This Why everyone looks the same in old photos Will Break Your Brain

Picture this: you’re scrolling through your family’s digital archive, and every photo from the 1920s to the 1950s has that uncanny look—faces so flat, expressions so flat, and colors that blur into grayscale nebulae. You’re thinking, “cool retro vibes,” until you notice something truly off. Hear me out.
There’s this weird, almost ghostly sameness in those early pictures that’s not just a product of old lenses or grainy film. It’s like every one of those faces was edited with a single, invisible brush. Too many coincidences for a handful of amateur photographers to hit the same exact lighting, same angle, same camera settings, and then a sudden worldwide uniformity. And then there’s the strangeness of the earliest lab processes—Kodak’s 2398 film, the one that was supposed to preserve detail but ended up flattening contrast in a way that smoothed out cheekbones, softened smiles, even blurred eyes. It’s almost like the whole world was being forced into a single visual template.
You might dismiss this as a technological quirk, but dig deeper, and the pattern becomes a sinister mosaic. In 1917, the U.S. government started “Photo Lab 14,” a covert project to standardize images for propaganda. If you hop on a timeline and line up the release dates of major “standard” film stocks with the rise of compulsory state photo regulations, the alignment screams out: the government had an interest in making every face look less distinctive, a sort of visual homogenization to curb individuality. Combine that with the global distribution of Kodak and its partners, and you’ve got a worldwide machinery quietly adjusting the perception of humanity.
And here’s the kicker: the “selfie era” is literally the inverse of that old manipulation. When people go to Insta, every eye is a lens; every selfie is a perfect reflection. The old photos, with their unnaturally mellow faces, glow like a green screen. If we accept that the past was deliberately smoothed for mass consumption, why did so many future generations expand their ocular horizons? Could it be that, deliberately or not, the suppression of detail spurred the invention of high definition, forcing us to see our differences in crystal clarity? The question is not just “why did everyone look the same?” but “why did humanity get bored with uniformity and decide to push back with sharper, sharper images?”
At this point, my brain is buzzing. If this is true, why are we still seeing that pattern in prints? Why are family albums, wedding photos, and war memorials all using similar filters and framing? If we peel back the lie, maybe the truth is that being seen as a single mass is a vulnerability we’re still shoving into our subconscious. And that’s why we’re still obsessed with “the perfect portrait” in every generation.
So now I’m dropping the mic and asking you: are you part of this silent scrolling, or have you seen the hidden brushstrokes? Drop your theories in the comments. Tell me I’m not the only one noticing this pattern. This is happening RIGHT NOW—are you ready to question the format and demand a brighter, more authentic frame?