I recently sat down to a gourmet meal with some customers and colleagues; whereupon camera phones where immediately whipped out of suit pockets and handbags in order that the dishes could be photographed in all their glory. Now this is by no means a new phenomenon and indeed I am just as guilty as my fellow diners, however I was struck by a comment from one chap who announced that “unless you’ve Instagrammed your food, you’ve never really eaten it”.

Now as I personally had already tucked in to my food, rather than posting the photo to social media, I began to wonder whether my food now existed in a state of quantum paradox. I had taken a photo of it, but I had as yet not applied a filter to the photograph, tilt shifted the focus, or posted it to any form of social media, instead taking the opportunity to actually enjoy the dish at its best. As I sat there feeling sated I found myself reminded of Schrödinger’s cat, where upon the cat is simultaneously alive and dead until observation causes reality to collapse into one possibility or the other. If you apply Schrödinger’s principle to my food, based upon my fellow diner’s claim, then my food was existing in a quantum superposition of states, where upon it had both been eaten and not been eaten simultaneously, until I either Instagrammed it, or chose not to.

Now if one were to also pose the philosophical question of perceived existence, along the lines of Berkeley’s trees in the forest, the point of conjecture being over whether if you post the image to Instagram, but nobody follows you, does the photo – and therefore the food – even exist? Suddenly we are on the verge of some form of new, social media based super-diet, using quantum paradox and metaphysics to reduce any and all calories into a non-existent state, thereby allowing dieters to eat whatever they want, providing that they photograph their food and then either don’t post it, or at least post it to a private Instagram account with no followers. Gone are the feelings of guilt over that second portion. Gone are the nagging concerns over whether you should be healthy and chose the fruit salad, or naughty and enjoy the mountain of chocolate soaked profiteroles, with extra cream, extra chocolate and hell, extra profiteroles!! Gone are the hours and hours of sweat soaked cardio, trying to work off the pounds. Instead we say hello to pudding, to snacks, to almost Augustus Gloop-esque levels of gluttony, with nothing more than a slightly drained iPhone battery to show for it. Gone are the RDA’s for kcal and salt, replaced instead by a Recommended Daily Posting Allowance – 5 photos for a healthy man, 3 photos and a tweet for a woman.

What about alcohol? Would the same principle work for drink too? Would we suddenly see a whole new public awareness program – “Don’t Drink and Post”? (There is an argument to say that this should be in place anyway!!) Would the Police ditch the breathalyser and instead check your social media feeds and photo library?

There are of course potentially a few big problems associated with this. For one, what about people who don’t use Instagram, or social media? How do they eat anything at all? Then there are the problems of connectivity, or technical issues. Back in April last year the feed server at Instagram crashed, instantly prompting concerns of a Global food crisis. Thousands of users rushed to Twitter in dismay as the realisation set in that they may not be able to seek sustenance until the fault was resolved.

What about if you take photos of other people’s food, who has eaten it then? Does posting a photo of a banquet, or a restaurant mean that you’ve consumed all the food there in? Would posting a photo of an “all you can eat buffet” result in some sort of Mr. Creosote style end?

Do different filters, or focal patterns have an effect on the calorific content? What about Blind people?

The impact of social media photography on the culinary world has been far more dramatic than many might realise, with chefs taking up positions on either side of the discussion. Some, such as Michel Roux Jnr, or Martin Burge view the practise of photographing the dishes as the height of bad manners. They claim that it is disruptive to other guests and that it spoils the experience for future diners by removing the element of surprise. They also claim that the quality of the photographs is not good enough to show the dishes in the best light and is therefore potentially damaging to their intellectual property. Some restaurants have even tried to enforce bans on photography, with varying degrees of success. Others such as Angela Harnett and Marcus Wareing are more accepting of it – “we cannot as chefs use the media, including social media and TV, to promote our restaurants then be upset if people take pictures themselves.” While Tom Kitchen even encourages it, as he appreciates the feedback and free advertising.

Away from the realms of the celebrity chef and fine dining we are now even seeing Instagram and food photography being used to help people suffering from eating disorders and depression. Teenage girls in particular are being encouraged to create and share photos of beautiful and often incredibly ornate plates of food. Channelling compulsive tendencies into a meticulous, but euphoric attention to detail that leads to self-love instead of self-hate. This “Superfood” community is promoting a positive relationship with food, seeing beautiful meals and snacks which lean toward works of art, as opposed to “just another meal”. The descriptions stress abundant nourishment and excess, with “huge dollops”, “toppings overkill”, taking joy in these wholesome – mainly breakfast based – dishes.

So what do we take from all this? We have teenagers and adults getting positive reinforcement and support through food photography, while professional chefs are divided on whether it should be allowed. I guess I sit somewhere in the middle. I love the joy of a perfect looking dish of food that somebody has spent time and care over plating. I can think of several occasions where I have almost felt bad about eating the dish and destroying the work of art that someone has created for me. As a result I think that should you desire to photograph the dish for posterity’s sake and share the appreciation with others, then you should be allowed – providing that you don’t start whipping out a DSLR at the table, rearranging the setting and blinding the people at the next table with the flash. However the camera should then be put away and the dish enjoyed while still warm, or cold… or sizzling, or smoking, or bubbling, or before the mist of rainforest dew escapes. Any manipulation of the image, or posting to social media should be left until after the meal has finished.

It has long been said that we eat with our eyes, an evolutionary trait that stems from the most basic of survival instincts. How food looks has a massive impact upon how appetising we find it, for example a golden, rotisserie-roasted chicken makes your mouth water more than a pale, poached chicken breast. Restaurateurs and chefs use this to their advantage, spending a fortune on the smallest details of the crockery and room, while each dish is a perfectly presented master piece, all designed to create an impression of the dish, long before any of it even comes close to your mouth. Some chefs, such as Heston Blumental, even play with this concept making food look like one thing, while tasting like something different. Heston famously dresses up bull’s testicles as fruit, delighting in the guest’s surprise when they discover that it is an altogether different kind of plum they have just popped in their mouth.

There is a risk that in the hustle and bustle of modern life, food can become almost utilitarian. A simple means by which to gain the necessary nutrition and fuel that the body requires. It also demonstrates why so many of the current fad diets fail. The more plain, unexciting and unimaginative you make the food that people are told to consume, the more they are likely to rebel, or eat emotionally. It’s important to remember that we are not robots and that healthy eating does not have to mean boring, or unexciting eating, it simply means eating healthy and nutritious foods, most of the time, so that you can allow yourself a treat once in a while. Food should be a joyous experience, whether healthy, or not. The fact that some people still take such joy in “food porn” is both refreshing and exciting.

So with that I’m off to eat!

Stay Groovy all. DG.x