We live in a moment in time where everything is recorded and shared
We live in a moment in time where everything is recorded and shared. Is this really good for us? Do we need to know what your sister, friend, or ex-lover is eating for dinner or where they are staying on holiday?
There used to be a time when we only shared experiences with those close to us—sending postcards or sharing a photo album after our travels. Now, we upload everything we think others will like, even for people we don’t know. It all began in the 2000s when the smartphone evolved into a social media hub, giving us direct access to gossip and speculation, even from celebrities themselves.
Everyone is recording everything now, like a camcorder with a direct internet connection. Does your life feel more fulfilled knowing what Joe Average is buying halfway around the world? Are you happier because you can see what a celebrity is ordering at a mediocre restaurant?
This extends to our opinions. We often think we need to comment or contribute, but too often it’s just surface-level interaction comments like "this was good" or "that place looks nice." There’s no deep conversation or life-changing dialogue.
We record everything, why?
The devices we carry take us out of the present moment, making us live vicariously through others, even if those experiences are fabricated. It’s part of a shallow, ego-driven world that provides quick dopamine hits, desensitizing us to the real world.
Is it truly good for us to record and share everything we do?
In the past, we saw the world through newspapers or by traveling to experience it first-hand. Now, we can learn about someone's life from afar—like hearing your ex is engaged or seeing a celebrity’s latest PR at the gym.
We are social creatures, but is there a point to always being connected?
Instead of truly interacting, we share in the hope of validation, which feeds our ego and insecurity. It’s becoming cringeworthy.
Talking isn’t action—it’s regurgitated thinking. Action is doing. Taking a photo isn’t action; it’s just archiving. When that can be fabricated, its value becomes zero. So why do we share everything?
It comes down to normalising, ego, insecurity, and dopamine. We think we’re connecting, but if something happened to you, who would be by your bedside? Those are the people who matter, and knowing what you ate for breakfast isn’t going to make more people show up for you.
Why do we share everything we do online?
Most of us might say we like sharing with family and friends, but why open it up to strangers?
If we really reflect, it would reveal a lot about our needs and personalities. But if we’re honest with ourselves, we might realise we don’t even know why.
And that’s what scares me.
