas get placed into a conversation with Claude or OpenAI, so our ideas only live in our overly active imaginations, with no real output.

Photography, and in particular street photography has been a saving grace. Why I take photographs is because I have a deep desire to understand people, to recognise their emotions, read facial expressions and gestures, to understand who they are and why they are. This is my antidote for AI. I tried to find it through photorealistic avatars, through technology. But I see the answer clearly now. Photography allows me to connect with others, be in the real world, and live. For you, the antidote may not be photography. It could be anything. But pick something real, something tactile, something that puts you in a room with other people or forces you to notice them, to interact with them. Because what we’re all actually looking for, what Project Hail Mary proved we’re desperate for, isn’t just a craft. It’s a Rocky. Just make sure yours is real.

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Get your copy of Returning To Photography Workbook - Built from 15+ years of photography, a first class MSc in Cyberpsychology, and the experience of quitting and returning, and finding the way back to photography and to myself. Your love for photography is still there, but you can only return to it by learning about yourself first. The workbook includes 10 original frameworks, 22 exercises, 18 reflection questions, and over 100+ pages. More info on it here.

Media & References:

• Cheng L, Fang G, Zhang X, Lv Y, Liu L (2024), “Impact of social media use on critical thinking ability of university students”. Library Hi Tech, Vol. 42 No. 2 pp. 642–669, doi: https://doi.org/10.1108/LHT-11-2021-0393

• Galindo-Domínguez, H., Bezanilla, M.J. & Campo, L. Relationship between social media use and critical thinking in university students. Educ Inf Technol 30, 6641–6665 (2025). https://doi.org/10.1007/s10639-024-12953-z

• Gerlich M. AI Tools in Society: Impacts on Cognitive Offloading and the Future of Critical Thinking. Societies. 2025; 15(1):6. https://doi.org/10.3390/soc15010006

• Lodge J. M. and Loble L (2026). Artificial intelligence, cognitive offloading and implications for education, University of Technology Sydney, doi:10.71741/4pyxmbnjaq.31302475.

• https://uxdesign.cc/the-deceptive-side-of-robot-cuteness-e893e05f50c7

• Sherry Turkle Ted Talk

• Turkle, S. (2011). Alone together: Why we expect more from technology and less from each other.

• Project Hail Mary, 2026

What makes a photograph valuable? The photographer or the subject?

“People act as though they created their own image, which dismisses the photographers work. What are they actually saying? Because I’m portrayed, I created, or help create the image. That’s totally untrue.”

This was a quote by a photographer Christian Bard from the documentary ‘Off Limits’ by Gilbert Duclos. It’s about street photography and its legal and ethical challenges in Montreal, Canada. The documentary showcases how people at that time were asking for money to have their photographs taken, and in some cases the photographers had to carry around release forms. Set in the early 00’s, it offered a contrast to how people and street photographers take images nowadays, compared to back then. I found it interesting and it made me think about how street photography has now changed in the age of surveillance, and how photography is not what some people would consider as a power game anymore, but a dance and a conversation between the observed and the observer. In the documentary, Christian Bard says “whoever is taking the photograph is what makes the photograph valuable, not the person in it.” This is somewhat true and false in street photography. The observer has a valuable perspective, but I don’t believe it’s all about the photographer. The images we make on the street with the subjects, is a dance. I think we’re poets of the visual world interacting with the people we meet, documenting our lives in real time.

What’s actually changed is the fact we are so aware we’re being photographed all the time. Back in the 00s, if someone had a camera, they would ask the photographer; ‘what are you doing with that image?’ or try to claim ownership, or in some cases take the photographer to court. This doesn’t happen as much these days as people on the street expect to be seen. We are so aware of our own image and how we’re being watched. We’re so aware of how we could end up online or even worse, going viral for something we did. So, we must ask, is street photography different because people are more aware of their own perception? The answer is yes, and it’s because of social media.

The street is a stage and we’re all performers

People expect to be perceived constantly, with or without a camera. This is only a natural thing that we experience as humans. As sociologist Charles Cooley says: “As we see our face, figure, and dress in the glass, and are interested in them because they are ours, and pleased or otherwise with them according as they do or do not answer to what we should like them to be; so in imagination we perceive in another’s mind some thought of our appearance, manners, aims, deeds, character, friends, and so on, and are variously affected by it.” This was in 1902, way before social media. So what is it like now? Our perception of ourselves is enlarged and intertwined with how we view ourselves online compared to in real life. I like to think of the street as being a stage, and we’re all performers, but unfortunately people have become more performative and less real.

I’ve noticed some people still flinch when they see the camera, which is only natural._,But it’s interesting, unless there’s an altercation people usually don’t blink when they see a phone. The phone has become the extension of ourselves, and people don’t usually bat an eye lid. Why? Well, I guess the phones are inconspicuous and less intimidating, they require less of this dance between the observed and the observer. The phone is quick, subtle, less invasive. The camera on the other hand can sometimes have a weight and presence to it. Or camera as armour as I like to call it. We have been conditioned overtime to see that if there’s a camera, we’re instantly going to be ‘papped’ or end up somewhere we don’t want to be without our permission.

The camera is not an invasion of our privacy per se, but an invasion of our self-perception in the world and how we want others to perceive us.

With the cameras, there’s this subconscious belief that we could be put anywhere. But phones are the real issue here, because of their accessibility and our ability to be overly-connected. With the phones, we are simultaneously being watched all the time, but also documenting everything around us. This is an aspect of living in what I call the Society of the endless image. Still and moving. It’s not just through social media, but billboards, ads on every corner, bus stops, images in cafes. We cannot escape it. We’re so accustomed to seeing images everywhere, online and in real life, to the point that there’s so much noise people experience a thing called the mass drift. They lose themselves and their creative vision because they’re so distracted with all the external stimuli that they see. But that’s a conversation for a different day. Because this is a natural place that we’re living in at the moment, the phone is essentially the extension of the self, and we contribute to this by documenting everything we see around us. And because we’re so connected, we subconsciously know that we’re being watched, surveilled, while also partaking in the surveillance.

Self-presentation and the gaze of strangers

In the documentary, Bard says that people don’t create their own image. I find this fascinating because in the age of social media, I think people do create their own image in order to be perceived out in the world. They have a desire to be witnessed, to be seen, especially Millennials and Gen Z. There’s this concept of living your life like you’re the star of the movie. It’s almost a romanticisation of your life, like you’re being watched, or filmed, like the movie stars of the 90s strolling through New York off-duty.

This isn’t inherently bad, but it’s the performance of being on the street. Knowing that you are constantly being perceived in real life and/or watched through the images and videos that are created through the phones in our pocket. It’s this subconscious understanding that your image, in a split-second, could go viral across the internet, under the gaze of millions of strangers. While slightly terrifying, some people take advantage. Making sure that they are out in the real world as the most ‘ideal self’, rather than the authentic version of themselves. Of course, this is natural, we all want to be seen in a certain light.

My thesis in my Cyberpsychology MSc focused on self-presentation in adult TikTok creators. What I found that in comparison to Instagram, is that TikTok is a place where people feel like they can express themselves more authentically. While this research is interesting, I think about it in relation to authenticity in the real world vs. online, and is it the same? The authenticity we portray online is always going to be slightly more performative, because we wear different masks of the self. But the authenticity we encounter on the street, in real life, I believe this might be performative too, because we know ultimately that the self could be shared or witnessed online.

Streets vs. Screens

The argument raises a bigger question, which is: Because of social media, and everyone knowing they could have their selves ‘shared’, is anyone actually authentic anymore? Well, not really. We are all actors in a play, showcasing our performative selves, or the front stage self as Erving Goffman calls it. Impression management is a central aspect of how we interact socially. And I believe that on the streets, this play vividly comes to life. We all co-direct, co-act, co-observe, and co-live. On the screens, we have the illusion of full control of our self-perception. We log onto social media, we direct, we act, and we perform the narrative we would like to share with the world.

Our attempt to control our self-perception is not actually possible in the real world or on social media, because we cannot control how others view us. But, there’s an aspect of what you can maybe hide on social media rather than show.

