Maybe I shouldn’t admit this, but when I saw the photo of Princess Beatrice’s new baby, I laughed. Hear me out, though, before you decide I’m a horrible person: I expect baby Athena – lovely name – is perfectly lovely, and having arrived early, as my son did, will have quite a lot of feeding and growing to be getting on with. I say I “expect” she is, because we don’t actually know what Athena looks like. In the photograph her parents released of her, her entire face is hidden by her own raised sleeve in a Garbo-esque plea of “I want to be alone”.
So yes, I did laugh, but I also thought, well, fair play. I’m not one of those members of the British public who feels entitled to information about the royals, or photographs of their offspring. Athena is, as far as I’m concerned, entitled to her privacy and good on her parents for trying to maintain that, because, after all, she is too small to give her own consent.
What I find humorous is just how much the image reveals of that modern negotiation that so many parents find themselves faced with, when it comes to social media. Like anyone, Athena’s parents are proud of their new baby, and want to show her off, but they really don’t want to show her face. More noteworthy still is that Beatrice is a mother who comes from a tradition where, shortly after giving birth, a woman is expected to put on a pastel dress, beige tights and a full face of makeup and present herself and her baby to the world’s media while everyone pretends not to know that she is leaking milk and lochia and was probably swearing and vomiting mere hours ago.
It took an outsider, Meghan Markle, to take a stand against this insanity, and in the years since, she and Prince Harry have been judicious in how they have shared images of their children. He has been outspoken about the impact that being photographed in childhood has had on his subsequent mental health. You could argue that royal babies were the canaries in the coalmine on this. When social media took over the world, suddenly everyone had their children waving from the proverbial balcony, but prior to that, it was only really a very small group of kids who knew how it felt to be so surveilled, and to have one’s image disseminated widely among adults who are strangers.
So you know the tide is turning on posting kids’ photos on social media when even the monarchy isn’t playing ball. In the time since I became a parent, people have become more and more vocal about social media as a children’s rights issue, to the point where most of my friends don’t put their children online at all any more.
The ones who do use “close friends” filters, or take photos using gently amusing compromises, whether it’s a face obscured by an object or emoji, or the use of “unidentifiable” angles (I have friends I have known for years whose children I would only recognise by the backs of their heads). Others only send pictures on WhatsApp, Google Drive, email, or specific apps that have been developed for that very purpose. Some hardliners don’t even do that. I expect the sharp decline in user experience of all social media platforms will have only exacerbated this tendency.
Of course, the “momfluencer” is thriving, but now so is the backlash. There are some brilliant influencers out there with good intentions, but the dark side is so very dark. The most recent scandal involves the former YouTubers James and Myka Stauffer, who created content out of adopting a child – until they gave him up.
When I started writing columns about parenting, I speculated that the first social media “Mommie Dearest” memoir would be on its way soon, and so it has come to pass. The harrowing testimony of Shari, the eldest daughter of the influencer Ruby Franke – now jailed for child abuse in the US – should give pause to those making money from photographs and footage of their children and those who consume this content. Though an extreme example, it’s a sobering lesson in the cruelty that can occur behind a wholesome, algorithm-optimised facade.
When I last wrote about this subject, a primary school teacher told me that children often confide in her that they dislike how much their parents share about them online. I think about that often, as everyone should. Because if that’s what children are saying, then the least we can do is listen to them.
What’s working
I’m thrilled to announce that The Republic of Parenthood is going to become a book, not only featuring collected essays but also new material and beautiful illustrations from the artist Pia Bramley. It’s out this summer, but you can see a sneak preview of the cover here. I’m so grateful to all the readers who kept telling me that it should become a book! It’s all thanks to you.
What’s not
The £3 folding Ikea sick bowl – a sick bowl should always be sole purpose, I feel – has been out again, but I am out of practice with my aim, and must have done 10 loads of laundry on Sunday night. Apologies to my neighbours for the various sounds emanating from our flat, some far worse than the spin cycle.
