The Instagram Problem
I'm considering abandoning my personal artistic Instagram account (@dan_s_higginson). I want to get my thoughts in order and figured others might want to come along for the ride.
It's been over twelve months since I shared new work on Instagram. The handful of posts I have shared were all from my archives. The reason for my inactivity is I'm tired of using the tool for sharing and consuming art.
By Dan Higginson
Discovering new artists is frustrating. Facebook have geared their social media platforms at presenting work on an impossibly tiny scale, both in physical size and time spent with each piece. Do you ever feel like they want to move you on as quickly as possible so they can show you more paid adverts? Due to the platform's format, when we scroll hard through Instagram, we unintentionally reward creatives for removing context. Aspiring influencers are engaged in a constant arms race with algorithms to expand their reach, stifling creativity and encouraging copycats while leaving many fantastic artists totally off our radar. Only a handful seem to slip through and get the attention they deserve.
Relentless waves of people crash over even the best work in less than a second, with no more than a furious double-tap from the most engaged to show their admiration. Each creation becomes no more than content. Socially, we've regressed to an exchange of shallow emojis and vapid comments. Social media has become like recent big movies. Endlessly monotonous reboots of old ideas, born deprived of substance, ready to be consumed and forgotten by the numb and glazed-over masses.
I'm not saying there's anything wrong with people that enjoy Instagram. But to me, it feels hollow, absorbing my time without any real payoff. And once I find something that speaks to me, the journey ends at the exact point it should start. There's no way of diving deeper into a piece of work.
I don't need or even want a following. I've spoken to a few creatives with decent Instagram followings, and some negative themes worry me. You can monetise Instagram to a point, but it doesn't necessarily open as many doors to paid work as you'd expect for the effort. Instead, it can trap you into producing stale versions of your previous work, paralysing potential artistic progression. Even engaged followers rarely invest in you as an artist. Instead, they miss the point of your work and focus only on the most superficial elements. Also, a big following invites unwanted critics with little or nothing constructive to say and even less experience to back it up. And if you dare to air a personal belief, small-minded souls with opposing views will be there to tell you that they don't follow you for your political point of view, despite the fact artists have always lead the charge for reform. This behaviour sounds terrible for our mental health.
All of this leaves me wondering why I even bother with social media for creativity. But this raises two far more significant questions. How do I want people to experience my various personal projects? And do I even want to share them outside of a close circle of friends and peers? Right now, I can't answer either question.
Don't get me wrong; I've built some meaningful relationships through social media - That's where I met Paul Bence (my fellow Idle Hands Society podcast host). But The Idle Hands Society has quickly filled that gap in my life, and in a more fulfilling way. It's allowed me to build genuine connections with people by having honest conversations. I could never have these chats on Instagram.
I don't see a future for creatives on Instagram; many internet platforms have fallen out of favour with vast sections of the creative community over the years. Have you noticed how the youth discover a new platform and abandon it as the older generations flood in? MySpace was the best place to promote music in the early 2000s; Facebook took its place and is now almost irrelevant outside of the group's function; now, Instagram feels near the end of life as the new kids on the block TikTok replace it.
I see the uses for social media and will continue to promote The Idle Hands Society and my business there. But I feel like I've just remembered I came to cross the swamp, not fight the crocodiles. My creative account doesn't bring me business or joy, so it might be time to walk away.
We grow by having questions with no answers. I see that now. I hear my inner calls to continue on my journey across the swamp, safe in the new knowledge that content is the death of art. I don't know what the future holds. But for me at least, the lessons for my progression aren't on social media.
By Dan Higginson