We see this in Cyberpsychology research when it comes to dating. People hide negative qualities themselves, qualities that they could not hide in real life, like height and weight for example (Toma, C.L., Hancock, J.T., & Ellison, N.B., 2008). When on the street, your image is not just yours to be perceived, it’s everyone’s. You are out in the world not as your ideal self, but as your full self relating with others. Therefore, if you have a certain perception of how you would like to portray yourself online. Let’s say you want to be perceived as more funny, have more humour - but it takes maybe a bit of effort, and it’s not your authentic self. So you try to take this to the real world, there will obviously be some cognitive dissonance. The full self is expressed on the street, in the play, while relating with others, not as a solo entity online. Therefore because we’re in the age of surveillance, the society of the endless image, if your ideal self is expressed online, and there’s even a small bit of cognitive dissonance occurring between the streets and the screens, I can imagine there will be a subconscious fear of getting caught out, for not being who you really are.

Photography And Power

Susan Sontag says “To photograph is to appropriate the thing photographed. It means putting oneself into a certain relation to the world that feels like knowledge-and therefore, like power.” Before the age of social media, before everyone had a phone in their pocket and accessibility to take the image, this statement is very accurate. The photographer would have all the power when it comes to observation and documenting what they see. But, now, because of our ability to view ourselves as third party entities and how we would be portrayed and shared online, that power is redistributed. The power of being photographed and portrayed does not rest in the hands of the photographer anymore, it lies as a tension between the observed and the observer.

What does this mean if we all have cameras now, so easily accessible only a muscle-movement away? We all have the ability to attain that “power”, therefore we are all simultaneously observing and being observed as we constantly document our experiences. Susan Sontag goes on to say: “photographed images do not seem to be statements about the world…but miniatures of reality that anyone can make or acquire.” With that, social media has accelerated that shift we notice. We are technically documenting our own worlds, while being performers and actors in them. The street photographer is now living in a world as almost an anachronism; someone still trying to catch the unguarded moment in the world where it doesn’t even exist anymore, because we’re too connected and too aware.

The Camera is a conduit for deeper connection

In my opinion, these days the camera is the conduit between two people, and the photograph is a conversation more so than a power piece. There is the photographer’s portrayal of the person, and then there’s the subject’s perception of themselves and how they want to be viewed in the world. When the camera is raised to the eye of the photographer, did the observer and the observed have a positive outcome or mutual agreement on their portrayal of the subject? Or was there a disagreement on the outcome, the meeting, where the perception is not an entirely accurate reflection of the perception of themselves.

If I can visualise it, it would almost look like this.

Positive Outcome

= accurate portrayal of subject between observed and observer

Negative Outcome

= inaccurate portrayal of subject between observed and observer

This is deeper than the dance between the observed and observer, this is a fundamental spiritual connection, or a crossing of paths between two souls, I believe. The photographer’s object of desire is in front of them, however, will the subject relate back to the photographer how they want to be seen in the world?

When the photographer raises the camera, there is a spark between the observed and the observer. Whether it be familiarity, desire, relational. The photographer sees something subconsciously about themselves or someone they know in the subject. Or they remember an experience they’ve had, in the other person. Consciously, they might confess that they enjoy the light and shadows, or something else surface level about the scene, but in reality, they see something they’ve experienced in the past, or something they want to experience in the future, in that person. In the observed, in the subject. This is where the connection occurs. This is where the dance begins.

When the observed wants to be met and portrayed in an idealised way, like we discussed earlier, it’s because of their desire for others to see their best side. The ones who are craving to be perceived in a certain way, I don’t believe have full acceptance of who they are, and this relates back to their self-concept. A true understanding of the self in the world, the full spectrum of how the self naturally evolves and expands, the confidence to be you. So when the dance occurs, you meet the match of your perception. The photographer can only meet you as far as you have met yourself. You encounter the observer or the photographer as a mirror. The seer sees you exactly as you see yourself. And when there’s a positive outcome, there is mutual recognition. John O’Donohue in Anam Cara calls this soul friend. Which refers to a Celtic concept of spiritual companionship where mutual recognition allows for unconditional love, deep understanding, and the revealing of one’s true self without masks. So ultimately, in that split second, if there’s mutual recgoniton, the mask gets dropped.

The image when encountered positively as an interaction, is a profound spiritual experience on the street. Two authentic selves merged. Two souls that encounter each other, solidified by a slice of time, bound together forever through the camera and the image. The native Americans say you’re taking someone’s soul when you photograph, but I just think the souls get intertwined. They mesh. They speak. They converse. They leave. Sometimes words are exchanged, sometimes not. The observed often think they are the ‘creator of their image’ according to Christian Bard. Well technically they are the creator of their image, because of their self-perception. However, the photographer can warp the perception of themselves if they do not meet in the middle and agree. (Refer back to diagram for reference).

The waltz between the observed and the observer

There’s something special that within that moment of time the photograph gets taken. The combination of history, culture, and communication between both parties. The photographer greets, observes and lays out everything in front of them. The photographer opens the dance, almost like how a waltz occurs in ballrooms. The observed/subject takes their hand, they dance, and walk away. They share a moment. Something that could never be repeated in those exact circumstances again.

That dance between two people occurs in street photography but with high levels of self-perception. Sometimes I think it’s the reason a lot of photographers subconsciously quit working on the streets. The power has ultimately been taken from the photographer and been redistributed to all of us in society, because we all own the camera now, and we all have the ability to take the image, to invite the subject to the waltz. But because of our hyper-warped self-perception due to social media, the authentic dance exists but it’s more precious and rare. It’s something that doesn’t occur as often, because the majority of us have an idea of how we present ourselves, and this risks our self concept being torn away from us. Our understanding of everything we’ve ever believed about who we are could be ripped to shreds in an instant.

This is why photographing children is one of my favourite subjects, because there’s no performance. There’s pure innocence, authenticity, they are themselves. Unpolluted minds, no concept of being perceived or having a self-concept to attain on social media. They’re not particularly living in the society of the endless image-yet. The last undisturbed dance between the observed and the observer occurs with the subjects who are in the real world, the ones without the social media presence, without this idea of who they should or could be. The ones who are authentic without fear.

Next time you’re out shooting, try to find that waltz with the observed, authentically without performance - once you shoot it, you will know.

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Get your copy of Returning To Photography Workbook - Built from 15+ years of photography, a first class MSc in Cyberpsychology, and the experience of quitting and returning, and finding the way back to photography and to myself. Your love for photography is still there, but you can only return to it by learning about yourself first. The workbook includes 10 original frameworks, 22 exercises, 18 reflection questions, and over 100+ pages. More info on it here.

Media & References:
- Off Limits Documentary, Gilbert Duclose
- Charles Cooley, Human Nature and the Social Order, 1902
- Guest, R (2022). TikTok & the self: The relationship between self-concept clarity and self-presentation in adult TikTok creators.
- Toma, C.L., Hancock, J.T., & Ellison, N.B. (2008). Separating fact from fiction: An examination of deceptive self-presentation in online dating profiles. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 34, 1023–1036.
- Erving Goffman, The Presentation Of Self In Everyday Life, 1956
- Susan Sontag, On Photography, 1977
- John O'Donohue, Anam Cara, 1996

Alongside this, I had accumulated so much gear I wasn’t using. I’d get excited about projects and not follow through. I just couldn’t see my own vision anymore, or maybe I just stopped trusting it. If I’m really honest with myself, there were times I just wanted to give it up entirely. The camera didn’t feel the same as it used to- I couldn’t find my style, and was distracted. I forgot why I picked up the camera in the first place. Yeah of course, the work I was making might have looked good, but were those photographs an accurate reflection of anything true about me, and my life? Or was I just making images to fit into something, to belong to some idea of what a photographer is supposed to look like?

So around 18 months ago, I started journalling - alot. About my interests, my hobbies, my relationships, my life. And then relating it to photography. About why I loved it, how I see it in relation to our modern world, and how it shapes the way we make sense of life. And if I’m truly honest I wasn’t looking for answers, I was just trying to hear myself again through all the noise. I started to see what actually mattered to me. What the recurring patterns were and what was just a distraction. I started seeing what I wanted in life, not just in my photos. I noticed patterns, objects, and moments that kept appearing. Journaling helped me to start understanding what my life actually was and how to make sense of it. This was a significant turning point for me. I slowly started to understand that the problem wasn’t my camera, or my eye, or my lack of access to interesting subjects. The real problem was that I had drifted so far from myself that the work was showing it.

