In the age of Zoom, people became unusually preoccupied with sagging skin around their neck and jowls; with the size and shape of their nose; with the pallor of their skin. There is a spike in cosmetic interventions, ranging from Botox and fillers to face-lifts and nose jobs.

Front-facing cameras have distorted our self-image

The term ‘Snapchat dysmorphia’ was coined in 2015 to describe the growing numbers of people who wanted to look like they’d been put through a face-altering filter in real life, all big eyes and sparkling skin. Before that, a patient might turn up at a plastic surgeon’s office with photos of a celebrity they wanted to look like clipped from a magazine. Even before the rise of social media, psychologists found that people who stared at themselves in a mirror became more self-conscious.

Snapchat dysmorphia

Unlike with Snapchat, where people are aware that they’re viewing themselves through a filter, video conferencing distorts our appearance in ways we might not even realize.:<ul><li>Front-facing cameras distort your image, like a funhouse mirror. They make noes look bigger and eyes look smaller. This effect is exacerbated by proximity to the lens, which is generally nearer to you than a person would ever stand in a real-life conversation. Looking down at a smartphone or laptop camera is the least flattering angle.</li><li>We’re also used to seeing our own reflection when our faces are relaxed – the concentrated frown (or bored expression) you wear in a Zoom meeting jars with the image of yourself you’re used to seeing in the mirror..</li></ul>

