We are teaching children to live by their image. What kind of future are we creating?
- Fotoprostudio
- Sep 16
- 4 min read
Just a generation ago, teaching a child to look at themselves too much in the mirror was considered dangerous—an excess of ego, a trap of vanity. Today, however, we teach them from an early age to pose, frame, and please. Before they even learn to write, they already know how to activate a camera, choose a filter, and strike a TikTok pose.
We are not doing it out of malice. We do it because the world works this way. Because visibility seems synonymous with existence. Because memories need visual proof. Because being seen, today, is a way of being.
But... then what?
What will happen when those children grow up knowing their most intimate moments were content? What kind of mindset is built when everything you do is made to be shown? And what kind of relationships will they develop if their worth was always measured in clicks, likes, and shares?
We are not talking about technology. We are talking about humanity. Childhood as a spectacle. The body as a visual identity from the cradle. A generation that may be faster, more efficient, more visual... but also, perhaps, more anxious, more dependent, more empty.
Are we creating people... or profiles?
Índice:
1. Born to be watched
One of the first things many parents do after their child is born is announce it with an image. The introduction to the world is no longer a visit or a call. It’s a story, a well-framed photo, a post that accumulates reactions.
That child may not yet have language, but is already part of the family’s visual narrative. They grow up knowing their life has an audience. And that, even if it seems innocent, changes everything.
The self is built by looking, but also by knowing that one is being looked at. That difference, which used to belong only to celebrities, actors, and leaders, now belongs to all children. But without a manual.
2. Documented childhood, projected identity
Today's children will reach adolescence with hundreds of images of themselves published by others. Their visual identity will already be shaped by external decisions. And perhaps one day they will look at those photos and ask themselves: was I that? What part of that was mine?
The right to visual oblivion is a chimera. Everything stays. Everything circulates. Everything gets indexed.
And in that scenario, building one's own identity is much harder. Because before they can discover who they are, they already have a profile.
3. The like game: Dopamine at five years old
Many children receive their first doses of external approval through screens. A funny video, a choreography, a well-calculated expression. Likes become digital caresses. And like any caress, they create dependence.
Are we raising a generation more confident in themselves... or more vulnerable to judgment? More expressive... or more addicted to recognition?
Dopamine doesn’t distinguish intent. It only responds to impact.
4. Visual education or aesthetic training
We say that this generation is very visual. That they know how to communicate, edit, record themselves. But are we confusing technical skill with communicative maturity?
They learn to be liked, to appear, to respond to learned visual codes. But what about critical thinking? About deep reading? About the ability to observe without judgment?
Are we teaching them to see... or to like?
5. The body as an interface: filters, perception, and dissociation
At eight years old, they already know what a filter is. By ten, some want to undergo surgery. By twelve, many have already experienced the distance between their face and their digital version.
The body stops being a vehicle and becomes a display. A canvas that is corrected, edited, and compared.
How will they build self-esteem if they never learned to see themselves without mediation? How will they love the real if they were always offered an enhanced version?
6. Relationships without skin: connections on screens
Friendship begins with likes. Relationships through DMs. The bond is mediated by image. Presence is measured by stories viewed, not by words spoken.
Will they learn to hold silence? To look without framing? To connect without self-editing?
When the body becomes an interface, the other stops being a mystery. And without mystery, the bond becomes flat.
7. Conclusion: We do remember. And that is a responsibility.
Those of us who grew up without the pressure of always being visible, without having to turn everything into an image, know that another way of life is possible. One where value is not measured by interactions. One where what matters wasn’t always photographed.
We have a memory that the new generations won’t have. And that is a responsibility.
It’s not about going back, but about not forgetting. About offering contrast. About showing that there is life beyond the frame.
Because if one day all those of us who remember what it was like to live without becoming content disappear, the memory of that freedom will disappear as well.
And then, perhaps, there will be no one left who knows what it feels like to be... without showing yourself.
And perhaps there will be no one left who knows what it was like to look without expecting a reward.
Or to be with someone without having to prove it.
Or to live something intense... without recording it.
And then, yes, that other way of inhabiting the world will become irretrievable. Not because it was better, but because no one will remember that it was real.
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