Hello there. It’s been a while. I’m surprised you’re still here. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if I would ever pick this back up again. For a while, I really thought it was over (before it even began).
Okay, enough with the pop-culture references.
This is Cody Schultz, and you’re reading Explorations, my monthly? newsletter. At least, it’s meant to be — and henceforth will be — monthly. More on that in a minute. As always, one-click unsubscribe. One click, all done, goodbye. Otherwise, welcome back.
The last time I sent a newsletter to this list — excusing the pop-up announcement for Natural Conversation — was in late March, after arriving home from Japan. Since then, I have given a talk or two on mental health, continued working on Nature Vision, and quit my job as a family-based therapist. My life has been a rollercoaster, with various changes — not all subjectively good — and I still haven’t disembarked. Every time I see the light at the end of the tunnel, the flame flickers out, leaving me breathing in the smoke. I simply haven’t had the mental capacity to think, let alone do anything of a truly productive nature. Despite this, there are around forty of you who decided to subscribe and see what Explorations is all about. Hopefully I don’t disappoint.
Yet Another Pop-Up Newsletter
Yes, I know, I just ran a pop-up newsletter through August, this one alongside of Manu. This was just a sneaky way for Manu to force me to write more frequently and, for the most part, it worked. So, I would like to keep that momentum going, if I can.
Tomorrow afternoon, I fly out to Livingston, Montana where I will attend a workshop run by Strata Editions and Bryan Schutmaat. From the 12th to the 14th, I will join the group — which includes the legendary Ben Lockett — as we photograph landscape and people alike, all with the central focus of photobook creation. (How I was accepted into this workshop, I’m not sure; perhaps they just wanted my money.)
After the workshop, Ben and I will bum around Montana and Yellowstone National Park, photographing and experiencing the beautiful landscape in whatever ways we can. This will be Ben’s first time seeing the midwest, and I am quite interested in seeing what he takes away from the trip — past higher cholestrol levels and an addiction to unhealthy but flavorful foods.
If you would like to join along, please consider subscribing to this pop-up, entitled Trespassing Through Montana. I look forward to having you.
Loss
I want to touch on just one of the “various changes” I mentioned above. In the beginning of June, only a few days after spending Memorial Day Weekend at the cabin, my family made the difficult decision to put down Lucie, our English Springer Spaniel. This was a long time coming, as some of you know. For those who don’t, she experienced a drastic decline in health at the start of this year. Her blood count was abysmally low, her eyes, tongue, and mouth much whiter than it should be, and her general demeanor tanked. While at first she could keep up with Emmie’s high energy levels, it wasn’t long before she no longer wanted to play. By the time I left for Japan in February, I was expecting — almost hoping, for her sake — that I would come home and she would have passed naturally. That wasn’t the case.
We were told she would be gone within a few weeks, her body unable to replenish her blood cells after they die off, which happens naturally every 120 days. So, at most, we figured we would have three months with her — but only if her decline began when we first noticed it, which is unlikely.
By March or so, my family had already gone through the mourning of losing her. We were ready for her to go at any second. When, day after day, she kept kicking, we weren’t sure what to do. Realistically, there was little hope that she would get through this. If this was truly caused by bone cancer — the top hypothesis between my family and the vet — there was nothing we could do to stop it. Sure, we could put her through painful and invasive procedures in the hopes that we would get a few more months out of her, but for what? To keep her alive when she is clearly no longer enjoying life would be cruel and unusual punishment. It would be selfish.
When May rolled around and Lucie was still alive, even the veterinarian was surprised. But as much as we didn’t want to say it out loud, her time had come. She was incontinent, her body but skin upon a skeleton, barely able to walk for more than a few feet before collapsing into a puddle of black fur. No matter how hard Emmie tried to get her to play, Lucie just wouldn’t do it. What was once a relatively playful, but unordinarily chill puppy was now a shell of a dog. Her demeanor was quickly changing as we witnessed her snap and snarl at Emmie over food and territory. When she began to do the same to myself and others in the family, we knew it was time. This was no way for her to live. She was ready to go, but like the rest of us, she just wasn’t ready to admit it.
