Summary of “Why I can’t stop posting my kid’s photos and sharing him with the world”

The instinct has long been there; it’s just that it used to require a lot more overhead. In the 1970s, for example, there was the post-vacation slide show, in which relatives and friends of the lucky travelers had the bad luck to be buttonholed into two hours of photos with lengthy you-had-to-be-there anecdotes.
Instagram, Facebook and Twitter are also a way of flipping open your wallet to the world and saying, “Here’s my son Thomas, the person who brings me more happiness than I could ever have imagined.”
At work, I created a channel on the messaging application Slack where all I do is share photos and videos of Thomas, splashing my love for him onto everyone around me.
No picture of Thomas with a goofy expression in the bath.
Pictures of Thomas are taken indoors or in places either so abstract as to be unidentifiable or so popular that it doesn’t matter.
Where things are tricky isn’t in how I approach sharing images of Thomas but in how others do.
We ask people not to tag a location when they are taking pictures of Thomas, but it’s harder to ask them not to post images where he looks goofy.
Thomas was born into a world where his image was already mostly out of his control.

The orginal article.