Zoom dysmorphia

<div>Eighteen months of using front-facing cameras has distorted our self-image – and a new study reveals that the effects aren't going away easily</div><figure><picture class="ResponsiveImagePicture-jJiTGL jyYsQg lead-asset__media responsive-image"><source media="(max-width: 767px)" srcset="https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/1:1/w_120, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 120w, https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/1:1/w_240, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 240w, https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/1:1/w_320, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 320w, https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/1:1/w_640, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 640w, https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/1:1/w_960, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 960w" sizes="100vw"><source media="(min-width: 768px)" srcset="https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/16:9/w_120, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 120w, https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/16:9/w_240, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 240w, https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/16:9/w_320, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 320w, https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/16:9/w_640, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 640w, https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/16:9/w_960, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 960w, https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/16:9/w_1280, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 1280w, https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/16:9/w_1600, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 1600w, https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/16:9/w_1920, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 1920w, https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/16:9/w_2240, https://www.wired.co.uk/article/c_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg 2240w" sizes="100vw"><img alt="Image may contain Advertisement Collage Poster Human Person Rachid Badouri Sinan Bolat Screen and Electronics" src="https://media.wired.co.uk/photos/6127b319ae888fc001960d50/16:9/w_2560%2Cc_limit/GettyImages-1213056777.jpeg" width="689" height="387"></picture><figcaption dir="auto">GETTY IMAGES / FRANCK FIFE</figcaption></figure>Last summer, when clinics began to tentatively reopen, dermatologist Shadi Kourosh noticed a worrying trend – a spike in appointment requests for appearance-related issues. “It seemed that at a time like that other matters would be top of mind, but a lot of people were really concerned with feeling that they looked much worse than usual,” she says.Kourosh, who is an assistant professor of dermatology at Harvard Medical School, soon discovered that others in her field and related ones such as plastic surgery had noticed a similar phenomenon. And when she and her colleagues asked patients what was driving their decision to seek treatment, a lot of them cited video-conferencing. The pandemic had catapulted them into a world of Zoom calls and Teams meetings, and staring at their own face on a screen all day every day was wreaking havoc with their self-image.In the age of Zoom, people became inordinately preoccupied with sagging skin around their neck and jowls; with the size and shape of their nose; with the pallor of their skin. They wanted cosmetic interventions, ranging from Botox and fillers to face-lifts and nose jobs. Kourosh and colleagues surveyed doctors and surgeons, examining the question of whether video-conferencing during the pandemic was a potential contributor to body dysmorphic disorder. They called it ‘<a data-offer-url="https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/fpsam.2020.0454" data-event-click="{&quot;element&quot;:&quot;ExternalLink&quot;,&quot;outgoingURL&quot;:&quot;https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/fpsam.2020.0454&quot;}" href="https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/fpsam.2020.0454" rel="nofollow noopener" dir="ltr">Zoom dysmorphia</a>’.Now, with the rise in vaccinations seemingly pushing the pandemic into retreat, new research from Kourosh’s group at Harvard has revealed that Zoom dysmorphia isn’t going away. A survey of more than 7,000 people suggests the mental scars of the coronavirus will stay with us for some time.Even before Covid, plastic surgeons and dermatologists were seeing a rise in patients coming to them with demands that were “unrealistic and unnatural,” Kourosh says. The term ‘<a data-offer-url="https://www.everydayhealth.com/wellness/united-states-of-stress/what-snapchat-dysmorphia-detailed-look-trend/" data-event-click="{&quot;element&quot;:&quot;ExternalLink&quot;,&quot;outgoingURL&quot;:&quot;https://www.everydayhealth.com/wellness/united-states-of-stress/what-snapchat-dysmorphia-detailed-look-trend/&quot;}" href="https://www.everydayhealth.com/wellness/united-states-of-stress/what-snapchat-dysmorphia-detailed-look-trend/" rel="nofollow noopener" dir="ltr">Snapchat dysmorphia</a>’ was coined in 2015 to describe the growing numbers of people who wanted to look like they’d been put through a face-altering filter in real life, all big eyes and sparkling skin.&nbsp;Before that, a patient might turn up at a plastic surgeon’s office with photos of a celebrity they wanted to look like clipped from a magazine. Even before the rise of social media, psychologists found that people who stared at themselves in a mirror <a data-offer-url="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/21726855/" data-event-click="{&quot;element&quot;:&quot;ExternalLink&quot;,&quot;outgoingURL&quot;:&quot;https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/21726855/&quot;}" href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/21726855/" rel="nofollow noopener" dir="ltr">became more self-conscious</a>.But Zoom dysmorphia is different. Unlike with Snapchat, where people are aware that they’re viewing themselves through a filter, video conferencing distorts our appearance in ways we might not even realise, as Kourosh and her co-authors identified in their original paper.Front-facing cameras distort your image, like a “funhouse mirror,” she says – they make noses look bigger and eyes look smaller. This effect is exacerbated by proximity to the lens, which is generally nearer to you than a person would ever stand in a real life conversation. Looking down at a smartphone or laptop camera is the least flattering angle – as anyone from the MySpace generation will tell you the best camera position is from above, hence the ubiquity of the selfie stick.&nbsp;We’re also used to seeing our own reflection when our faces are relaxed – the concentrated frown (or bored expression) you wear in a Zoom meeting jars with the image of yourself you’re used to seeing in the mirror. “Changes in self-perception and anxiety as a result of constant video-conferencing may lead to unnecessary cosmetic procedures, especially in young adults who have had increased exposure to online platforms including videoconferencing, social media, and filters throughout the pandemic,” write Kourosh, Channi Silence and other colleagues.The term ‘Zoom dysmorphia’ was picked up by international media, and Kourosh was inundated with emails from friends and strangers who it resonated with. In the new follow up study due to be published in the <a data-offer-url="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2352647521001027?dgcid=raven_sd_aip_email" data-event-click="{&quot;element&quot;:&quot;ExternalLink&quot;,&quot;outgoingURL&quot;:&quot;https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2352647521001027?dgcid=raven_sd_aip_email&quot;}" href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2352647521001027?dgcid=raven_sd_aip_email" rel="nofollow noopener" dir="ltr">International Journal of Women’s Dermatology</a>, the research group found that 71 per cent of the 7,000 people surveyed were anxious or stressed about returning to in-person activities, and that nearly 64 per cent had sought mental health support.Three in ten said they planned to invest in their appearance as a coping strategy to deal with returning to in-person events –&nbsp;with concerns about weight gain, skin discolouration, wrinkles and acne particularly high on the list – all things that may have been exacerbated by the amount of time spent on Zoom. “The people who spent more time had a worsened self-perception of their own appearance,” Kourosh says. Those who spent more time staring into the “technological mirror” expressed more anxiety, and among 18 to 24 year olds, it was the ones using filters who were most likely to have accessed mental health services.During the pandemic, the fun house mirror of Zoom twisted the images being reflected back to us, and at the same time, although trapped inside, we were still bombarded with edited images on social media and on television. These factors combined had a damaging impact on self-perception, anxiety and mental health – and it’s not going away.But the best way to fight Zoom dysmorphia is through awareness, Kourosh argues. She says she had an overwhelming number of comments from people who thought they were alone in feeling like there was something wrong with appearance during the pandemic. “A lot of people are suffering from the negative mental health impacts quietly,” Kourosh says. It is, she says, about “helping people know they’re not alone”.<div role="heading" aria-level="4">More great stories from WIRED</div><UL><LI>💼 Sign-up to WIRED’s business briefing: <a href="https://www.wired.co.uk/newsletters/work-smarter?itm_campaign=BottomRelatedStories&amp;itm_content=footer-recirc" dir="ltr">Get Work Smarter</a></LI><LI>A radical plan to treat Covid’s <a href="https://www.wired.co.uk/article/social-prescribing?itm_campaign=BottomRelatedStories&amp;itm_content=footer-recirc" dir="ltr">mental health fallout</a></LI><LI>Apple and Google still have a problem with <a href="https://www.wired.co.uk/article/apple-google-lgbtq-apps?itm_campaign=BottomRelatedStories&amp;itm_content=footer-recirc" dir="ltr">LGBTQ apps</a></LI><LI>The UK is about to hit its <a href="https://www.wired.co.uk/article/covid-vaccine-ceiling-uk?itm_campaign=BottomRelatedStories&amp;itm_content=footer-recirc" dir="ltr">Covid vaccine ceiling</a></LI><LI>They wanted big balls. This startup <a href="https://www.wired.co.uk/article/microbiome-testicles-umzu?itm_campaign=BottomRelatedStories&amp;itm_content=footer-recirc" dir="ltr">said it could help</a></LI></UL>

