The Algorithm Ate My Feed: A Reflection on Instagram’s Broken Promise

A few months ago when I was in Zimanga (South Africa), my follower count exploded (as i wrote in this post). Hundreds a day—sometimes thousands—piling in like a digital gold rush. I’d built a quiet corner for wildlife and nature photography: black and white wildlife that I loved for 20+ years. Then suddenly, the numbers surged. At first, I thought it was organic. A repost? An explore page hit, or did random people actually like my work? But the profiles told a different story: most weren’t photographers. No gear in bios. No nature in feeds. Just follow-back loops, bots, and blank avatars.

The irony? The more followers I gained, the less I wanted to post. The platform rewarded scale, not soul. I felt the disconnect grow. So I pulled back—posted less, scrolled rarely. The feed I’d once curated with care started feeling like someone else’s.

Then came Shenzhen, China.

Ten days in China, shuttling between factories in Shenzhen, Dongguan & Guangzho with my great friend Liu behind the wheel. 20, 30, 40, 60+ minutes at a time trapped in crazy chinese traffic (Me: how far to the next factory? Liu 7km about 25-30minutes)—phone in hand, Instagram open. I wasn’t creating. I was consuming. Mindless scrolling to kill time. Liking wildlife as always. Commenting rarely. Just watching reels, ads, and noise roll by, killing time.

I flew home to Sweden. A few days later, I noticed it: the follower growth had flatlined.

For months since early august, my follower count had been climbing steadily—hundreds a day, like clockwork. Now? It’s trickled to a handful at best. Back to pre-surge levels. Eerily quiet.

This morning, I actually dropped for the first time: from 68.8K to 68.7K. I used to check every morning, curious how many had trickled in overnight. I knew they weren’t real photographers—just bots or ghost accounts—but damn, the ego boost felt good. Funny how the mind latches onto numbers, even when you know they’re hollow.

Was it the trip? Did the algorithm flag me?

Think about it:

• I’m in China.
• Using a foreign IP.
• Scrolling heavily, but engaging little with my core content.
• Few likes. No comments. No posts.
• Just passive consumption—behavior that mimics bots or spam accounts.

The algorithm doesn’t know I was in a car between factories. It doesn’t care about context. It sees patterns. And mine screamed: low-quality user.

So it did what algorithms do—it demoted me. Stopped pushing my account. Froze the growth. Maybe even shadowbanned the reach.

And now? I log in, and the feed is worse than ever.

• Memes: Endless.
• Ads: Relentless.
• News: Intrusive.
• Suggested noise: Louder than ever.
• Wildlife photography: At best every 8-9 posts in the feed

(with the risk of these screenshots saying more about my scrolling behavior than I like to admit, i post them haha -Michael)

And the wildlife photography? The nature shots? The only thing I ever like or comment on?

But the algorithm doesn’t listen. It serves what retains attention, not what reflects intent. Nature doesn’t trend. It doesn’t sell. It doesn’t go viral. So it gets starved.

Instagram isn’t a photo app—it’s an attention economy. And right now, I’m not profitable.

So here’s the truth: That follower spike? Likely fueled by temporary algorithmic favor—maybe a viral ripple, maybe geographic boost from africa IPs posting africa wildlife shots during my last trip. The crash? Punishment for going silent in the wrong place, at the wrong time, in the wrong way.

I’m not mad. I’m awake. I’m amused . I never liked the sudden spike it never felt real.

I’ll post when the wild demands it—not the algorithm. I’ll like only what moves me. I’ll comment where connection is real. And I’ll build beyond the feed—on my site, in print, in the wild itself.