You finally have a reason to tell your incessantly-Instagramming friend, family member, or colleague to put their smart phone down and step way from their trendy dish.
Finally, the proof we've all been waiting for. Cue the rejoicing.
The researchers attribute this loss of appetite to "sensory boredom," the idea that simply seeing photos of food can satiate your appetite to the point of losing interest in the item.
Upon first glance, it makes sense; seeing a bunch of pictures of food might turn you off. Maybe after the first few photos you start thinking about how unhealthy that particular pastry must be, or how nauseatingly rich that devil's food cake looked, or how many miles you'd have to run to burn off those potato chips.
But I am a doubter.
After all, if pictures of food didn't entice people to eat, why is food advertising such a popular and lucrative industry? And why do we have entire channels on television dedicated to show us every nook and cranny of every food item known to man? To date, looking at pictures of chocolate or pretzels in any form has never caused me to lose interesting them. And there is never a time when, while watching some short order cook slap more melted cheese on some friend monstrosity on "Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives" that my husband doesn't drool on himself. But perhaps there is something inherent about Instagramming food--as opposed to filming it being served up or seeing it advertised on TV--that automatically kills our appetite.
My theory lies in the fact that Instagram is a social network.
(I can hear the collective "duh." Just stay with me here.)
Fast forward through the ages, and this idea of a June Cleaver-esque household where everyone sits down every night for a homemade meal seemingly doesn't hold much weight. In a world where dinner for many people is eaten on the go and comes in a microwaveable package or off the Dollar Menu, there doesn't seem to be much of an argument of the sacredness of a family meal.
But this Instagram study makes me think the argument remains.
Perhaps it is the simple act of pulling out one's smart phone and hovering inches above a dish that makes people lose interest in the act of actually eating. Because Instagram is a social network that is confined to mobile devices, it violates two basic principles of food: eating is something that is best enjoyed in the company of others and eating is something that is very intimate for those included in the dining party.
Imagine that you are meeting an old friend for a meal at a trendy restaurant. It's been years since you've seen them in person, and you've made reservations at the coolest spot in town. You've been looking forward to this dinner date for quite some time. But during the course of the evening, your friend cuts into the conversation with "I have to shap a shot of this," and proceeds to pull out her phone, take a picture, and tag it with inane text like, "OMG best dinner date cocktails ever! #oldfriends #lovemoscato." The fact that your friend placed a physical barrier (her phone) between both you and her dinner seals her off from the experience. It also gives the impression that she would rather share this moment with her "friends" on some intangible social network than with you, a real, tangible person.
This idea that Instagramming one's dishes cuts one off from the intimacy of sharing a dish in the true (not digital) company of others is what I believe to be behind the results of the Brigham Young University study.
But I'm just me. What do you think?
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Finally, the proof we've all been waiting for. Cue the rejoicing.
The Rise of Sensory Boredom
A recent study published by Brigham Young University researchers involved having 232 people look at and rate pictures of various types of sweet and salty foods (from chocolate cakes and pastries to chips and pretzels). Half of the participants looked at pictures of sweet foods while the other viewed the salty foods. After having looked at the photos, participants were given salty foods and were asked to rate how good they tasted. Interestingly, the participants who looked at pictures of salty food enjoyed their snack less. |
| A young woman no doubt Instagramming about her lunch. |
Upon first glance, it makes sense; seeing a bunch of pictures of food might turn you off. Maybe after the first few photos you start thinking about how unhealthy that particular pastry must be, or how nauseatingly rich that devil's food cake looked, or how many miles you'd have to run to burn off those potato chips.
But I am a doubter.
After all, if pictures of food didn't entice people to eat, why is food advertising such a popular and lucrative industry? And why do we have entire channels on television dedicated to show us every nook and cranny of every food item known to man? To date, looking at pictures of chocolate or pretzels in any form has never caused me to lose interesting them. And there is never a time when, while watching some short order cook slap more melted cheese on some friend monstrosity on "Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives" that my husband doesn't drool on himself. But perhaps there is something inherent about Instagramming food--as opposed to filming it being served up or seeing it advertised on TV--that automatically kills our appetite.
My theory lies in the fact that Instagram is a social network.
(I can hear the collective "duh." Just stay with me here.)
The Historical Sacredness of a Meal
Food, from the beginning of time, has also been very social. Think about it: primitive man would hunt together and dine together. It was a method of social cohesion, a way of communing with each other, of sharing something incredibly important. It is in this way that food--and the act of sharing it--is also incredibly intimate. In what way can you get to know someone more candidly than sharing a meal with them? Cooking and sharing a meal has gone from something that was done solely for sustenance and survival to an activity that is done for the purpose of unity and relation bonding.Fast forward through the ages, and this idea of a June Cleaver-esque household where everyone sits down every night for a homemade meal seemingly doesn't hold much weight. In a world where dinner for many people is eaten on the go and comes in a microwaveable package or off the Dollar Menu, there doesn't seem to be much of an argument of the sacredness of a family meal.
 |
| Mrs. Cleaver's perfect, "I beg your pardon?" face. |
But this Instagram study makes me think the argument remains.
Perhaps it is the simple act of pulling out one's smart phone and hovering inches above a dish that makes people lose interest in the act of actually eating. Because Instagram is a social network that is confined to mobile devices, it violates two basic principles of food: eating is something that is best enjoyed in the company of others and eating is something that is very intimate for those included in the dining party.
Imagine that you are meeting an old friend for a meal at a trendy restaurant. It's been years since you've seen them in person, and you've made reservations at the coolest spot in town. You've been looking forward to this dinner date for quite some time. But during the course of the evening, your friend cuts into the conversation with "I have to shap a shot of this," and proceeds to pull out her phone, take a picture, and tag it with inane text like, "OMG best dinner date cocktails ever! #oldfriends #lovemoscato." The fact that your friend placed a physical barrier (her phone) between both you and her dinner seals her off from the experience. It also gives the impression that she would rather share this moment with her "friends" on some intangible social network than with you, a real, tangible person.
This idea that Instagramming one's dishes cuts one off from the intimacy of sharing a dish in the true (not digital) company of others is what I believe to be behind the results of the Brigham Young University study.
But I'm just me. What do you think?
