This post pulls on a similar thread to the one where I discussed posting slop. Both point to my ultimate frustration with social media: its addictive nature and the cultural impact it has on society, all for very little gain. Prompted by conversations I’ve had with social media managers, I felt the need to express my thoughts in a written post.
These conversations have been immensely frustrating, but I wonder if that’s because I’ve moved past caring about the things that seem to preoccupy others. There’s no preaching here; I’m not on some higher level — I’m just too old. Yet, when someone says, “If we do x, that will get loads of views,” I can’t help but cringe.
But it’s not just the words of social media managers that frustrate me. To be fair, I recognise the irony here. Even as I criticise this mindset, I’m not immune to it. When I reflect on my own creative journey, particularly with photography, I’m reminded of my early days as a blogger. Back then, I was similarly obsessed with metrics, constantly checking my visitor numbers as if they were the only indicator of success.
Listen, I understand that the overall aim of everything online is attention. It doesn’t matter what metric it is measured by — views, clicks, likes, total user minutes — it all boils down to eyeballs on your content. The only issue is that none of these things matter. Views only matter if they’re tied to something concrete, like ads or sales. Otherwise, they’re just empty metrics. To what end do views matter unless you’re showing adverts or selling something in them? Without that, they’re simply numbers we’re told to care about, supposedly as a proxy for people caring about your work.
That’s true in part when you’re talking about feature films and TV shows, to a point. In every other context, these views are merely mindless entertainment for people trying to distract themselves from the world. You can be the best social media manager in the world and produce loads of views for my company, but if it doesn’t lead to real-world impact, what’s the point? “Branding,” they say, which gets an even bigger groan from me before I switch off from their pitch entirely.
It’s worth acknowledging that many people argue these metrics — views, likes, and clicks — are crucial because they drive brand awareness. In a world where attention is currency, having more eyeballs on your content seems like a valuable asset. After all, increased visibility can lead to greater recognition, more followers, and potentially, more business opportunities.
However, this argument falls apart when you consider what these metrics truly represent. Views and likes are fleeting, often driven by algorithms rather than genuine interest or engagement. Brand awareness may increase, but it’s superficial if it doesn’t translate into meaningful actions — like a customer buying a product, subscribing to a service, or supporting your work in a tangible way. Chasing metrics for their own sake leads to a hollow pursuit, where numbers replace genuine connection with an audience that truly values your work.
Ultimately, the real measure of success isn’t in the number of followers or views you accumulate, but in the depth of engagement and the lasting impact of your work. This is something I’ve come to understand over time, yet it’s a lesson I find myself relearning with each new creative pursuit. Metrics may give the illusion of progress, but without substance, they’re just distractions from what truly matters.
Reflecting on this, I realise that my frustration isn’t just with social media managers or metrics, but with a mindset, I’ve wrestled with for years. This isn’t the first time I’ve been caught in the trap of chasing numbers. When I started blogging, I was equally obsessed with metrics — constantly checking visitor counts as if they were the ultimate measure of success. Now, with photography, I find myself repeating that same pattern.
Here I am 12 or so years later doing the same thing with my photos. I’m trying to push them into as many places as I can for no real gain. I’m not marketing or selling anything, so there’s really no point in my efforts. Yet, I feel as if I have to post to several places, many of which I hate visiting, just for “reach.” I search for likes as an ego boost, so I don’t feel as if my toils have been in vain.
The real metric is indeed people liking my photos, but not on Instagram with a double-tap. It’s about buying prints and putting them on their walls, selling them through online services, or being commissioned to take specific shots. They say that you only need 1,000 true fans to ‘make it,’ but that doesn’t mean followers on social media. That means true fans — people who engage with and support your work. It doesn’t mean watching your TikToks.