Photos from the 1800s were so serious.
If you've ever perused photographs from the 19th and early 20th century, you've likely noticed how serious everyone looked. If there's a hint of a smile at all, it's oh-so-slight, but more often than not, our ancestors looked like they were sitting for a sepia-toned mug shot or being held for ransom or something. Why didn't people smile in photographs? Was life just so hard back then that nobody smiled? Were dour, sour expressions just the norm?
Most often, people's serious faces in old photographs are blamed on the long exposure time of early cameras, and that's true. Taking a photo was not an instant event like it is now; people had to sit still for many minutes in the 1800s to have their photo taken.
Ever try holding a smile for only one full minute? It's surprisingly difficult and very quickly becomes unnatural. A smile is a quick reaction, not a constant state of expression. Even people we think of as "smiley" aren't toting around full-toothed smiles for minutes on end. When you had to be still for several minutes to get your photo taken, there was just no way you were going to hold a smile for that long.
But there are other reasons besides long exposure times that people didn't smile in early photographs.
Why so serious? Public domain
The long exposure times for early photos may have contributed to serious facial expressions, but so did the painted portraits that came before them. Look at all of the portraits of famous people throughout history prior to cameras. Sitting to be painted took hours, so smiling was out of the question. Other than the smallest of lip curls like the Mona Lisa, people didn't smile for painted portraits, so why would people suddenly think it normal to flash their pearly whites (which were not at all pearly white back then) for a photographed one? It simply wasn't how it was done.
A smirk? Sometimes. A full-on smile? Practically never.
"Mona Lisa" by Leonardo da Vinci, painted in 1503Public domain
Our perceptions of smiling have changed dramatically since the 1800s. In explaining why smiling was considered taboo in portraits and early photos, art historian Nicholas Jeeves wrote in Public Domain Review:
"Smiling also has a large number of discrete cultural and historical significances, few of them in line with our modern perceptions of it being a physical signal of warmth, enjoyment, or indeed of happiness. By the 17th century in Europe it was a well-established fact that the only people who smiled broadly, in life and in art, were the poor, the lewd, the drunk, the innocent, and the entertainment […] Showing the teeth was for the upper classes a more-or-less formal breach of etiquette."
"Malle Babbe" by Frans Hals, sometime between 1640 and 1646Public domain
In other words, to the Western sensibility, smiling was seen as undignified. If a painter did put a smile on the subject of a portrait, it was a notable departure from the norm, a deliberate stylistic choice that conveyed something about the artist or the subject.
Even the artists who attempted it had less-than-ideal results. It turns out that smiling is such a lively, fleeting expression that the artistically static nature of painted portraits didn't lend itself well to showcasing it. Paintings that did have subjects smiling made them look weird or disturbing or drunk. Simply put, painting a genuine, natural smile didn't work well in portraits of old.
As a result, the perception that smiling was an indication of lewdness or impropriety stuck for quite a while, even after Kodak created snapshot cameras that didn't have the long exposure time problem. Even happy occasions had people nary a hint of joy in the photographs that documented them.
Even wedding party photos didn't appear to be joyful occasions.Wikimedia Commons
So how did we end up coming around to grinning ear to ear for photos? Interestingly enough, it may have been the advent of motion pictures that pushed us towards smiling being the norm.
Photos could have captured people's natural smiles earlier—we had the technology for taking instant photos—but culturally, smiling wasn't widely favored for photos until the 1920s. One theory about that timing is that the explosion of movies enabled us to see emotions of all kinds playing out on screen, documenting the fleeting expressions that portraits had failed to capture. Culturally, it became normalized to capture, display and see all kind of emotions on people's faces. As we got more used to that, photo portraits began portraying people in a range of expression rather than trying to create a neutral image of a person's face.
Changing our own perceptions of old photo portraits to view them as neutral rather than grumpy or serious can help us remember that people back then were not a bunch of sourpusses, but people who experienced as wide a range of emotion as we do, including joy and mirth. Unfortunately, we just rarely get to see them in that state before the 1920s.
The meaning of life is a big question for all of us.
I put my parents through existential hell when I was a kid.
Even at just 7 or 8 years old, I didn't see the point in anything, and it left me defeated.
