And me? Of course, I pulled out my phone every now and then, too. A goal, a choreo, a quick selfie. Click. But at some point, I asked myself: Why am I actually doing this? Because I know the reality: I’ll hardly ever look at these photos later.
The same thing happens to me when I’m hiking. I walk through beautiful landscapes, constantly stop for a second, take one photo after another… and later delete almost all of them. Not because they’re bad. But because they have no value to me. I post one or two – and the rest disappears into digital nirvana.
In moments like these, I realize: photography has become so easy today that we often do it without a real reason.
The Paradox of Our Time
Smartphone cameras are technically impressive – and they’re always at hand. That’s great, but it has a side effect: when we can photograph everything, we think less and less about what is actually important to us.
The image is made quickly, but it rarely has meaning. Not because it’s bad, but because there’s no reason to really keep it. I notice it in myself. I press the shutter far too often simply "out of habit."
Despite all this – I still believe that photos are fundamentally valuable. A blurry stadium photo can evoke emotions later. An unspectacular hiking picture can remind you of a beautiful day.
The problem isn’t that we take photos. The problem is how quickly we do it – and how little we allow ourselves to feel in the process. We take the photo before we’ve even truly perceived the moment.
Perhaps we should take photos a bit more seriously again
Not in terms of technology or perfection. But in terms of attention. It’s not about taking fewer photos. It’s about taking more conscious photos.
A photo should once again be an answer to a question: Why am I pressing the shutter right now? Because something touches me? Because I want to remember? Because I really want to capture something? Or just because I’m used to it?
Photography in the 21st century hasn’t gotten worse. We’ve just gotten faster. And in that speed, the value of the moment is sometimes lost.
But when I photograph consciously – while hiking, in the stadium, in everyday life – then every image feels a bit more like what photography actually is for me: A way not just to see. But to hold onto what truly matters to me.
