It used to be that only celebrities had to worry about intrusive photographers. With the rise of Facebook however, we are all becoming victims of the voyeurism of others.

Last summer I attended an excellent party in the Wiltshire countryside. As with most good parties I invariably became drunk, performed ridiculous actions and then was swiftly taken home – with a change of clothes, in this case.

When I awoke the next morning – with the usual mixture of hangover and regret – I was shocked to find that photos of the party had already been put on Facebook. I am not against photos being taken at parties. I have come to expect it at the early stages of a party, when everyone is sober enough to feign a pose. But when the party is in full swing! Now, that I object to.

The problem with a photograph is that it can never fully capture the moment. It can record visual data with great accuracy – sometimes too much accuracy! – but there is a lot more to a good party than visual data. Because of this the photo is always out of context and is rendered meaningless. (Tabloids and gossip rags thrive on this by the way, inventing scintillating stories to go with each picture.)

In most cases this isn’t a problem, as we can imagine the context more or less accurately for ourselves. It will never be the same, but it will be close. An example is a photo of someone who has just hit their thumb with a hammer. We can easily imagine the pain that person must have felt, and it will probably be quite accurate. With a party however, things are different.

A good party is full of chaotic energy and, like a theatrical production, is different every night. One of the best parties during the Middle Ages was the festival of the Twelfth Night. Twelfth Night featured The Lord of Misrule – generally a peasant – who reigned over the celebrations. The hierarchy was reversed and, for a day, chaos and revelry ruled.

A modern party needs the same sense of anarchy. Alcohol provides the usual means. As people loosen, social boundaries slowly disappear. Things begin to happen in the party world that would never happen in the everyday world. Often they happen within a game, where the rules of the game replace the rules of society. Twister is a great example – can you imagine people doing that in any other setting? Party games are as liberating as they are ancient, originating in the Roman and pagan festivals that came before Twelfth Night.

The everyday world and the party world should co-exist in a kind of balance. When the balance is disturbed, bad things happen. When the Roman festival of Saturnalia – the forerunner of Twelfth Night – was shortened by Caesar Augustus, it caused huge revolts among the people. Euripides recognised the need for balance in his play, The Bacchae. In trying to repress the worship of Dionysus – the god of wine and ecstasy – the young king Pentheus brings ruin to his city, his family and himself.

For many, keeping this balance is the secret to a good party life. For others, it creates a difficult tension between reality and fantasy. I believe that this tension is a good thing, however. It can make you aware of the fantasy in your everyday life, and when the worlds blur. Once you get used to the tension, you can see the world as a kind of theatre.

Some believe that the everyday world and the party world should be kept separate. That, just as the Twelfth Night festival ended on the stroke of midnight, so all parties must come to an end. With light heads, the revellers must make their way home in the darkness, for the dawn brings the return of the ‘real’ world. This has long been the conventional thought on the subject. I am not so convinced.

By bringing elements of the party world into the everyday world, we can become aware of how we play roles in life – from the ambitious office worker to the reckless party animal. We can see how these roles – while important – need not dominate us, and that we can have fun with them.

Transporting elements of the party world into the everyday world also gives us an opportunity to subvert the rules (social conventions, etiquette etc.) of the everyday world. In doing this we can emphasise the above point – about the roles we play – and have fun at the same time. The whole process allows us to increase our understanding of what constitutes reality.

At this point you might say: “Surely that is what Facebook photos of parties are doing – bringing elements of the party world into the everyday world.” But Facebook photos of parties are not elements of the party world; they are just photos (visual data) of the party world.

Photos of the party world (or of anything else) are static. They do not convey the dynamic energy of a party. They are objects of the everyday world, which is also static. As objects they become open to judgement by the social and moral standards of the everyday world.

By taking elements of the party world and turning them into objects of the everyday world, photos undermine the mystery and the reality of the party world. They ridicule the dynamic chaos (aka fun!) of a party by making it look stupid and even offensive. They are, in short, an unfit representation of the party world and should be abandoned altogether.

Perhaps the best argument against Facebook photos of parties is that in order for the photographer to satisfy their voyeuristic urges they need to stay sober. Now what kind of party is that! Next time you go to a party, leave your camera at home. You might end your days like Pentheus if you don’t. Forget the photos, unwind and have fun.

Photo credit: Will Montague