So I sold everything. Seven cameras. Years of digital gear. And I bought one camera. A 1983 Leica M4-P from eBay. No battery. No light meter. No backup. One lens. One film stock. I wanted to learn how to see again, but this time through my own eyes. Trying to describe the effect this had on me is hard. But what I can say is that doing this forced me to slow down. I didn’t just shoot for anyone else’s expectations anymore, I started shooting for me. And for me only.

But the camera wasn’t really the point and I think people miss that. The camera could have been a guitar, it could have been a shovel for gardening. The camera was the craft and the tool I chose to find me again. It wasn’t about me picking up a new (or rediscovered hobby) what I was really doing was choosing to stop drifting. I wasn’t just returning to photography but I was returning home to myself.

When I was journaling I started creating exercises for myself to learn about my practice again. One of them stood out to me, it’s called The Archive Audit. I went through every photograph I’d ever taken. Not to judge them but to notice what kept coming back. The subjects I was drawn to, the light I always reached for. The moments I chose over other moments. And really, I started to see that my work was a mirror. It had always been telling me something about myself I wasn’t even conscious of. And once I saw that pattern I couldn’t unsee it.

Here’s what I’ve come to believe, and I’ve thought about this a lot. I think every single person has a spark of creativity within them. And every single person should dedicate themselves to one thing in their life, their craft. Creativity is how we build cities, how we move forward as a society, how we interact, how we have come as far as we have. Craft is the art of dedicating yourself to that one vision and building it with your tools to become a master (whatever mastery means to you.) Some people will read this and think, yeah but i’m not creative. The question is never whether you’re creative, because you are, it’s whether you’re tapping into it.

I’ve had multiple hobbies throughout my life. Photography and drumming being the two I always return to. But I think when creative people have too many outlets we can get lost, distracted, especially if you’re neurodivergent. The creative energy gets scattered across too many things and ends up serving none of them. And I think when people lose the thread of that craft, they lose a part of themselves. They pour their creative energy into relationships, into things that don’t give them energy back, into scrolling and consuming instead of making and expressing. That’s exactly what happened to me.

We’ve been doing this since we were children. A two year old with crayons doesn’t think about whether their drawing is good, they’re just making something because they love it. And that instinct doesn’t just disappear. I don’t care if you say you’re not creative, or if you work as a lawyer and have never picked up a pencil in your life. You are creative, it has just been buried under everything you’ve experienced in life. And I think it’s time to find that spark again.

For me, the craft that I always come back to is photography. For others it’s woodwork, painting, piano, cooking, or gardening. It actually doesn’t matter what it is, but what’s important is that it’s tactile and real. That it exists outside a screen. Because what I think people are missing most right now isn’t more content to consume, it’s the experience of making something with their hands. They are missing being fully present in the process of having to create something from scratch. To have spent their time with a finished product, or something to show that’s tangible - not just an Instagram reel or saved post. We are living in the Society of the Endless Image. We are consuming more of other people’s images than any generation in history and making fewer of our own. We spend hours watching other people’s lives instead of living our own and that’s sad. And if I’m honest, I think that’s why so many photographers have lost their way. It’s not because they stopped loving photography, but because they got so saturated and influenced with other people’s images that they lost their own voice.

There’s also something I think about a lot in relation to craft and purpose. I don’t think they’re the same thing. Your craft does not equate to your worth, and it isn’t defined by what I make. I believe my purpose is to simply live. My craft is photography. I’ve dedicated years to it, returned to it repeatedly, and I’ve let it shape how I move through the world. And yes, I’d love to become a master. But that doesn’t mean technical perfection or recognition or getting the perfect shot. Mastery for me is about the process, and depth over breadth. I care less about technical complexity than about how the story could be or should be told.

What I’ve come to believe is that you can only return to the craft by learning about yourself first. Not from a course, not from a thirty day challenge, and definitely not from anyone telling you what to shoot. It only happens when you slow down enough to hear yourself again.

So I built this workbook to help other photographers. To help them remember why they love photography, to help them remember their style, to bring them back to themselves.

Here’s what one photographer said about it:

“My DSLR was collecting dust for about 4 years, and this workbook genuinely brought me back to it in such a refreshing way. It was a great investment as it genuinely shifted how I see my own creativity through practical, thoughtful frameworks which provided me with me a good few ‘ah-ha’ moments. I’m now shooting regularly, and don’t experience those blocks as often.”

Built from 15+ years of photography, a first class MSc in Cyberpsychology, and the experience of losing this craft completely, and finding the way back to photography and to myself. I genuinely believe your love for photography is still there, but you can only return to it by learning about yourself first. You just need the right conditions. More info on it here.

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But honestly, I’m here for it. And I hope it stays. At the same time however, I’m skeptical of this trend and why it’s being pushed. Of course, these companies have their own agendas ($$$), but I think it can negatively influence artists’ work if they’re not careful. Trends can influence people’s styles to the point where their voice is not their own and their style eventually no longer has longevity or a through point. Personally, I’ve tried to avoid trends because I know they don’t last (that’s just for me anyway). I believe that a person that follows a trend is a person that has drifted from themselves. But it’s everyone, not just you. I call this the Mass Drift - where people get so distracted by media consumption that they lose sight of their own voice, their own automatic nature. Life happens and we get distracted, we miss the self we were born to be, the self-expression, the creativity, the craft we love but don’t do. But the Mass Drift shouldn’t affect our photography, and if I’m honest, I think these trends just distract people from what they actually want to photograph. And it distracts them from how to see their own vision clearly.

I want to de-influence you here. There’s nothing wrong with your old DSLR and 50mm lens. You don’t need any more gear! Your photos are still good regardless. Yes I can hear some of you say, “ didn’t you sell all your old gear to buy a Leica?” Yeah, I did! I sold all my digital gear because I wanted to learn how to see again. But through film this time. I shot film years ago in university, and used to dabble in my twenties, but I never took it seriously. So last year I sold all my digital gear and bought a 1980s Leica with no battery and no light meter. For me, I wanted a challenge of shooting with no automatic settings or lightmeter, and I wanted my photos to reflect how I actually feel. And film does that for me.

Why film is the winner for me these days

Film is incredible. There are so many advantages to shooting it. Old vintage lenses and cameras. The simplicity of no overwhelming digital settings. The negative is what has a hold on me. The actual act of the light hitting a piece of film in your camera long enough to capture what’s in front of you. That’s pure magic. Once that negative is processed and developed. It’s archived. Something that is separate completely from all digital forms, from screens. Being able to have something completely tangible away from a screen. Only having a certain amount of frames to tell the story too, that requires discipline, creativity, thought.

Of course, the cons of film are so obvious I probably do not need to get into them. It’s very expensive to shoot film and process. And if you don’t have the skills to get a good shot. You will be wasting money. That’s about the only negative thing about it - pardon the pun.

Digital vs film

Digital has its purpose, it’s not like I hate it. I still own a Fuji X30 camera which I use when I’m out and about. I think digital has different and multiple types of aesthetics which leans into the modern world of experimentation. I find with digital, it’s so much easier to get the shot that I truly want, because I can look back at the photographs straight away and change how I’m shooting. This actually disrupts my flow quite a bit, I then overthink and I find that the creative essence I was searching for gets lost very quickly. Whereas when I’m shooting film, I shoot, I don’t think - and I leave it up to the Film Gods to see if it has come out or not. It’s alot more impulsive, alot more expensive, but alot more fun. On digital, yes I can shoot much more shots and only have to worry about battery and the 64GB card filling up. I can get into flow when shooting digitally, if the camera is on auto and I just go without thinking. But it kind of defeats the purpose of learning and mastering a craft I think. When it becomes too easy, and I know out of the 100’s of digital shots I get, there will be 1 winner, it feels like the challenge has been lost. I think it changes photography from being a discipline and a craft, and it becomes a bother. Am I really a talented photographer if I have to take 100 shots to get 1 right? For me, with digital, there is almost no challenge left. I like both genuinely, but right now film is how I see the world. Through discipline, practice and the use of the manual rangefinder and the negative. The thought of having my files stored digitally somewhere in the cloud doesn’t feel real or tangible to me. In my opinion, there’s a time and a place for both methods and I think it’s about understanding what method is suited for which.