What, I just go to school, come home, do homework, go to bed, and then get up and do it all over again? What are even doing here?!
It must have frustrated them to no end. Looking back, of course they didn't have the answers! None of us do! It couldn't have been easy trying to explain that to a child who just wouldn't let it go.
A dad posted: "I was putting my 7 y.o to bed when he asked if it's weekend tomorrow. I said yes, then he asked 'and then it's school again?', then painstakingly said 'and then we do it all over again'. My boy has just realised what life is."
Dozens of other parents chimed in on the thread to share that their kids, too, had at some point become aware of the drudgery of daily life.
"On the school run earlier this week my son realised he'll have to work one day like mummy and daddy. Shortly followed by the words 'and then I'll be tired'", wrote one.
"My 8yo daughter asked me what the point of life is if all we do is slave away to pay taxes," said another.
And here's a brutal one for you:
"When my daughter was four she stood on the 10th step of our staircase and decided it was time for her to take her first flight. I told her that was not gonna happen and she was about to really hurt herself. She asked what age she'd finally be ready to fly. I told her never. People don't fly. She teared up and asked 'what's the point of life then??'."
NASA/Unsplash
Existential Intelligence refers to an ability to see the big picture.
So often we're focused on more tangible skills like math, reading comprehension, language skills and memorization in kids.
But some kids just seem to have a knack for seeing the whole forest, so to speak. And that can lead them to ask big questions. According to MentalUp, common questions from kids who excel in this kind of thinking are:
(If you've ever had to explain the concept of death to your kids, you know it's not a whole lot of fun.)
Even though it might be frustrating to be put on the spot with questions you can't answer as a parent, Existential intelligence in kids is a good sign. It means they're curious, empathetic, and want to know they 'why' behind what they do and what they're asked to do. They're good at connecting skills they're learning in school to the real world (and they might struggle if they can't figure out why they'll ever need to know the names of all the generals in the Revolutionary War).
These kids may make great leaders, great communicators, and talented artists as they become older.
But in the meantime...
NASA Hubble Space Telescope/Unsplash
I asked Dr. Ryan Sultan, a child board-certified psychiatrist and professor at Columbia University, for some tips on how parents can handle kids with high Existential Intelligence.
What do you do if they get really bummed out about the disappointing realities of life? How do you explain the meaning of existence to them when you haven't figured it out for yourself yet?
"[Existential intelligence] can be a beautiful quality in kids, but it can also bring challenges—especially when they start to feel a sense of futility in everyday routines or even feel disheartened by the seemingly endless cycle of school, homework, and activities," he says.
Step one is to validate their feelings, and avoid dismissing or trying to distract them.
"Many kids, particularly those who think deeply, go through phases where they wonder if life is just a series of monotonous routines. Let them know that adults also grapple with these questions—and that it’s okay to feel uncertain or even bummed out by it."
Next, instead of giving them the answers you don't have, try asking questions.
"Encourage them to explore what these feelings mean to them. Ask questions like, 'What do you think would make life more interesting or meaningful?' or 'What are the things you enjoy that make you feel alive or excited?'"
Help them understand that these are questions they'll be asking themselves their whole lives. It's not so much about having the answer right away, but seeing life as a lifelong journey of learning and curiosity.
Help them find meaning in art, nature, community, or spirituality.
"For some children, creative outlets like art, music, writing, or even spending time in nature can be powerful ways to explore and express these feelings," Dr. Sultan says. "Others might find meaning through spiritual practices, like meditation or mindfulness, which can help them feel more connected to the present and less burdened by the future."
Helping them give back by getting involved in the community or with a charity can make a big difference too. And if you can model the ways in which you find meaning amidst the daily drudgery, that's even better!
It's a good thing when your kids ask these kinds of questions, even though they're hard (or impossible) to answer. It means your children are empathetic, curious, and want to know more about how the world works. The most important thing is not to reframe everything positively and try to "cheer them" out of it if these philosophical quandaries put them in a funk. It's OK to get a little down because you're not sure what the greater purpose is — we've all been there. That just means they're human. Encourage them to get a little more comfortable with the not knowing, and to never lose that sense of curiosity.