By Qamardeen Adeyemi

A. Understanding the Concept

The increasing difficulty of living without imagining an audience is something unusual about being human in the digital age. A person can be physically alone and still feel socially observed. A meal can become a photograph; a journey can become a story; an achievement can become an announcement; a charitable act can become documentation; a religious reflection can become a post; even moments of sadness, vulnerability and grief can become material for public consumption. The result is not that we are more visible, but that the possibility of being seen can begin to influence how we live. By exemplification, this is not about experiencing an achievement but about how to present it. It is not about forming opinions but imagining how those opinions will affect our reputation. Also, it is not simply to practise religion but to become conscious of how religious we appear. This is the weight of being seen.

The problem, however, is not visibility itself. Human beings have always lived before other people. Islam does not demand social disappearance. Muslims teach, trade, lead, marry, serve communities, engage in public affairs and encourage one another openly. The Qur’an itself recognises that openly giving charity can be good, while concealing it can be better in certain circumstances (Qur’an 2:271). It should, however, be kept in mind that the preferability of observing secrecy is a matter of principle. The problem begins when being seen becomes a condition for feeling valuable, or when the gaze of people begins to influence actions that should ultimately be directed towards Allah.

Islam has developed vocabulary for understanding this tension. ‘An-Niyyah’ refers to intention. ‘Ikhlas’ refers to sincerity and purity of purpose. ‘Riya ’ refers particularly to showing off in acts of worship or goodness to be seen and praised. ‘Muraqabah’ refers to the consciousness that Allah observes His servant. These concepts give us a trigger for examining what it means to live authentically in an age in which presentation has become almost inseparable from ordinary life.

This distinction was already visible in classical Islamic thought. Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) said: “Actions are judged by intentions, and every person will have only what he intended…” (Sahih al-Bukhari, 1; Sahih Muslim, 1907). The hadith is foundational precisely because the external appearance of an action does not exhaust its meaning. The same action can have different moral and spiritual value depending upon what the person intended (Ibn Rajab, Jami’ al-‘Ulum wa al-Hikam). The Qur’an similarly says: “Whoever hopes for the meeting with his Lord, let him do righteous work and not associate anyone in the worship of his Lord.” (Qur’an 18:110). Thus, Islamic authenticity is not simply about whether the outside matches the inside, but whether the inside and outside are increasingly aligned with truth and with one’s accountability to Allah.

B. Present Realities, Psychology and Philosophy

The modern environment makes this particularly alarming because digital platforms have transformed the relationship between the individual and the audience. In ordinary face-to-face life, people behave differently depending on who is present. A person speaks differently to a parent, a close friend, a colleague, a stranger or a religious teacher. Digital platforms collapse many of these audiences into one. Communication scholars describe this phenomenon as ‘context collapse’, meaning previously separate social groups become part of one audience. Research examining 6,378 Facebook users found that the size and heterogeneity of users’ networks were associated with changes in their self-presentation and language, consistent with the idea that people manage their online identities in response to imagined audiences (Krämer & Haferkamp, 2018). This helps explain a familiar experience. Someone may want to say something honestly but stop because a colleague might see it. They may want to admit uncertainty but hesitate because their followers expect expertise. They may want to share a difficult reality but fear that it contradicts the image they have built.

The audience does not have to speak. Its imagined presence is enough. The result can be a subtle form of self-surveillance, beginning to observe ourselves through the eyes of others. Social media also encourages what researchers describe as ‘idealised self-presentation’. People select favourable moments, remove undesirable ones and present information that supports the identity they want others to perceive. This does not necessarily mean that the resulting identity is false; in many cases, it may simply be incomplete. The problem is that a person can eventually become more familiar with the version of themselves they present than with the person they are. The profile becomes polished, but the private life remains complicated; the caption sounds confident, but the person is uncertain; the photograph communicates happiness, but the person is exhausted; the religious reminder is profound, but the heart is struggling; the professional profile communicates achievement, but the person privately feels like a failure. This gap between presentation and experience is one of the central psychological dimensions of performance culture.

Interestingly, research does not suggest that all online self-expression is harmful. Bailey et al. (2020), analysing 10,560 Facebook users and conducting a longitudinal experiment, found that more authentic self-expression was associated with greater life satisfaction and, experimentally, with more positive affect and mood compared with more self-idealised posting. The important point is not that “social media is bad” or that “authenticity solves everything.” Rather, the research suggests that the psychological burden can increase when there is a persistent discrepancy between the self one experiences and the self one presents. This gives contemporary psychology an interesting point of contact with Islamic ethics.