Neither of them are worse or better than the other. They’re both different crafts, different skills to learn. While the basics of photography can be learned on both, I think the actual method of shooting is different. Restricting your use on digital makes it feel like film, but it’s not, and you know you can shoot more than 36 frames if you wish. Post-processing is the biggest difference, and there’s an art form to both of them. The dark room and the lightroom.

Developing your style and learning how to see

There’s one underlying factor between digital vs film debate which throws the 2026 analog trend in the bin. And it’s learning how to actually see. Forget about the method or the craft of photography. How do you use your eyes everyday? What do you take notice of? That’s Stage one of what I call the Three Stages of Seeing, ‘ The Art Of Noticing’. Your tool is only as good as your eye. And I find once you can master your way of seeing, you can move to Step two which is ‘the Mental Frame’. This is understanding your camera so well, that you know exactly what composition and exposure to use in almost any scenario. It’s about reading light without the camera, and practicing doing this fast on your camera. When you move into the third stage of seeing; ‘Camera As An Extension of The Self’, it doesn’t matter what camera or lens you have. The camera becomes an additional limb to you, it’s natural. The time it takes between noticing and shooting is less than a split second. I think not many people reach stage three, but they can also ebb and flow between all of them.

So it’s really not about what camera is better, digital or film… but it’s about using what’s in front of you to learn how to see well. Because focusing on the trends won’t make you a better photographer. Developing your style and your voice and vision over time will.

Digital vs. film, is not actually the enemy here, AI is.

Your real concern with finding your style shouldn’t be about digital vs. film, it should be about being able to differentiate or find your voice when 100’s images are being generated by AI as we speak. And we are consuming a lot of them, and really it’s only going to get worse. The AI slop bubble is real, and the media that we’re consuming on social media is becoming more and more inauthentic, regurgitated, and AI -generated. Yes, I’m talking about writing and photography here. In my opinion human creativity has essence and a soul, it’s something that sits within everyone. We’ve been tapped into it since we were born, felt it stronger when we were children, but a lot of people lose it over time. This authentic voice and nature, expressing themselves fully in who they are. The big problem with AI, is that we’re witnessing garbage being shown to us which is presented as art. But it’s really all the same. This is part of the Society of the Endless Image and contributes to the Mass Drift. The more AI images we’re influenced by, the less of our own creativity we can tap into. And if we can’t tap into that, we lose our style. So really, who cares about digital vs film? Who cares if your camera is 20$ or 1200$. It’s whatever method allows you to express yourself fully. Stop following the trends, stop watching AI slop, and just sit and be with yourself. From here your style will emerge naturally, your creativity will flourish, you will pick up whatever camera you have and you will create.

Download the FREE guide: “10 Questions To Help You Return to Photography” to help you reconnect with your photography practice

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I left with a lot still turning over in my mind. So I wrote it up here, and pulled it through the lens of photography, because for anyone who makes images. Hope you enjoy.

Digital memory is an interesting term. Is it really a memory when the record we cherish, whether it be a photograph of a loved one who has passed, or a series of messages, is just bits and fragments of code embedded into a cloud somewhere in the ether? This is not tangible material, not something we can hold in our hands. Everything is adapted and shown on a black mirror with easy accessibility in our pockets. Well, unless we decide to print these out or keep a physical record. What about your great grandfather’s scratched-up vinyls from the 50s, which hold character, memory, identity? Or a graduation photobook of all your old friends, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, smiling ear to ear, all before adult life hit hard. Our memories live in the mind, but they resonate more deeply, surface more fully, through physical objects. Not through a black mirror.

For photographers, this contradiction is particularly sharp. We are producing more images than any generation before us, and yet potentially leaving less behind. A thousand digital files sitting on a hard drive nobody can find versus twelve prints discovered in a box under a bed thirty years from now, one is data, the other is a family treasure. The negative has a body, a physical presence, and weight. While JPEG and RAW files do not. There is something worth sitting with in the fact that the most image-saturated era in human history may also be its most forgettable. We are documenting everything and archiving almost nothing, as Google Cloud and iCloud, while handy, do not count as tangible archives.

This is the Society of the Endless Image. We are so consumed with imagery that our unique voice quietly fades and gets lost, not through any single influence, but through volume of consumption. Social media fills your mind with thoughts that aren’t your own, images and ideas that aren’t your own, until you can no longer hear yourself clearly. I find that when I come off social media or take a break, my vision becomes clearer, I’m more present, I notice more. The cruel irony is that we have more photographs than ever, and less to say with them.

I don’t believe digital memory truly serves us, if not only to record and store information. And yet, we treat it as though it does.

So then the question becomes: should we have the right to delete our digital past? The internet’s history should be treated as what it is; an archive, a modern-day Library of Alexandria, a record of everything that has happened. And while people must be accountable for their actions, the internet has a tendency to weaponise history rather than learn from it. Justin Trudeau’s university photographs are a clear example. Was he to blame, or was he a product of his environment and culture at the time? That moment has followed and defined his reputation in ways that say more about how we use digital memory than about the man himself. We reach into the archive not to understand, but to judge. And at what point does this archive become a trap for us?

We’re living in a world so vastly connected that everything uploaded becomes, in one sense, a public record. Social media, for artists and creatives especially, is meant to function as a diary, and a way to connect, to share. And while the idealised self is what people want to portray, what actually generates connection is the ability to let people in. But how much is too much? And more importantly, do we even own the data we put onto these servers? Well, we don’t, that’s quite obvious. Companies own the infrastructure of these platforms and clouds where we share our lives, making them keepers of our self-expression. Our diary entries and inner lives have oversight by worldly watchmen.

Which brings me back to the question of existence itself. If this material is just data stored in a cloud, if it has no physical form, no body, no weight, does it truly exist? And if it does not exist in any tangible sense, shouldn’t we have the right to erase it?

And then we must ask: what happens when we die? Who controls that data? Who decides what remains, what disappears, what gets repurposed? These are not hypothetical questions. They are questions we have not yet answered, and the longer we wait, the more of ourselves we hand over to the watchmen, without ever being asked.

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I’ve been thinking about why that is and something that came to me is the idea of photography and playing the drums. I’ve been playing drums since I was in my early teens. And there are a few other photographers and videographers I know who also play drums, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that our brains are wired this way. Photographers and drummers have that similar thing — let’s stay in the background, let’s keep the pulse, the timing of the music, but also let’s keep the pulse of the environment. Let’s notice it and document it as we go. It’s the same instinct. Stay back. Watch. Don’t make yourself the thing that’s seen.

The camera as armour and the desire to be seen

The camera acts as armour in social settings. It can act as a barrier between the observer and the observed. We are so present in the moment when we are taking photographs, but are we actually truly living if we are just hiding behind the camera? It’s something I battle with often. The camera does make me present, but at the same time, I am looking at life from an outside perspective. And I think that gap is probably worth paying attention to.

For me, I think it comes back to this desire to be seen. I believe a lot of photographers actually have a secret desire to be in front of the camera, not behind it. A desire to actually be fully seen, as they are.

Maybe there’s something that happened in my life that subconsciously pushed me to take a step back, so I opted to learn the drums, to take the photographs, to put others in the spotlight, but never myself.

What’s very interesting is that the more I do these YouTube videos and put myself out there in front of the camera, the more I realise I don’t have that frustration or agitation, that desire to get the perfect image every single time. It allows me to be more present with my photography and to take photos of what I notice. With no pressure.

Putting yourself in front of the camera, it turns out, changes what happens behind it.

From the outside looking in, to the inside looking out

This whole concept of always being on the outside looking in makes me wonder, when does it start to feel like we are on the inside looking out? Maybe that’s a goal worth working toward as photographers. To experience the moment without the camera first, and then let the camera become a second choice, an extension of the self.

I was with someone for coffee and in the middle of our conversation I looked out the window and there was a man with a seagull on his head. For a split second I thought, should I get my camera? But I wasn’t going to be rude and interrupt the conversation. So I just noticed it, and commented on it after.

That’s the constant dance and struggle that we can all resonate with…when do you use the camera and when do you live in the moment?

