When visiting a small town called Maheshkhali in southern Bangladesh, it began to dawn on me just how problematic some photography can be. Maheshkhali was quite busy that day: a small cruise ship, with an estimated 100 passengers, had anchored offshore and many of its guests had wandered into town, buying souvenirs, sipping on coconuts and taking pictures. On a residential back road, away from the bustle, a small child – no more than four years old – was playing in a yard. His cheeks were stained with mud and his clothes in tatters. A metre or so away, just by the gate, a western traveller was photographing him without the child realising. As he innocently rolled a burst bicycle tyre in the mud, the traveller snapped away, capturing a depiction of Maheshkhali without context.

Someone else’s shoes

There’s no denying that taking photographs while travelling is a lovely way of documenting a trip. It preserves the characters and colours we come across, adding depth to the memories we preserve in our mind. Yet what had happened in Maheshkhali isn’t an uncommon occurrence. A child was photographed by a stranger, without his or his parent’s consent. Would this not be problematic if it were happening back home?

Then there is the added complexity of context. Images can unintentionally trap people and places in a narrative that isn’t their reality. Around the corner from where that child played, a lively street market was filled with young entrepreneurs – mostly women – who were weaving and embroidering scarves, shawls and wraparound skirts. The photo of the child was taken without a connection to, or an understanding of, this community. Yes, photographs tell a story, but nuance shouldn’t be overlooked

Is it Instagrammable though?

Today, a travel photo shared on social media can take on a life of its own. Search on Instagram for #durdledoor and you’ll find over 300,000 photos showcasing almost identical scenes of the iconic limestone arch in Dorset. With their aerial views, glassy ocean and sunset backdrops, these are images filtered within an inch of perfection. Yet what these photos don’t explain is that this area is fragile: the surrounding limestone rock is crumbling and the grassland is diminishing. Signs ask visitors, arriving in their hundreds each day, to stay on the path, but people still scramble over the ropes and climb onto the ridge in the name of an Insta-worthy picture. The conservation of this remarkable British landmark and its surroundings is now in jeopardy.

In 2017, a survey by Schofields Insurance revealed that 40% of clients, aged 18 to 33, picked holidays depending on ‘how Instagrammable’ the destination was. It seems that Insta-worthy, tick-box culture has become a reason to travel. With no context, no learning and no real understanding of the place, is this really a healthy way to experience the world?

While most travellers’ intentions are harmless, we should afford the same courtesy to the places and people we come across that we would expect from others visiting our home towns. With all this in mind, perhaps it’s time to recoin the responsible traveller’s motto to, ‘Take fewer pictures, leave fewer footprints’.