Recently, I bought an analog camera. This may be uninteresting and insignificant to photographers, adamant hobbyists or older folk, but I was so positively excited to place the film capsule in its spot and hear the click of an imperfect memory. With phone cameras that encourage perfectionism and unlimited attempts to achieve an ‘instagramable’ shot, it feels refreshing to let things be – though it's not the most efficient or even cost-effective option. This resurgent affection for older and more physical media has been evident in recent trends on the Internet, as many are purchasing digital cameras, seeking a vintage feel to their photographs. This has led me to ponder; how come we once again yearn for tangible media?
The most obvious argument, I feel, is the nostalgia of a supposedly less complicated time. Gen Z grew up in a world with the mammoth that is the Internet just growing its tusks. The humble beginnings of Youtube and other social media platforms had a sense of unfilteredness and experimentation – something that is rare in today’s optimised climate. Moreover, most of our childhood photos were still taken on digital cameras, belonging in photo albums that deliberately encourage one to sit down and reminisce. Whether or not these times were in truth more simple than now is a whole other matter of debate, but the simple memory of this time urges many to want to include features in their lives that transport back to a feeling of innocence and freedom.
With the rise of Artificial Intelligence (AI) and increasing pressure to compete with technological advancement, our generation seeks an outlet for these anxieties. AI slop has clogged our feeds, which in turn has ignited a want to connect with human-made content. Some pose a hopeful perspective that humans still have a place in the world, as AI is unable to replace the human soul, emphasising our role in creating meaning. It can be interpreted that this is exactly what physical media gives us: meaning. The very pursuit of being in the moment and taking a picture to then develop said photos later allows the user to directly engage with the memory, unlike with the immediate product of using a phone camera. Moreover, physical media returns control and human agency that continues to be usurped by AI.
The worries of the youth are further stimulated by the seismic waves of negative news in the media. With unemployment levels high, genocidal wars, failing democracies, the unattainability of homeownership, and the climate crisis, stepping into adulthood seems slightly daunting. Clay Routledge expresses that nostalgia is actually a “future-oriented behaviour,” helping us deal with current troubles and giving hope for the future.2 Routledge specifically focuses on the admiration for the offline era that Gen Z were not a part of, but seek stability from. It could be that some think of the legacy of old media, hoping that current creations will also follow the same trajectory some day. The youth clearly still engage with current trends and tend to meld vintage aesthetics with new ones, creating something quite unique. This indicates that the affections toward the past are not only about glamorising ‘the old days,’ but improving upon them. Furthermore, the re-emergence of physical media is an escape from the chaos as well as a sort of manifestation for a better future.
The trend of tangible media can be further interpreted as a countercurrent against capitalistic ‘efficiency’ mindsets. Most things that are not geared toward maximum profit, practicality or ‘progression,’ are seen as pointless. We tend to give less value to irrational or emotionally fulfilling things as these usually do not drive us toward a concrete and immediate goal. The increased interest in vinyl records or printed photographs may express a need to slow down and escape from the demand of a goal-oriented culture, as the most logical option would be to use our technological devices to give us the same result within seconds. However, it is important to note that this constitutes a largely western perspective, where this culture is predominant. What cultures do have in common is loneliness as an actor that is often prompting nostalgia. Perhaps younger people feel estranged from the Internet and the lack of attention to the abstract notions of being human. Furthermore, Routledge notes that nostalgia is often seen as unproductive, however is indeed a source of comfort. An increasing focus on practicality thus is pushing people to find new outlets, perchance as an act of rebellion. Ironically, the purchase of physical items is combatting the system that is built on consumption.
Now, I look at my camera and it is not just a silly step back in time when my hands were smaller and the ownership of a fidget spinner was paramount. Rather, my affections towards it are a messy web of nostalgia, frustration, hope, and disillusionment. I choose to look at this ‘Renaissance’ with optimism, seeing this as a rediscovery and exploration of what it means to be human in a miniscule form. If you have not jumped on this band-wagon yet, I suggest you try it. Pick up an old camera, rummage through old CDs or just read a newspaper, you might be delightfully startled by the friction underneath your fingers.
References
Sedikides, Constantine and Tim Wildschut. “Nostalgia across cultures” Journal of Pacific Rim Psychology 16, (2022): 1-16. https://doi.org/10.1177/18344909221091649
Routledge, Clay. “Why Gen Z Is Resurrecting the 1990s” New York Times, August 24, 2025. https://www.nytimes.com/2025/08/24/opinion/gen-z-technology-nostalgia.html
Wooding, Mark et al. “How Ai Slop will Spark the Next Human Renaissance,” Published March 2026, After Skool, video, 11:40. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0iT9HbaRwfM&t=148s