This goes back to the first stage of the three stages of seeing — just noticing. (Three stages of seeing are: The Art of Noticing, the Mental Frame, and Camera As An Extension Of The Self) It’s about noticing what’s around you without reaching for the camera. Because for me anyway, it’s important to learn that we are valuable as people without our cameras. We are worthy to be in a situation without having to document it.

Allow yourself to be seen

You don’t always have to be the observer on the other side of the camera. Allow yourself to live life, to be fully visible and fully seen.

Because once you do that, I think you will heal not just your relationship with yourself and whatever visibility wounds look like for you. Not only this, but it will also make your photography better. There won’t be as much friction. Not as much of that frustration to get the perfect shot.

I don’t really experience as much agitation or frustration about making the right image anymore. It doesn’t bother me, because I’m doing it for the love and the process of it. I’d rather live in the moment and have the camera as an extension of the self, rather than the camera being the primary reason I’m there in the first place.

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I think it’s really interesting how a lot of photographers don’t realise this, but the reason we take photographs is to ultimately escape death. To cope with our existence, our mortality, and how we’re ultimately going to die. This is something I’ve thought about for a very long time since I started taking photographs.

I just finished watching a documentary about Sally Mann. She was doing this big exhibition about death, photographs of her husband who has a disease, the bones of her dog that died, and these bodies being mummified out in the open at some kind of anthropology research center. It was a bit disturbing. I’m really not into horror movies or anything like that, but watching her walk through this field of dead bodies—some recently dead, some just skeletal remains—there was something comforting about it. It didn’t seem scary at all. The way she approached death was so calming and grounded. It really made me think about how I’ve perceived death in my life and how I’ve used photography as a tool to deal with the lack of control and the finality of death itself.

When I was 11, there was this child in my school—the little brother of a guy in my class. He died of leukemia. I think he was maybe five or six. For some reason, this completely affected me and I got this obsession with death. I was definitely an anxious child with other things going on, but I think this was what pushed me to take photographs. I started when I was around 13, then properly when I was 15 or 16. What happened with that kid was that I realised at such a young age that death isn’t just your grandparents passing away. Death can happen to anyone at any point. And there’s something quite scary about that. For me, it wasn’t about the fear of death necessarily. There was definitely the existential stuff: where do we go? What happens after death? But there was also this concept: what if you don’t live? What if you don’t live the life you actually want to live and you die and you regret it? We hear these stories of people who die and regret their lives or regret not doing something they wanted to do. Personally, I leaned on photography as a therapeutic outlet to help me combat this idea of mortality and the finality that we’ll all experience.

As people, as photographers, we have this obsession with ourselves—who we are, how we live in the world, what we believe in. We’re so egotistical, so caught up in this idealised sense of worship of the self that we think we must be special in some way. We must be different, even though none of us are. I guess we are all unique in our own way. But as photographers, we think we’re special enough that we can actually capture that. And I genuinely think it’s because people don’t want to die. They don’t want to be forgotten about. They don’t want to be another one of the billions of people that have come before us and will come after us.

Because really, our existence means nothing in the grand scheme of things.

As photographers, there’s a lot we can learn. Absolutely, go out and take photographs of what you love and what you care about, that’s so important. But I also think it’s really important to understand the why. What are we actually documenting?

For me, I’m documenting people, because I love people. And the more I can understand people, the more I can understand myself. But it also gives me a sense of relief. It gives me relief that when I do die, or when others I love die, the photographs will be there. When we die, isn’t it wonderful that you have these memories to look back on? They’re not really memories if you’re dead, but they are images of history, of your time, of your story. And while we mean nothing in the grand scheme of things—it’s wonderful to be able to experience this life. To experience how you see the world through your vision, through your camera, and then be able to share it with others. I think there’s something very, very special about that.

Maybe you’ll lose all your negatives in a fire. Maybe you won’t have kids, and your great-great-grandniece or nephew will find them in a box and be like, “These are shite, I’m throwing them out.” Who cares? No one’s going to remember you anyway two or three generations from now.

Understand the why of your photography. Understand that while it means nothing, and we mean nothing in the grand scheme of things, understand why you do it. Why it’s important for you at this time in your life. And just enjoy it.

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How do we differentiate ourselves and our photographic style in a noisy world? How do we stand out or present what feels like us? Firstly, I think less is more regarding external stimuli and technology. From my experience, it has hindered my flow and is very distracting. When I step back from social media, use it as a tool to create rather than consume, it frees my mind to generate ideas, and with apps blocked on my phone, I seem to execute faster. There’s less time between idea and execution, that’s where the magic lies. This is why I returned to analogue photography; it feels like a move away from distraction and into pure expression. No technological interference. Just creativity and flow.

I genuinely feel social media is a big problem in society today. It’s great for connection and catching up with friends, but I find it distracting - not just with photography, but with life. If I scroll in the mornings, I set up my day badly. My mind fills with other thoughts that aren’t my own. If the thoughts aren’t my own, my ideas aren’t my own. We’re influenced by so much, but I’d rather be influenced by the real world. By people on the street, by nature. Real experiences - not curated ones for validation through social media. It really makes me wonder, if it didn’t exist, what kind of photography would we create?

Finding your style is about understanding your core self, the good and bad. What do you like, don’t like, and how do you react to different circumstances? I love aesthetically pleasing things in real life and admire other people’s style. In this current era, everyone looks and dresses similarly, and places are becoming indistinguishable. We’re lacking individual heritage and culture from historical identities. The essence of what makes us unique. So, when I see someone with great style, it brings me joy. Someone who’s willing to be themselves in a world of ‘sameness’. While I sound self-absorbed and individualistic, I am not. I believe individual self-expression, expressed safely in a community, is the best part of the human experience.

Your photography style doesn’t come from Instagram; it comes from self-discovery. An in-depth understanding of who you are and how you move through the world. Alongside this, having taste is not just about discovery, but practice, lived experience, and exploration of places and your inner landscape.

For me, analogue gives me joy - why? Because I know technology isn’t good for me. I like mechanical things, I always have. I like vintage pieces and old cars. I love history and what shapes us and objects over time. The fact that this camera I own has had 1-2 homes (maybe more) fascinates me. What has it seen? What has it explored? What stories does it have? It feels pleasurable to use it. Has it witnessed family events, protests, or did it sit in a box for 10 years? The fact I only want to use the one camera is part of my style too. Keeping it minimal. Easy. No fuss. From inspiration to action almost instantly. That’s part of my style, my taste which flows effortlessly into my work.

Because as you can see, some of my photos are out of focus and not perfect. That’s a representation of who I am and how I move in the world. There’s no fuss with me, but I act fast (maybe too fast). I love movement. You can see the dust, the hair. It’s a representation of who I am. I’m put together, composed, like a well-composed photo. But if you look closer, there are edges to me. Flaws. I’m not perfect. This is why my photography is the accurate representation of myself and my place in the world.

Why black and white? Firstly, I love B+W for its historical element. I’m nostalgic for a simpler, less connected time with fewer choices. Of course, those times had significant societal issues for many women and people of colour. Yet, I’m nostalgic for a time when life was less connected. We didn’t have to travel the world unless you really wanted to. You weren’t bombarded with countless stories of people living many lives making you think you should be living theirs. You could have one career or life. You could disappear. You could live in one city without the pressure to be someone else. I know back then, there was huge societal pressure on women and in Ireland, if you got pregnant outside of marriage you were thrown into the laundries. So I’m not nostalgic for that time, but rather I’m craving less choice, less noise. Black and white photography represents that for me. With colour, I love it and sometimes shoot it, but it can distract the viewer from the image’s narrative. Black and white seems to convey more emotion and story, for me. It cuts straight to the essence of the image, and I feel like that’s a representation of my style. I love seeing people in action. I love expression, movement, and connection. Because I feel that photography is a direct representation of my ability to understand and read others. To gain insight into their psyche. Because if I can understand them, I feel like I can try understand myself too.

So, how can one find their style? There are more tips in one of my videos on previous video on “how to create original photos in a world full of trends” but here are a few additional points.

• Figure out what you love or don’t love. Your taste is your compass, notice what you keep returning to and avoid. Both are clues.

• Spend time away from technology and reconnect with yourself. Less noise, more you. Even 24 hours off socials helps me move from idea to action faster.

