Is Instagram killing the outdoors?
You’ve probably seen headlines like this plenty of times. They are provocative, maybe even a little dramatic, but are they completely off the mark? The question has been circulating for years, particularly as social media platforms have become one of the primary ways people discover places to visit.
One of the more memorable takes came from Tourism New Zealand in 2021, with a campaign that gently poked fun at influencer culture in a short clip titled Do Something NEW. It was humorous, but it also hinted at a growing unease around how and why we travel.
This debate is not new. It has been explored repeatedly in outdoor media and mainstream news, particularly as visitation to natural places has surged:
- Think Before You Geotag Your Hikes
- Calls to rethink geotagging of social media posts depicting Tasmania’s sensitive wilderness
- Warning over public safety in national parks as popularity soars
When I first started Trail Hiking Australia, my goal was simple. I wanted to encourage people to get outdoors and experience the many physical and mental health benefits of hiking. I wanted to show people beautiful places where they could step away from the noise of everyday life and reconnect with nature.
At the time, I received criticism from parts of the bushwalking community. The concern was that by sharing trail information online, I was exposing places that had previously been known mostly through local knowledge or word of mouth. I’ll be honest. Back then, I thought those concerns were unreasonable and even a little elitist. Why shouldn’t people be able to enjoy these places?
Several years on, I understand that concern far better.
Like many hikers, I had my own quiet places. Places where I could walk all day without seeing another person. Over time, I watched those same places change. Faint tracks became well worn paths. Litter appeared where there had been none. Wildlife sightings became less frequent. The sense of solitude that had drawn me there in the first place slowly faded. These changes did not happen overnight, and they were not caused by one person, but they were the cumulative result of increased exposure and visitation.
Then came Instagram, YouTube, and other social platforms. With them came a sharp increase in visitation to places that were once relatively obscure. We have all experienced some version of this. A place you have walked for years suddenly appears online. The photo is striking. The location spreads. When you return, parking is full, people are queued for the same photo, and much of the focus seems to be on capturing the image rather than experiencing the place.
For some people, this is a positive change. Seeing others enjoy the outdoors can be uplifting. For others, including myself, it can fundamentally change the experience.
Visitation is rising, and so is our impact
There is no question that social media has played a role in increasing visitation across the country. Whether that affects your enjoyment of the outdoors will depend on your expectations and preferences. For me, it often does, which is why I now tend to avoid places that are heavily promoted online.
That said, public land does not belong to me or to any one group. I also recognise that it would be disingenuous to pretend I am not part of this story. By sharing hikes, photos, and information online, I have contributed to more people heading outdoors.
The personal position I have taken is to avoid encouraging people to visit specific places purely to replicate a photo or capture a particular shot. This is not about hiding places or keeping people out. It is about being mindful of the downstream effects of how and why we share.
As this debate has grown, some have called for stronger rules or public shaming. In the United States, a group of hikers even petitioned the Leave No Trace Foundation to add an eighth principle specifically addressing social media. While well intentioned, the reaction to this proposal highlighted a familiar problem. Shaming quickly leads to defensiveness, division, and accusations of elitism.
Leave No Trace addressed this directly, stating that shaming is counterproductive and does not lead to meaningful behaviour change. In response, they published updated social media guidance to help people think more carefully about how they share their outdoor experiences.
Leave No Trace and social media
The updated guidance encourages people to reflect on how their images and posts may influence others. Importantly, it does not argue against sharing experiences online. Instead, it promotes thoughtful sharing and personal responsibility.
Key points include:
- Leave No Trace is not anti geotagging
- Consider what your images portray and what they may encourage
- Use social media to inspire respectful behaviour
- Avoid shaming or calling people out
- Give back to the places you enjoy
What can each of us do?
An ABC article in 2022 explored the impact of social media on Tasmania’s wild places. It highlighted examples such as Wellington Park’s Disappearing Tarn and Lake Rhona, both of which experienced significant environmental pressure following increased online exposure. Issues ranged from track erosion to toilet paper litter, something many of us unfortunately see far too often.
Tasmanian bushwalker and photographer Dan Broun summed it up well when he said that while social media has inspired more people to get outdoors, it has also changed behaviour. Crowding, poor campsite selection, rubbish, and conflict between visitors are becoming more common.
His conclusion was simple. Our digital footprints need to evolve.
For me, leaving no trace now includes my online behaviour. I remove metadata and avoid geotagging specific locations when sharing images publicly, unless I am sharing them with a small group of friends. I am not suggesting everyone should do the same. What I am asking is that we pause and consider the impact our posts might have beyond our own feeds.
Sharing experiences is not the problem. Sharing without thinking about consequences can be.
Before posting that next photo, consider whether tagging a general area rather than a precise location might be enough. Consider whether the image encourages care, respect, and awareness, or simply replication. Each of us has a role to play in shaping the outdoor culture we want to be part of.
While the conversation around digital footprints initially focused on environmental impact, it has since broadened into a deeper discussion about personal responsibility and the illusion of safety created by online visibility. I’ve explored this evolution further in a follow-up piece, Beyond the Photo: How visibility reshapes responsibility, which reflects on how digital visibility is changing behaviour in outdoor spaces and creating new challenges for land managers.
In 2000 I visited the You Yangs for the first time. There was no one around and I saw a koala! These days you cannot find a parking spot. Every man and his dog is there. 😥
Well said. As a Tasmanian and loving getting out and about I am also dismayed my peoples filth regarding toilet paper (and 💩 not buried). And rubbish. Parsons falls is the same too. Sad but tricky.
Karen Jane Hawkins it certainly is a tricky balance.
Trail Hiking Australia agree. Saw an idiot on top of Marion’s with a drone. Unbeknown to me if we had taken a pic parks and wildlife would have fined him.
Karen Jane Hawkins yeah, I see that often too. Spend a few moments on Instagram and it seems pretty common. Hard to know if they have a permit but they aren’t often granted for recreational use so I doubt it.