Eighteen months of using front-facing cameras has distorted our self-image – and a new study reveals that the effects aren't going away easily

Understand yourself and those around you.

psychology

Psychology

mentalhealth

Mental Health

Last summer, when clinics began to tentatively reopen, dermatologist Shadi Kourosh noticed a worrying trend – a spike in appointment requests for appearance-related issues. “It seemed that at a time like that other matters would be top of mind, but a lot of people were really concerned with feeling that they looked much worse than usual,” she says.

Kourosh, who is an assistant professor of dermatology at Harvard Medical School, soon discovered that others in her field and related ones such as plastic surgery had noticed a similar phenomenon. And when she and her colleagues asked patients what was driving their decision to seek treatment, a lot of them cited video-conferencing. The pandemic had catapulted them into a world of Zoom calls and Teams meetings, and staring at their own face on a screen all day every day was wreaking havoc with their self-image.

In the age of Zoom, people became inordinately preoccupied with sagging skin around their neck and jowls; with the size and shape of their nose; with the pallor of their skin. They wanted cosmetic interventions, ranging from Botox and fillers to face-lifts and nose jobs. Kourosh and colleagues surveyed doctors and surgeons, examining the question of whether video-conferencing during the pandemic was a potential contributor to body dysmorphic disorder. They called it ‘<a data-event-click='{"element":"ExternalLink","outgoingURL":"https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/fpsam.2020.0454"}' data-offer-url="https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/fpsam.2020.0454" dir="ltr" href="https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/fpsam.2020.0454" rel="nofollow noopener">Zoom dysmorphia </a>’.

Now, with the rise in vaccinations seemingly pushing the pandemic into retreat, new research from Kourosh’s group at Harvard has revealed that Zoom dysmorphia isn’t going away. A survey of more than 7,000 people suggests the mental scars of the coronavirus will stay with us for some time.

Even before Covid, plastic surgeons and dermatologists were seeing a rise in patients coming to them with demands that were “unrealistic and unnatural,” Kourosh says. The term ‘<a data-event-click='{"element":"ExternalLink","outgoingURL":"https://www.everydayhealth.com/wellness/united-states-of-stress/what-snapchat-dysmorphia-detailed-look-trend/"}' data-offer-url="https://www.everydayhealth.com/wellness/united-states-of-stress/what-snapchat-dysmorphia-detailed-look-trend/" dir="ltr" href="https://www.everydayhealth.com/wellness/united-states-of-stress/what-snapchat-dysmorphia-detailed-look-trend/" rel="nofollow noopener">Snapchat dysmorphia </a>’ was coined in 2015 to describe the growing numbers of people who wanted to look like they’d been put through a face-altering filter in real life, all big eyes and sparkling skin.

Before that, a patient might turn up at a plastic surgeon’s office with photos of a celebrity they wanted to look like clipped from a magazine. Even before the rise of social media, psychologists found that people who stared at themselves in a mirror <a data-event-click='{"element":"ExternalLink","outgoingURL":"https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/21726855/"}' data-offer-url="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/21726855/" dir="ltr" href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/21726855/" rel="nofollow noopener">became more self-conscious </a>.