• Journal: Take a pen and paper and write about why you take photos. The 10 questions PDF is a good starting point if you would like some prompts (it’s free). This will give you insight about your motivations. Journal regularly to discover new insights about yourself.

• Experiment. Try different methods, not just photography. Maybe photography is not your craft, maybe it’s painting or knitting. If you don’t experiment, you’ll never know.

• Sit with your current photos and portfolio. Notice who, what, and where you’re taking photos - and ask yourself, if you were to die tomorrow, do you think these photographs accurately reflect you, your internal and external world, your life? Because style doesn’t come from your Instagram feed, it comes from following your inner compass, doing self-discovery and sharing it with the world.

That’s how I decided to buy my Leica and pursue my passion for photography. I could finally see clearly what is for me and what is not. It has given me the space to truly understand my nature and worldview and allowed me to become more intuitive, grounded, creative, and in flow. Meditation helped me gain the confidence to start making YouTube videos, which I never thought I could do semi-full time. It caused a ripple effect in my life and changed it for the better. More importantly, it changed how I relate to photography. Here’s what I learned…

Discipline

Doing anything for a long time helps build other areas of your life. The discipline I learned in meditation and the act of showing up every day expanded into other aspects of my life. With photography, it means being disciplined and showing up with my camera, regardless of how I feel.

Showing up for myself

The biggest factor has been accepting myself and showing up authentically, regardless of my mood. This helps me showcase my photography and speak my truth. The same goes for YouTube. Meditation creates space for self-acceptance, giving the confidence to pursue what you desire in life.

Less is more

Meditation feels like cleaning out the garbage of your mind and less becomes more. This is the same with photography and ‘The Contained Practice’. For example, shooting with one body, one lens, one film stock, using time constraints. I learned I get more satisfaction with less. It feels clear, like my mind, allowing me to appreciate what I do have.

Outlook on life

My perspective on life has shifted. Despite similar or worse external circumstances, I’m more grateful for small things and try not to let external noise affect me. This is shown through my photography. I now look for more magical, positive moments. There’s less fear in life, and therefore less fear when I’m shooting. This energy rubs off on others.

Achieving Goals

Achieving 1 year of meditation feels great, an amazing accomplishment. Striving for external goals is a healthy part of being human. I’ve applied this skill to photography and creating YouTube videos.

Patience

I’m one of the most impatient people I’ve met. So, meditation and a better outlook on life have helped me be more patient. This assists with street photography, the act of seeing, processing, developing, and more.

Not taking life seriously and embracing risks

One of the biggest realisations is that your thoughts don’t define you; you’re just an observer, like the photographer. Because of this, I try not to take life (or my thoughts) too seriously and take more risks to do what makes me happy: having a nice camera, working on photography and storytelling, and putting myself out there.

I never thought that sitting with my thoughts for 10 minutes a day would bring me here. I never thought that meditation would enhance my photography and life, but it did and continues to. Photography is an expanded meditation experience in everyday life - a form of walking, seeing, and being present to life unfolding around you.

This is a question I battle with, as photography is the primary medium as content input (alongside video) in this day and age. A fraction or a slice of time is only a split second in a moment that the photographer chooses to capture the image. But what about the second before, the second after? Why was that moment selected? And is it an accurate representation of the truth?

The book I’m reading, ‘Amusing Ourselves To Death’ by Neil Postman, discusses how TV has changed society for the worse. In the book, he suggests that we are a society that ‘thinks in images, not words’. Even though Neil Postman wrote this in 1985, this idea still holds prominence today. I believe that we are a society that now sees images, but cannot know the full context. Because of our dependence on imagery. This is only getting worse with short attention spans because of social media and the overload of information. AI is now going to make this ten times worse, with mass-manipulated images. There is no truth in these images, with almost no arguments to support a debate promising it. If we look at traditional image-making, through cameras, both film and digital, were we ever telling the truth in the first place? Or is it just perspective?

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words, but what exact words are they? In photography, we don’t always have the context to accompany the image. And because of that, I believe that photographers have an innate duty or a responsibility to communicate the truth in their work, as best as they possibly can. This truth is political accuracy, documentation of social realities, and emotional honesty. The camera is a tool of great power, and with that power comes great responsibility. Everything that we photograph, from the old man on the street to the group of friends at a party, we should stop and ask ourselves - is this the full truth? Is it an accurate representation of the story unfolding in front of us? I don’t believe it ever is, because the truth is ultimately subjective. In every situation in life, with or without photography, there is always going to be two sides to a story, and then the factual objective truth. Because we as humans seem to put meaning onto everything, which creates our own truth, based on our beliefs, identity and biases. The same is true with the photographs we take and the images we observe in magazines, TV and social media. This is why writing and the use of language are a vital partner to use alongside photography. While photography is a medium in itself, it should be accompanied by text to give context. Because the images we take without any written form are really only a reflection of ourselves, a mirror to our internal being and our own truth, and how we see the world. And when people observe our images, they place their own meaning onto the work. This is why documentary photography and photojournalism are so important for archiving history. It’s supposed to be an accurate representation of the story unfolding in front of us, but is it really ever the full truth?

A case for photography as truth or as storytelling can also be seen with the latest images of the White House released by Vanity Fair magazine. While it is photojournalism, these photographs are pure storytelling to a degree. The photographs taken by Christopher Anderson tell the story of the staff of The White House in 2025. But are these photographs factual? Are they telling he truth? Well, yes and no. Let me explain. There is a cohort (let’s name them Group A) of people who will agree that these photographs are an accurate representation of the current US Administration; close-up, grotesque, overdone. Because Group A do not agree with the current administration and their political leanings. So, technically, this group believe that the photograph is their truth, is an accurate representation of history. Then there is Group B, a cohort of individuals who agree with the US government and their political ideologies and policies. Group B may look at these photographs and think they are slander, unfaithful, untruthful, and perhaps showcase the current administration in a bad light.

But really, the photographs taken by Christopher Anderson, the magazine Vanity Fair, the editor, the creative director: we saw their belief and their truth. In an interview about his photographs, he said: “I am there as a journalist in my own right, as sort of the eyes of the public, to go in and observe and see what I see. I’m trying to do that in a way that’s as observational as I can. I feel like my job is to offer the viewer the point of view of what I experienced in that moment. I feel like I’m a professional noticer. And I go in to observe and be the eyes for the public in that sense. My job is not to decorate a magazine, it’s to show the viewers what the experience was.” From the interview, we cannot tell if Christopher is for or against the government, but we can see that he stood by what he noticed as his objective truth in the moment, with the photographs he took. Everyone else’s opinion in Groups A and B is just the meaning that they put onto it themselves. But are Christopher Anderson’s photography skills suitable for how the US government should be portrayed? Yes, he is fully accredited and has worked with many publications. He’s highly qualified for the job. But underneath his objective truth, there is a bias leaning left or right, for or against. Whatever that might be. And this is the important role that photography plays in the media and society. Because what you see or what you notice, what you take photographs of, is not going to be everyone’s truth. It’s always going to be storytelling and truth from the observer’s perspective, and meaning is just put onto it from everyone else’s point.

The bending of the truth in imagery is nothing new. We have seen this in the fashion industry for years, through airbrushing, photoshopping, etc., glamorising skinny culture, flawless skin and perfect blowouts. Yes, this is dangerous in terms of beauty standards, but it’s somewhat expected to happen. We’re accustomed to it. In the fashion industry, there is an expectation of creativity, of theatrics, of storytelling for others to be influenced. For people to purchase and consume. For years we’ve been moulded to expect it, like the way we’ve been moulded to expect that photojournalism and photography in the media should be factually correct. However, photojournalism and photography in the media and news have no real place for creativity in the sense of fabrication or manipulating reality. Photojournalism requires creativity in composing, choosing the right moment and an angle that conveys meaning. The truth, being fed to the public, should be documented accurately; otherwise, it is just propaganda. The case of the photographs in The White House is propaganda against The White House, as they are staged, edited in such a way that they lean towards a certain narrative. Which, in my opinion, may not be real journalism.