Euthanizing a pet is never a fun procedure. I don’t believe there is a single person involved who would do it if they didn’t have to. If it wasn’t the right decision for the dog. This is made even more difficult when the dog hasn’t even had her second birthday, when we weren’t even given the time to get to know her. Worst of all? Watching Emmie in that room, lying aside of Lucie’s weightless body, knowing that they would never again play together.
Social Media, Morality, & Mental Wellbeing
My views on social media have remained steadfast over the years. I quite firmly believe these platforms have led to worsened mental health — particularly in teenage girls — and a society who always feels they are missing out, who consistently have to “keep up with the Joneses.” While the creation of online places like Facebook and Instagram were initially justified in their goals (to help people find community and share their lives with friends old and new alike), Meta’s desire for constant growth — both in users and in financial gain — has led to algorithms which hijack our monkey minds in the worst possible ways. It is no wonder so many of us are addicted to our phones, unable to go without it in our hands, without scrolling through feed after feed.
If that is the case, and I truly feel so strongly against social media, why would I decide, for the third time, to join Instagram?
My decision revolves around my goals and where I would like to be in a few years. While the self-deprecating voice in my head would never allow me to believe I deserve a larger following, I deeply understand the need for one at a practical level. More importantly, a dedicated following. A group of individuals who will financially support you year after year, simply because they enjoy what you are creating. As Kevin Kelly calls them, True Fans.
Regarding my goals, among them is the possibility of offering 1-2-1 workshops and portfolio reviews. I have a longstanding love for sharing with people what little knowledge I may have, and this is but one way I can foresee myself doing so. More importantly, I plan to create fine art books of the highest caliber to hold both my photography and my writing, displaying them in the most proper way I can think of. This goal, however, will take me at least five more years to accomplish. Although I already know how the books will look, what the content of the first will be, which photographs taken thus far will be included, etc., I need to build a much larger following of true fans before that can happen.
That’s where social media comes in. Or, that’s where I believe it comes in.
Virality
Joining a platform such as Instagram or TikTok provides people with thoughts that they, too, can “go viral.” With each post, they harness the potential to reach levels of fame they never before thought possible. Millions of people flood to your account based on that singular post; companies reach out about sponsorships; record or book deals, movie or tv show contracts, pile up in your inbox; and before you know it, you’re hanging out with the likes of your favorite celebrities.
Once upon a time, this may have happened more frequently. The systems could be gamed, and people were hungrier for content than they currently are. Fame was never a guarantee — nor was it promised to last for long — but virality was accessible in a way it isn’t today. The algorithms have changed, forever altering the way platforms are used and the way accounts are recommended. And these algorithms continue to change. They’re fluid, in the same way a raging river is fluid. Unless you’re posting memes or cat videos — the two constants since the inception of the internet — you aren’t likely to benefit from hundreds of millions of views on a single video.
I don’t particularly believe that’s a bad thing. In fact, I may go so far as to say this is how it should be. Not in terms of discovery — no, that ship has long sailed — but in terms of forging a more intimate connection with your audience. This alone is why I will forever prefer newsletters (and especially pop-up newsletters) over any other platform. There are no algorithms to contend with, no other users I have to fight against to garner your attention. You signed up because you wanted to hear from me — and you do. When you decide you no longer want to, you can unsubscribe and I’m gone.
The issue with newsletters and personal websites is that they are very difficult to discover on their own. Word of mouth is the most powerful driver of attention, but the momentum toward decent growth is sluggish at best. SEO seems to be dying a slow death, what with the introduction of AI summaries and an overabundance of ads, making discovery through internet searches more difficult than ever.
So, what are we left with? How can we be found by others, those who may be interested in what we are creating, those who may even want to support our efforts?
