How Instagram is ruining the environment

After a winter of uncommonly heavy rains, spring broke in southern California to the sight of sprawling blooms of wildflowers. Too good a backdrop to miss, some 50,000 people flocked to the area in search of the perfect shot. Where the delicate poppies were trampled, picked and crushed by reclining posers, they won't grow back. It doesn't take much to destroy places of natural beauty.

What used to be a local family hangout overlooking the Colorado River near the Grand Canyon has become one of the most instagrammed places in the US. Horsehoe Bend has gone from attracting a few thousand to a couple of million visitors annually. Car parks are being expanded to accommodate the throngs who clog up trails and cause traffic congestion in a remote place.

Soon after local photographer Johannes Holzer posted a photo of the Bavarian lake near where he grew up, Instagrammers descended. In an interview with German broadcaster Bayrischer Rundfunk, he said the path down to the lake now looks like it has been trampled by soldiers. It is also littered with trash and cigarette butts and is no longer a place of solitude. His take-away? No more geo-tagging.

When a tiny Austrian village of just 700 inhabitants was hyped as a perfect Instagram backdrop, an average of 80 tourist buses and 10,000 visitors started pouring in every day. Locals complain that tourists walk into their properties to find the best possible angle for their photographs, leave trash behind, film with drones that scare off birds, and generally destroy the peace and quiet.

Playa Jardín on the Spanish island of Tenerife is a popular spot among photographers who build little towers with stones collected from the beach nearby. Their designs might make for good shots, but because the spiders, insects and lizards that live under the stones lose their shelter when they're removed from the beach, the towers actually damage the local ecosystem.

What's more, plant organisms essential to the health of the ground are uprooted when the position of the stones is changed. That led environmentalists to dismantle the rock formations earlier this year, posting explanations on Instagram under the hashtag #pasasinhuella, meaning "leave no trace." Just a few days after the campaign, Instagrammers had already started rebuilding the stone towers.

Named for its dead algae that resembles a popular snack, "Popcorn Beach" on the Canary Island of Fuerteventura has gained traction among the Instagram set. But so many people have started taking the algae home as memorabilia that an estimated 10 kilos is disappearing every month. In response, The Clean Ocean Project has started sharing photos like this on Instagram.

With more than 10 million images on Instagram, Iceland has become a very popular destination for influencers. But to get the perfect shot, many drive off road, which damages the countryside. They sit on glaciers, walk on moss that can die if trampled, and fly drones over wild animals. The tourist board Visit Iceland has now launched several initiatives promoting responsible behavior by tourists.

The anonymous Instagram account Public Lands Hate You is part of a trend to shame irresponsible behavior. The account reposts images of people breaking the rules outdoors, which has prompted brands to break with some of the influencers and has even led to investigations from US national park services. But it has also garnered criticism for naming people without their consent.