Another form of bending the truth and propaganda is the sharing of the latest Epstein files and images. We, the public, have no knowledge of what was happening in these photographs. We only get a slice of time out of the whole story. Of course, we have accounts from victims, and know what happened, but will we ever know the full truth? I highly doubt it. Now, I am not claiming to side with Epstein and his elite comrades, but I am curious to understand why the media decided to showcase only a handful of images or emails. It’s information with an agenda. Let’s take, for example, the photograph released of Bill Clinton, Michael Jackson, Diana Ross and 3 black squares representing children’s faces. This photograph is a lie without any context. As this photograph is actually the three adults with Diana Ross’s and Michael Jackson’s kids, a Getty image taken by Jonathan Exley. When more images were released in December 2025, this photograph spread widely as being a part of the Epstein files, when that is just misinformation. The problem we see with this relates back to my point at the beginning of this article, reader. People absorb the media and content they see through images and images only, without context, and call what they see the truth. There is no question, consideration or critical thought. The media engages in this by stripping the photos of basic context (who, when, why) to sensationalise the story and confirm a pre-existing moral narrative. The media saw another opportunity to slander Michael Jackson and push another lie - to control the masses and the narrative.

The media uses photography and visuals as a medium of control in the world. To keep certain narratives fed. And because of this, they expect people to stay quiet by feeding them photographs and visual narratives that don’t allow for critical thinking. What we see visually in the media has more impact on us and our beliefs about the world. We see this more and more with certain groups that get fed right and left-wing political ideologies and fall into a rabbit hole of information, with no consumption of content from the alternative. This is why, as photographers and image-makers, it’s important to create and make photographs that are not just representative of your truth, but a representation of history that is accurate, because time and time again, we see that history can be rewritten because of how certain powerful people and media want to push their agenda and own version of events. We will never be able to capture the full truth, but we have a responsibility to try.

This time of year is magical for some. People from around the globe come home to celebrate. It’s the gathering of dinners and seeing people you haven’t seen in so long. For me, it doesn’t really feel the same anymore. It’s quieter, in a strange way. People are getting older; some aren’t here at all. Others live on the other side of the world. The change is subtle, but it adds up. And this is where the power of imagery becomes important.

Photography plays a massive role this season and has done so for a long time. The documentation of loved ones is important. Because life moves on, and these moments fade into memories. Since cameras became widely accessible to families in the 1950s, we see family photos of people at Christmas time. Think of roaring fireplaces, falling snow, Coca-Cola ads, Santa, and his Kellogg’s Cornflakes (nostalgia!) People opening gifts, children smiling. This is nothing new. But I wonder if people truly see the value in documenting these events in their lives. I’m not talking about posed photos with matching pyjamas in front of the fireplace, but real documentation. Think of a quiet moment: a grandparent’s understanding smile, the mess of wrapping paper, or a burst of laughter mid-sentence between friends. Capturing moments that are slices of time we won’t get back. Because being able to see the value of people in my family, generations young and old, and having the ability to capture the passing of time—it’s just pure magic.

There’s a photo I have where I didn’t think much of it at the time. Nothing special was happening. Last Christmas, I took a photo of Isaac with my parents. Thinking about them being very old one day and him being my age, I know that photo will mean a lot to him. And to them. I also think of my 89-year-old grandad, and the fact that he’s even in the same room as my 4-year-old nephew baffles me. They will experience completely different lives in different societies, yet here they are simultaneously in the same room. That experience won’t happen again.

Witnessing time passing and looking at photos and videos over the years makes me nostalgic, but also grounded in the fact that as the years go by, I’m getting older too. Documentation is a great way to capture that, for when I’m older, to view my memories through imagery. I recommend, reader, that you do the same. When your loved ones are long gone, you’ll have a record of them to keep. An essence of their soul.

Not everyone has a great Christmas; I’m aware of that. Some people just get through it. Some people are alone. Some people are grieving. Playing happy families at a time when it’s not happy for everyone shouldn’t be forced, and documenting isn’t pretending everything is fine. It’s being honest about what it is. So forget about posing. Forget smiling for the sake of it. Forget taking photos for Instagram or your family WhatsApp group. Take them for yourself. Take them quietly and honestly, out of love and enjoyment.

Whatever you’re up to over the Christmas break—whether it’s sitting at home with a takeaway and your dog, volunteering at a shelter, or surrounded by your immediate family and in-laws, I am asking that you document it. Take your camera or video camera, even an iPhone, and be present. Notice the emotions, the light, the energy, and take some photos in whatever way feels right to you. Because in 10 or 20 years, the photo won’t just be a photo. It’ll be a doorway back to a time you didn’t realise you’d miss.

This week I got the film developed from my trip to Rome. And something immediately struck me: I was seen by most of the people in the photos I took, which is a bit unusual. Normally, I can move through the street almost incognito; people may glance, but they don’t usually care. Here, people were looking directly at me. It happened far more often than I’m used to. While I was there, I’d been using photography as a way to stay present, to focus on the external world rather than the spiralling thoughts in my head. But looking at the images now, my visibility feels undeniable. Locals even stopped me to ask for directions in Italian, which is strange, because I don’t look Italian at all. For some reason, I stood out.

So, why exactly did this happen? What did I do differently that made me so obviously visible? I know body language and mannerisms play a huge role in street photography. And believe me, I tried all the methods: staring directly behind the person, the Garry Winnogrand routine, and more. But maybe I looked anxious and panicky. (Doctors and experts say that anxiety can’t be seen by others, but I think we can sense it as people.) Maybe the intense desire to get out of my head and into my body by actively pursuing “good images” created some kind of energy around me, an energy that made me visible.

Sometimes when I go out to shoot, I feel like I’m on a mission, like it’s life or death to get that one shot. I sometimes compare a busy street to a battlefield. It might sound dramatic, but there is an addictive, almost compulsive feeling to the chase of the image: Will the photo come out? Did you get the shot? Is the exposure right? It’s a determination I admire in photographers like Lee Miller and Catherine Leroy, whose work in actual battles is so inspiring. While writing this, I see the comparison more clearly: a battlefield in my own mind, where anxiety meets the attempt to document the present moment—an attempt at peace.

But maybe if it feels like a mission in my mind, I give off that energy to others. I wonder, if the desire for the perfect shot wasn’t there, would I be as eager? Would I carry that powerful, noticeable energy?

I’ve come away with a few lessons I want to practice for future photo sessions, both in Dublin and abroad:

1. Take your time. There is no pressure. You’re not in an actual war zone (Thank God).

2. Deep breaths. If anxiety strikes in big crowds, find somewhere quiet and take deep breaths.

3. Let the photos come to you. Train your eye to see where your two feet are, not 5 feet in front of you (especially with a 28 mm lens).

4. Stop walking so goddamn fast and stay still. Good photos don’t only come from pacing up and down the street. Sometimes, the best photo is found by standing still and waiting.

5. Stop taking it so seriously and enjoy the process. It’s an absolute privilege to be alive and to have the working legs, arms, and eyes to get out there and take photographs - especially with a Leica! Gratitude for the process and the experience goes a long way.

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Image Credit: Jack Garofalo

If Universal Basic Income (UBI) were to come into play, we assume that all creatives, photographers, and artists would thrive. We believe we’d have unlimited hours, endless inspiration, and finally some cash to cover the bills, so we can finally create the masterpiece of our dreams.

UBI will be a huge benefit to a lot of people, don’t get me wrong. But for us photographers and creatives, what if it didn’t deepen your photography but exposed how little purpose we have when it comes to creativity?

I know, as a creative, you despise your full-time job. Tell me about it. The commute, the small talk... It’s really only good for the money, right? You wish you could quit and just paint or take photos all day. I get it. You want that freedom, but the freedom won’t buy you more ideas. Here’s the thing: creative people confuse freedom with purpose.

You need a mission, a goal, and a drive to accomplish what you want in life.

UBI & Purpose

For the majority of people out there, photography is just a form of therapy. It’s a temporary escape tool from that shitty nine-to-five job. It’s the one slice of joy that you have in this mundane life that you are experiencing. Think to yourself, is it true? Are you just escaping a life you really don’t know if you want? Is this your purpose, or are you just using it as an escape tool?

UBI is a massive positive step towards global change. But I’m quite concerned. I think if a lot of people had UBI and didn’t have to work ever again, it would actually reveal an internal emptiness. A depth of sadness and purposelessness they never knew they really had. People put so much purpose into their working lives, they forget about what actually lights them up in the world. We see this in people who work hard in their lives. As soon as they stop, they die. Just because they do not have much else to do with their time or feel a lack of desire to live.

