Why I Left Flickr – And Why I Deleted My Account

For many years, Flickr was a place I deeply valued—a digital home for photographers, a platform to share work, discover inspiring art, and engage in thoughtful dialogue about the craft. I joined in 2007 during a time when Flickr was the place to be for serious photographers and curious hobbyists alike. But recently, I made the decision to delete my account, and I want to share why.

A Decline in Quality and Community

One of the most noticeable changes over the past few years has been the steady decline in the overall quality of images and contributions on Flickr. While there are still excellent artists on the platform, their work is now lost in a sea of clutter—random uploads, spammy content, and uninspiring snapshots. The strong curatorial feel that once defined Flickr has slowly faded.

More importantly, what once felt like a vibrant, supportive, and thoughtful community of photographers has grown quiet. Meaningful interaction—constructive comments, real dialogue about technique or vision, genuine appreciation for one another’s work—is rare. For a platform built on community, that absence is telling.

A Pro Account with No Real Value

For a long time, I paid for a Pro account, hopeful that the subscription would unlock features or benefits meaningful to serious photographers. But apart from some questionable “perks” and discounts on unrelated services, the Pro account offered little to justify the investment. In a time when other platforms offer more dynamic interaction, better curation tools, and stronger security—often for free—the Pro model felt outdated.

Image Theft and Misuse

Another tipping point for me was the unauthorized use of my work. Several of my images, particularly concert photos like those of Johnny Guitar Watson performing live in Leverkusen, were stolen and used for commercial purposes without permission or credit. Despite reporting these violations, enforcement was weak to nonexistent. As a photographer, protecting my work is non-negotiable, and Flickr offered neither the tools nor the deterrence to prevent this kind of abuse.

A Shrinking Audience

Let’s be honest: the photography community on Flickr is shrinking. Many of the people I followed and engaged with have already left. Some migrated to Instagram, others to more niche platforms like Behance, 1x or Foto, and many simply stopped sharing their work online altogether. With fewer active users, fewer quality uploads, and less feedback, it became increasingly clear: the platform no longer serves its original purpose.

Other Reasons Photographers Are Leaving Flickr

While these are my personal reasons, I’ve heard similar stories from others in the photographic community. Here are a few more that resonate:

Lack of innovation: Flickr hasn’t evolved meaningfully in years. Features remain clunky, the interface feels dated, and new tools for showcasing or protecting work are slow to arrive.
Poor mobile experience: In a mobile-first world, Flickr’s app still feels like an afterthought. Browsing, uploading, and interacting via smartphone is far from intuitive.
No algorithmic discovery: Unlike newer platforms that help users discover relevant content based on interests and engagement, Flickr relies on outdated group and tagging systems. This makes it difficult to find and be found.
Platform fatigue: With so many social networks competing for attention, many photographers are consolidating where they show their work, and Flickr rarely makes the cut anymore.

The Bottom Line

In the end, the decision to leave Flickr came down to this: it no longer brings value to me—neither professionally nor creatively. The connection, visibility, inspiration, and protection that I seek as a photographer can be found elsewhere, or built independently through my own website and networks.

Flickr was once a beautiful space. I’ll always be grateful for the connections I made and the inspiration I found there. But as with all things digital, evolution is essential. And sometimes, letting go is part of that evolution.

If you're reading this and feeling similarly disillusioned with Flickr—or any platform—remember that your work deserves to be seen, respected, and protected. Whether it's through your own site, a curated print portfolio, or selective sharing elsewhere, there are better options out there.

Curious where I’m focusing my efforts now? Stick around here—I’ll be sharing more updates, insights, and work directly on my own terms.

The image of Johnyy Guitar Watson from 1995 at Leverkusen Bluesfestival that is used on dozends of websites and record covers without giving credit to me.