Why You Should Delete Your Instagram

What’s poppin, people? It’s Dante. This morning, I want to share some of my thoughts and ideas about why you should delete your Instagram.

You know, as a photographer, using Instagram is the equivalent of going to McDonald’s—pulling up to Burger King and ordering a Whopper, a Big Mac, fries, and a ten-piece chicken nugget.

I remember when I was younger, we had Cinnamelts.
Mmm, gooey, gooey cinnamon melts.
I couldn’t wait to get that in my tummy… and have diarrhea.

Instagram is the same thing. You consume all this sludge, all this junk, and what’s the outcome?

Diarrhea.
Splatter shit.

Cut the Junk

If you care about your craft, you don’t want to be consuming something that gives you diabetes, heartburn, or some sort of ailment. The same way you wouldn’t load your body with processed garbage, you shouldn’t load your mind with visual junk.

The Solution?

Delete your Instagram.

You wouldn’t keep junk food in your fridge if you’re serious about eating clean. Same thing here. Just remove it. Don’t even let it be in your line of sight.

But Can’t You Just Post and Get Off?

Sure, you can technically just post and bounce. But why are you publishing your photos in the first place?

Ask yourself:

Are you looking to gather followers, likes, and comments?
Or are you looking to hone your craft and take your photography to the next level?

If it’s the first one, fine. Stick around on Instagram.
If it’s the second, get rid of the distraction.

Clean Your Fridge, Clean Your Mind

Look at my fridge:

Cage-free eggs
Grass-fed beef
Grass-fed butter
Sparkling water
A grass-fed lamb leg

That’s it. No junk. No distractions. My fridge is set up for success.

Your visual diet should be the same.

Build a Healthy Visual Diet

Instagram tells you what a good photo is.
I don’t want that. I want to decide for myself.

I go straight to the source:

I buy New York strip steaks straight from Amish farmers in Lancaster, PA.
I frame an Alec Soth print and put it on my wall.
I sit on my couch and flip through great photography books—
Pinkhassov’s contact sheets
Koudelka’s Exiles
Hopker’s Lovers Lane
Nikos Economopoulos’ Cape Coast, Ghana (2016)

I study great photos. I analyze frames. I build a clean, high-quality visual palette.

This is the difference between eating clean and eating fast food.
This is the difference between training your eye and poisoning it with junk.

Get Off the Algorithm, Build Your Own Platform

If you’re serious about sharing your photos, make a website.
Go to WordPress.org.
Use Bluehost.com.

Instagram is just a website. So make your own.

Think about it:

You scroll through an Instagram feed.
But you can scroll through your own site just the same.
You can even make it dark mode or light mode.

Yesterday, I posted my photos from February 5, 2025, on my blog.
They live on my own domain.
I don’t need some middleman or some algorithm dictating my visibility.

Remove the Toxins

Instagram clogs your creative arteries.

It’s sludge. It’s processed garbage. It’s visual diabetes.

And once you’re infected with that glopalopolis sludge, you’re going to start shooting like everyone else.

You’ll wait for someone to step into a beam of light.
You’ll compose for the vertical feed.
You’ll take the same “colorful wall” shots as everyone else.

This is not photography. This is addiction.

Delete Your Instagram

You don’t need it.

I don’t need it.
And I don’t think you need it either.

Remove the toxins. Unclog your arteries. Open your heart. Let the blood pump.

Be fueled by your own creativity—
not by some algorithm,
not by some fake dopamine rush,
but by producing real work and staying laser-focused.

That’s all I have to say.

Thanks for watching.