I was still feeling a touch hung over on a recent Sunday morning when the flashing started, and it wasn’t the residual effects of Prosecco and St. Germain that was causing pops of light in my head. Across the aisle at my favorite greasy spoon, a klatch of young women pulled out their digital cameras and were eagerly snapping photos. While I love this diner almost as much as I love a good “Mary Tyler Moore Show’’ marathon, I couldn’t imagine that the eatery’s unremarkable decor was worthy of photographing.
It turns out that it wasn’t. Cameras were exchanged among these ladies, along with comments such as: “Now take one of me looking sad, but let me fix my hair first.’’ This continued long enough that I was tempted to lean over and say, “Why don’t you take one of your waffles getting cold?’’ Through a sufficient amount of eavesdropping, I learned that these photos were being staged for a friend who had recently moved to Florida. The pictures would go up on Facebook, and the friend could see all the fun she was missing.
It’s a scenario that’s become all too common: People are putting more effort into documenting their good times with excessive digital photography than simply enjoying their surroundings. Like overzealous grandparents armed with a new camcorder at a child’s birthday party, people can’t stop recording moments instead of living them. I recently asked a friend about a new club night in Cambridge, and his response was, “It was fine, except everyone there was more interested in taking pictures of themselves for Facebook than dancing.’’
The sad truth is that a perfect storm of digital photography and social networking sites has turned us into a nation of photo exhibitionists, and a nation of voyeurs. We can’t wait to photograph and then post our images on social networking sites. A few clicks later, and we eagerly sit back and wait for comments from friends to roll in and affirm just how much fun it looks like we’re having at that party - or at the greasy spoon as our waffles get cold.
“I think digital photography and social networking sites are changing our relationship with voyeurism,’’ says Jeannie Simms, a faculty member at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts. “It’s changing the boundaries. I can look at all these photos of people I don’t know, and parties I haven’t been too, and it’s authorized. It’s even encouraged. I think we’ve expanded our voyeuristic tendencies.’’
There’s no question that people love looking at strangers’ photos. Just look at the success of Found magazine, a publication that is based entirely on our desire to snoop. But Found magazine publishes photos and notes that are accidentally left behind. We’re now encouraging people we don’t really know to check us out online. As a result, people are taking photos of themselves at an astounding rate, and posting them in very public forums. Our photos used to record important events and then sit in albums. Later on we’d pull them out and share them with family. Now these photos sit on Flickr or Facebook every day, no special event required. We feel compelled to create a nonstop flow of content to satisfy all those photo voyeurs out there.
It’s only natural that we’re headed to full-on photo voyeurism. After all, millions of people tune in to watch the marriage of a couple with eight children crumble or view mildly talented and superbly annoying families bicker in living rooms the size of high school cafeterias. Why wouldn’t we think we’re entitled to view each other’s photographs or create our own version of reality TV on Flickr or Facebook? Strangely, this level of photographic self-documentation has been around for years, and has its roots in art.
“There’s a long history of artistic expression that goes along with it,’’ says George Fifield, director of the Boston Cyberarts Festival. “In many ways it’s performance art. It’s just going to get more prevalent. Cameras are getting less expensive. I think we’re going to see a lot more video out there too.’’
I think it’s fantastic that folks have incredibly high self-esteem and love posting their photos. I also have no problem with social networking sites and digital photography creating a new generation of voyeurs and exhibitionists. I just ask that you occasionally stop and enjoy a moment rather than take a picture of it. In other words, please let me eat my waffles without cameras flashing on a Sunday morning.
Christopher Muther can be reached at muther@globe.com. 