I wish I knew.
Morality
From what my peers tell me, YouTube seems to be a decent way to build a following as a photographer looking to lead workshops and sell books. Substack may be a bit better yet, for those like myself who are more interested in writing than making videos. Neither of these options, however, are perfect. The former “forces” you to follow its rules — clickbait titles and A/B thumbnail testing; thirty-second ads every few minutes, plus sponsorships to actually make a dime; videos about the technical or the cliché, rather than what truly matters — and the latter is up in the air, seemingly supporting extremist content, leaving users uncertain of the company’s true intentions.
This brings on a question of morality: Is it right to join a platform that knowingly harms its users?
In the case of Substack, the answer to this question may not yet exist. The potential harm to its user base is individualized to a degree that other social media feeds are not. Yes, they utilize algorithms to push recommend content, but not everyone will find the same content to be of an “extremist” nature. Further, the company relies more on writing than on its video and podcast features (although that may change, as Substack decides what is best for its advertisers users). Very few are willing to scroll through article after article in the same way they can with photographs and videos. That alone ensures at least a menial degree of protection for one’s mental wellbeing.
Platforms such as Instagram and TikTok have enough research behind them to confidently say they are harming society. Their addictive nature has led to an uptick in teenage suicides and mental health diagnoses, such as anxiety, depression, and anorexia. Teenage girls, as previously mentioned, are most at-risk to these negative effects. Between the constant comparison of their bodies to that of celibrities and their peers, to the online bullying that cannot be easily escaped from, the unfortunate truth is that the use of these platforms leads to harm of the user.
And yet, here we are, supporting such platforms in the name of internet fame.
Many may argue this isn’t our problem, that it isn’t something we should bother thinking about because, ultimately, we aren’t the ones manipulating minds. Should we ignore what is happening? Don our rose-tinted glasses in the hopes that we will obtain our fifteen minutes of fame? If that’s the case, we may as well ignore everything wrong that is going on in the world. After all, what are we but dust in the wind?
Instagram currently has around 500 million active, daily users. If even a fiftieth of those users decided to quit the platform over the course of the next year, it would be heavily felt by Meta. This wouldn’t be enough of a loss for them to change their ways, but it would be a start. Just look at what happened to Twitter: More and more users are leaving the platform on the daily, trading it in like an unwanted Tesla, instead opting for Bluesky or Threads. With each loss of a user — particularly those with large followings — others are more likely to follow along, abandoning the platform altogether. This chain effect is what leads to the death of a network — and the birth of another.
We, as users, are all that keeps these platforms alive. Instagram, TikTok, Bluesky — they only exist because we allow them to. They are only able to cause the harm they cause because we allow them to. So we are led to yet another question: Should we keep alive these systems that we feel are harming society?
Reality
If I feel so strongly about social media, why do I feel it is okay to join and interact? By sharing my photographs, in an attempt to make a living off of what I love, am I contributing to the mental health epidemic?
As someone who speaks openly about my dealings with depression and anxiety, and who wishes to help others find solace in their troubled minds, I don’t know that it is moral for me to use social media. Thus we feel the swift pang of the double-edged sword as it comes down upon us.
At the same time, I am uncertain of any other way to get new eyes on my work. I have had decent success thus far with newsletters and essay contributions to various magazines, but the growth is abysmally slow. A more consistent approach to both would certainly help, although I am uncertain to what degree. Slow growth is fine, if not ideal, but there are bills to pay and they aren’t waiting around.
I first began writing this back in the beginning of summer, when I created my new account. Since then, I have continued to debate the use of Instagram, in particular, for my photography. It is only recently that I even began following select accounts, rather than stalking them via the search menu. Even now, I do not know whether I would benefit from posting anything. Nor am I certain I even want to.
This is a topic I am certain to have more thoughts on and so will write semi-regularly about as they come up. Perhaps a decision will be made in time, but it is more likely that I will simply debate this ad infinitum.
— C