There was a recent study on a UBI experiment in the US where recipients of an unconditional monthly transfer were significantly less likely to work and put in fewer hours. They didn’t work, but it makes me wonder, what levels of happiness or fulfilment did these people experience? How did these people actually fill their time? Did they spend it creating, spending time with people they love, or did they sit around watching Netflix?

Before we continue, I must state that the concept of purpose isn’t just about a grand creative project. Purpose comes in all forms. It’s for people who are mothers or those who work in charities or animal shelters. People can find purpose in the little things in life, too, and that’s A-OK. Purpose really isn’t the issue. It’s the concept of knowing thyself. If people knew what they valued and loved, UBI could make essential, unpaid work possible. Your neighbour who loves horses could go work in stables every day, and your friend with elderly parents could spend time with them in their later years. But not many people know what they actually love and value. That’s why knowing thyself is vital before UBI comes into play.

If you don’t know yourself, this concept becomes somewhat dangerous to a degree. You see, when there’s no pressure to pay the bills, and you have unlimited time, you are left with yourself, your thoughts, and your true motivations. You will have freedom, but will you have direction and meaning? Because freedom without direction is just another form of chaos.

Insights

Creativity as a form of escapism dies without pressure.

If your photography exists as a band-aid for a horrible job, UBI would remove the very tension you depend on to create. You might stop shooting completely, not because you’re lazy, but because you were never really shooting for a purpose. You were only shooting to escape.

However, if creation comes naturally and you have goals and a mission, you would and should thrive, as long as you have focus and structure.

UBI Won’t Create Vision; It Will Expose It

The ones who truly understand what lights them up and gives them purpose in life will take full advantage of UBI. The people who have done the work on themselves know what they value in life and understand who they are; these are the ones who will win the game of life.

Creativity Thrives in Structure

Humans need structure to survive. Even ancient tribes, I imagine, had their routines and lived in accordance with nature; they had structures to their days and weeks. Honestly, there have been times I was unemployed and on social welfare. I had all the time to create, but I didn’t, because I was so worried about finances, and I had no structure in my days. When I got a job, the time constraints and the pressure allowed me to shift my mindset and actually use that small sliver of time to create. Creating became therapeutic but also gave me space to understand what actually lights me up.

Purpose is the Constraint That Actually Frees You

You don’t need endless time or to quit your day job. You need 30 minutes a day to just focus on your goals. This will become something so much greater. Whether it’s a project or time with a loved one. That dedication will snowball into the life you truly value.

Final Thoughts: Get Ahead of the Curve

UBI won’t turn people into better artists. It will just reveal who has a reason to create and what they actually value.

If you can take one thing away from this, it’s that freedom only matters when you truly know yourself and know what you prioritise and love. So, don’t quit your day job to become a full-time photographer. Take the downtime you have now to truly learn about who you are. Then, when UBI arrives (which is inevitable), your free time will actually be filled with a mission and a driven purpose, and you’ll be way ahead of the curve.

If this piece resonated with you, consider sharing it.

Thanks, Ruth

This year, I was invited to the Congregation festival, where chaos was the theme of the discussions and workshops. To attend the festival, you must submit a piece of work about the year’s theme. This essay was my submission: Society’s Downfall: A formula for modern chaos.

The grind and trap

I’m scrolling through Reddit and seeing posts from annoyed commuters detailing a 2.5-hour crawl into Dublin this morning. Hundreds of comments explain a similar story: a desire to work from home, a company rule against it, and the relentless pressure to pay the bills and keep going. This is the grind as we know it. Our archetype, John, starts his week in the pre-dawn darkness, trades hours of his life for traffic, sits under fluorescent lights that give him a headache, and buys a €10 New York-style deli sandwich - the epitome of gentrification in a crumbling city. He ends his day staring at his phone, while Netflix plays in the background, watching others who seem to be living better lives, before finally admitting he has wasted another evening. For John, the rigid rat race is a painful trap, one he can’t leave due to his responsibilities. His mind is full, but he can’t afford therapy (let alone the waiting lists), and his body is crying for something deeper. This, I believe, is the personal manifestation of a greater societal chaos, one that stems from an unnatural way of living and a profound disconnect from what it means to be truly human. But John gets up tomorrow, and the day after, because he has to keep paying the bills, right?

Illusion of connection: What would Dunbar think?

The real chaos in our society comes down to this completely unnatural way of connecting and living. Apart from the endless commutes, processed food being pumped into us and a crippling loneliness epidemic, we are overwhelmed by the orchestrated political and media puppet show. Whether it’s left, right, Democrats, Republicans, all the noise about immigration, the housing crisis, the “attacks” on both genders. Governments and the media are attempting to control our views, while everyone walks around like sheep. Zombies. Head in the phone. Constantly being drip-fed information we want and don’t want. And the result is an intellectual, spiritual and emotional overload; we’re hooked on the chaos.

This overload competes against our biological wiring and DNA. Robin Dunbar proposed that our brains can only handle about 150 meaningful relationships at a time. Whether that’s true or not, it gives us food for thought. Can we truly process the volume of lives we witness on social media? Can you count the Instagram stories you’ve seen in the last seven days? How many children are beheaded in Palestine, how many celebrities are jetting off into space? How much negativity have you sucked in? How many times have you seen a cousin of a friend you once met at Grogan’s pub, partying in Ibiza and said, “Yeah, I’d rather be there”? But you don’t know any of these people, really, but you know their business. I remember deleting my Instagram for a few months, and about 10 people I knew never texted or reached out. It was like I never existed. Crazy. People are living through their screens and the media that’s being streamed into their minds, and forgetting about the people in their reality.

If Dunbar, even in the late 1800s, could have imagined the instant accessibility of every country, every person, and every bit of information we currently have, he would be horrified. The reality we are living in is dystopian, a world built for the likes of Black Mirror. We are isolated, disconnected, and completely buried under data all of the time. Taking all this into account, we must ask ourselves what ever happened to a simpler life: a life of local connections, travelling for a purpose (not for tourism), and ditching this consumerist concept that more is better.

Ultimately, our overload problem can be simplified into a formula:

(Too much Accessibility + Too much Convenience) / (Lack of discipline + lack of presence) = chaos

This formula is the only way to describe our modern mess. The numerator is: Too much Accessibility and Too much Convenience. It has burned down every mental barrier we had. We can instantly see global tragedy, scroll the fake lives of strangers, and get anything delivered with two clicks. This is an emotional, mental, spiritual and intellectual war. It’s a flood of noise our biological brains are not built for. But we have to ask why does this flood break us? Because of the denominator: a widespread Lack of discipline and lack of presence. If you won’t fight back, if you can’t be present in the now, for the simpler life you’re calling for, the outside force will try to drown you. We are in an age of convenience and accessibility, and when the mind can’t protect itself, the only outcome is chaos: the crushing isolation, the incessant comparison, and the total disconnect from being human.

Solution: the pull for intuitive living

I’m not against capitalism or society in any capacity. I am not going to run off into the woods and isolate myself from everything I know. I am ambitious, eager to earn money, competitive - I’ve had my own startup, been in the corporate world, and played the consumerist game of trends and holidays for no reason other than ‘because’. I understand the pull and desire for more. But that is exactly where the chaos distracts and allows you to lose yourself. The calling for a simpler life is no longer dawning on me, it’s here. The desire to wake up when I want, work out how I want, eat intuitively, do the work I care about, take photographs, make love, and be in nature. Maybe buy a beat-up 1980s Mercedes or Suzuki Jimny and hit the West Coast during the summer, wouldn’t that be great? To climb mountains, cuddle with my cats, drink tea with my parents, and dive in the cold Irish sea - not needing to be anywhere else. Just here. Just present. The chaos infiltrated who I was, but I am escaping. I am finished with the relentless climb to be better, have more, do more, be more, and see more.

If you can take anything from this it would be, don’t wait for permission to live a better day. Fight for a life that energises you, keeps you grounded, keeps you present. Define your own boundaries, learn to listen to your intuition, and not the constant noise. And remember the simple truth: Less is always more, convenience is a trap, and connection is your only defence against the chaos.

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