More people have died from selfies than shark attacks in 2015. That’s a problem.
According to Mashable, throughout 2015, 12 people have reportedly died from injuries sustained while taking selfies, while only 8 people have died from shark attacks. To put that into perspective, an LSU student is more likely to get hit by a TigerTrails bus while filming their story on Snapchat than get eaten by an apex predator in the ocean.
How did we come to this?
Merriam-Webster defines a selfie as, “An image of oneself taken by oneself using a digital camera especially for posting on social networks.”
So, by definition, the purpose of a selfie is to boost one’s ego.
I’m not hating on those who take selfies. I, too, am guilty of uploading a selfie of a new haircut or goofy face on The Gram — which is Instagram for those not familiar with hip slang.
I don’t consider myself a part of the problem, though. If I take a selfie, it’s usually in a private place where I’m not going to attract much attention. I mean, selfies are embarrassing, right? Why would you want everyone to see you taking one?
According to an infographic on techinfographics.com, more than 1 million selfies are taken every single day. Fourteen percent of those selfies are digitally enhanced and shared across an array of social media platforms, including Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Snapchat.
The latter social network is likely what has caused selfies to become an epidemic of Ebola proportions. Snapchat users took app’s original intent — the taking and exchanging of nudes — and evolved it to fit into their everyday lives.
The average LSU student’s Story likely consists of heading to class, hanging out with their friends, dancing in Tigerland and maybe their cat being awkward.
Riveting stuff.
Why do Snapchat users feel the need to share the mundane inner workings of their lives with everyone?
White people aren’t to blame for the selfie epidemic. Neither are minorities. The face of the selfie epidemic has no color.
Or maybe it does. The Kardashians, particularly Kim, fully capitalized on the selfie craze.
We’ve watched Kylie Jenner’s lips morph over the years thanks to her selfies. We’ve watched Khloe become the hot Kardashian thanks to her selfies. We’ve even watched Kim’s metamorphosis into a fertile, goddess-like being fit for bearing Yeezus’ children thanks to her selfies — and her appropriately titled selfie compilation book, “Selfish.”
Are we taking and sharing selfies in an attempt to be like a Kardashian? What logical person doesn’t wish they were born from Kris Jenner’s womb? I know I’d love to drop out of college so I can date a rapper and go to New York Fashion Week.
While the Kardashians integrated selfies into their brand, they aren’t the force driving 65-year-old grandmas to taking selfies with their pets.
Instead, selfie-takers want to share something with others. That could be anything from their current activities, their loved ones, a picture to boost their confidence or maybe even their naughty bits.
Living in today’s world is both a blessing and a curse. We’re so obsessed with sharing our lives with everyone that we’re forgetting to actually go live a life.
The lives we’re sharing aren’t accurate depictions of the lives we’re living. They’re just the lives we want people to think we’re living.
Instead of picking on a defenseless, innocent white person, I’ll pick on myself. The version of me on social networks — @SirJohnGavin #FollowMe — is a snarky social commentator with an endless array of GIFs in his arsenal.
I wouldn’t share a selfie of me reading through case law for Mock Trial. I wouldn’t share selfie of me binge-watching “Mad Men.” No one really cares about this. Why? Because it’s boring.
But that’s the thing. My life is boring. Just like a lot of our lives are boring.
Let’s put an end to this selfie madness. No experience, no matter how exciting or like-worthy the experience is, is worth dying over. The faux-life isn’t worth dying over.
Put your phones down, people. Go out into the world and live your boring lives. Go get eaten by sharks or something.
John Gavin Harp is a 20-year-old mass communication junior from St. Francisville, Louisiana. You can reach him on Twitter @SirJohnGavin.