But Zoom dysmorphia is different. Unlike with Snapchat, where people are aware that they’re viewing themselves through a filter, video conferencing distorts our appearance in ways we might not even realise, as Kourosh and her co-authors identified in their original paper.

Front-facing cameras distort your image, like a “funhouse mirror,” she says – they make noses look bigger and eyes look smaller. This effect is exacerbated by proximity to the lens, which is generally nearer to you than a person would ever stand in a real life conversation. Looking down at a smartphone or laptop camera is the least flattering angle – as anyone from the MySpace generation will tell you the best camera position is from above, hence the ubiquity of the selfie stick.

We’re also used to seeing our own reflection when our faces are relaxed – the concentrated frown (or bored expression) you wear in a Zoom meeting jars with the image of yourself you’re used to seeing in the mirror. “Changes in self-perception and anxiety as a result of constant video-conferencing may lead to unnecessary cosmetic procedures, especially in young adults who have had increased exposure to online platforms including videoconferencing, social media, and filters throughout the pandemic,” write Kourosh, Channi Silence and other colleagues.

The term ‘Zoom dysmorphia’ was picked up by international media, and Kourosh was inundated with emails from friends and strangers who it resonated with. In the new follow up study due to be published in the <a data-event-click='{"element":"ExternalLink","outgoingURL":"https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2352647521001027?dgcid=raven_sd_aip_email"}' data-offer-url="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2352647521001027?dgcid=raven_sd_aip_email" dir="ltr" href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2352647521001027?dgcid=raven_sd_aip_email" rel="nofollow noopener">International Journal of Women’s Dermatology </a>, the research group found that 71 per cent of the 7,000 people surveyed were anxious or stressed about returning to in-person activities, and that nearly 64 per cent had sought mental health support.

Three in ten said they planned to invest in their appearance as a coping strategy to deal with returning to in-person events – with concerns about weight gain, skin discolouration, wrinkles and acne particularly high on the list – all things that may have been exacerbated by the amount of time spent on Zoom. “The people who spent more time had a worsened self-perception of their own appearance,” Kourosh says. Those who spent more time staring into the “technological mirror” expressed more anxiety, and among 18 to 24 year olds, it was the ones using filters who were most likely to have accessed mental health services.

During the pandemic, the fun house mirror of Zoom twisted the images being reflected back to us, and at the same time, although trapped inside, we were still bombarded with edited images on social media and on television. These factors combined had a damaging impact on self-perception, anxiety and mental health – and it’s not going away.

But the best way to fight Zoom dysmorphia is through awareness, Kourosh argues. She says she had an overwhelming number of comments from people who thought they were alone in feeling like there was something wrong with appearance during the pandemic. “A lot of people are suffering from the negative mental health impacts quietly,” Kourosh says. It is, she says, about “helping people know they’re not alone”.

<ul><li>💼 Sign-up to WIRED’s business briefing: <a dir="ltr" href="https://www.wired.co.uk/newsletters/work-smarter?itm_campaign=BottomRelatedStories&amp;itm_content=footer-recirc">Get Work Smarter </a> </li><li>A radical plan to treat Covid’s <a dir="ltr" href="https://www.wired.co.uk/article/social-prescribing?itm_campaign=BottomRelatedStories&amp;itm_content=footer-recirc">mental health fallout </a> </li><li>Apple and Google still have a problem with <a dir="ltr" href="https://www.wired.co.uk/article/apple-google-lgbtq-apps?itm_campaign=BottomRelatedStories&amp;itm_content=footer-recirc">LGBTQ apps </a> </li><li>The UK is about to hit its <a dir="ltr" href="https://www.wired.co.uk/article/covid-vaccine-ceiling-uk?itm_campaign=BottomRelatedStories&amp;itm_content=footer-recirc">Covid vaccine ceiling </a> </li><li>They wanted big balls. This startup <a dir="ltr" href="https://www.wired.co.uk/article/microbiome-testicles-umzu?itm_campaign=BottomRelatedStories&amp;itm_content=footer-recirc">said it could help </a> </li> </ul>

Zoom dysmorphia is following us into the real world

Front-facing cameras have distorted our self-image

Snapchat dysmorphia

Zoom dysmorphia

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