It's time for size-shaming!

Social media has fundamentally changed how we engage with photography, not just through its endless scrolling nature but also through its physical limitations. The small resolution and viewing size of images on social platforms have led to two major consequences that are quietly reshaping our standards for what makes a photograph "good."

How can you enjoy something this small?

1. The Death of Detail

Bigger images—those that are technically and aesthetically impressive when viewed in large formats like prints or full-screen displays—lose much of their impact on social media. The fine textures, subtle color transitions, and more complex compositions that elevate a photograph beyond the ordinary become imperceptible when squeezed into a 1080px-wide feed post viewed on a 7cm-wide screen. A breathtaking landscape filled with rich details gets reduced to something that simply doesn't look exciting, let alone exceptional.

This has consequences for both photographers and audiences. By now, viewers have been trained to consume only what works at a small scale, which favors bold, high-contrast, high-saturation and instantly readable images over those with depth and nuance. As a result, photographers started prioritizing visual impact over subtlety, knowing that their work will be judged in a fraction of a second on a tiny screen.

2. The Normalization of Imperfection

At the same time, the small format of social media also makes imperfections harder to see. Banding in gradients, dust spots, poorly blended edits, color issues and of course heavy noise reduction become less noticeable—and are completely invisible to the untrained eye—when images are displayed at a fraction of their original resolution. This normalizes a lower standard of quality, not because viewers consciously accept it, but because they don’t even register the flaws in the first place.

The Resistance to Thorough Editing

This shift in perception has also affected how photographers approach post-processing. The demand for perfection has waned, leading many younger photographers to question the need for complex editing techniques, particularly in Photoshop. On the surface, their argument is simple: why invest time learning intricate retouching techniques if the final product will only be seen on social media platforms that heavily downsizes images, making imperfections barely noticeable?

But let’s be honest—part of this resistance comes from the fact that Photoshop is hard to learn. Unlike mobile-friendly apps, Photoshop demands patience to overcome the learning curve and years of practice to become decent. The real issue isn’t just that young photographers don’t think they need it; it’s that they don’t want to go through the effort when faster, easier tools exist. It’s human nature to take the path of least resistance, and social media has made that path very attractive.

The Long-Term Risk

This wouldn't be a problem if it were just a matter of efficiency—seasoned photographers know when to prioritize quick edits for social media versus meticulous work for print or high-end projects. But when new generations of photographers stop learning advanced editing altogether, the industry risks reaching a point where Photoshop-level skills are no longer valued at all. If social media continues to dictate what images should look like, we may eventually see a world where fine-tuned, high-quality photography is viewed as unnecessary, rather than aspirational.

The upside? If you do take the time to learn high-level editing skills, you gain an edge over those who never bothered. But that advantage only holds as long as the industry still values refined work. The real danger isn’t just a shift in tools—it’s a lowering of expectations across the board.

Resisting the Shrinking Image

The constraints of social media shape what we see, and in turn, what we create. As images shrink, so do expectations, and if we’re not careful, so will our standards. For photographers who care about quality, the challenge is clear: resist the temptation to cater solely to what works on a phone screen and keep pushing for excellence, even when the world seems content with "good enough"—this unfortunately doesn't answer the broader and more pressing question I've been asking myself with each blog post lately: can we pull back photography-as-we-knew-it from the precipice?