The Philosophy of the Gaze

Islam has long been concerned with the danger of becoming divided between outward appearance and inward reality. The philosopher and sociologist Erving Goffman famously analysed social interaction through the language of performance. In The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life (1959), he described how individuals manage impressions and present themselves differently depending on social circumstances. The metaphor is particularly useful for the digital age. A person may have a “front stage”, the version presented to the public, and a “back stage”, the environment in which the person can relax the performance. The digital age complicates this distinction because the front stage can follow us everywhere. There may no longer be a clear moment when the audience disappears. There is a difference between being conscious of oneself and being consumed by oneself. Islam redirects this self-consciousness toward awareness of Allah. The Qur’an says: “He is with you wherever you are. And Allah is Seeing of what you do.” (Qur’an 57:4). And Allah says: “Whether you speak secretly or openly, He surely knows best what is hidden in the heart.” (Qur’an 67:13). The believer therefore lives under a gaze, but not the gaze of people.

C. Past Realities, Scholars, Lives and Scenarios

The concern with being seen is not new. What is new is the technological scale at which it can occur. The classical Islamic tradition spent considerable intellectual and spiritual energy examining the heart’s relationship with recognition, reputation and praise.

Intention and the Unstable Heart
Sufyan al-Thawri, one of the great early scholars, is reported to have said: “I have not treated anything more difficult than my intention, because it keeps changing.” The statement is reported through early works on sincerity, including Ibn Abi d-Dunya’s al-Ikhlas wa an-Niyyah, and is also transmitted by later scholars (Ibn Abi d-Dunya, al-Ikhlas wa an-Niyyah; Ibn Rajab, Jami’ al-‘Ulum wa al-Hikam). The observation is important because sincerity is sometimes treated as though it were a permanent state. It is not. A person can begin an action sincerely and then become pleased when people notice. A person can initially dislike praise but gradually become dependent upon it. A person can perform an act privately and later feel disappointed that nobody knows about it. The heart moves. This is why sincerity requires continual examination rather than a single declaration. Ibn al-Mubarak is also reported to have said: “Perhaps a small action is made great by its intention, and perhaps a great action is made small by its intention.” (Ibn Abi d-Dunya, al-Ikhlas wa an-Niyyah). The statement captures the fundamental Islamic concern, which is that the spiritual weight of an action cannot be measured solely by its outward size.

The Qur’anic Warning Against Performing for People

The Qur’an is explicit about the danger. Allah warns against giving charity so that people will see it (Qur’an 2:264). He describes hypocrites who stand for prayer only to be seen by the people (Qur’an 4:142). He also commands believers not to claim purity for themselves because Allah knows best who is truly mindful of Him (Qur’an 53:32). These verses show that Islam is not impressed by appearance alone. A beautiful public image can conceal an unhealthy heart. A large charitable project can contain mixed motives. A religious speech can coexist with a hunger for recognition. A person’s public identity can be impressive while their private relationship with Allah is weak. This does not mean we should automatically accuse others of hypocrisy. That would itself be a serious error. Rather, these teachings are primarily an invitation to self-examination.

Riya’ and the Audience

The Prophet gave an explicit warning: “He who lets the people hear of his good deeds intentionally, to win their praise, Allah will let the people know his real intention; and he who does good things in public to show off and win the praise of the people, Allah will disclose his real intention.” (Sahih al-Bukhari, 6499). This hadith is particularly relevant to the age of social media because it distinguishes between publicity and showing off. Publicity is not automatically riya’. The determining issue is the purpose of the action. A person may teach publicly for the benefit of others, a charity may publicise its activities for accountability, an organisation may need visibility to raise funds, a Muslim may share a beneficial reminder because someone else may benefit from it. The distinction is therefore not “public equals bad, private equals good.” It means public action can be sincere; private action can also be insincere. The decisive question is the intention.

The Islamic tradition contains numerous reports about people whose good deeds were deliberately hidden. A well-known report tells of Abu Bakr and an elderly blind woman in Madinah. The report states that Umar ibn al-Khattab used to care for her at night, only to discover that Abu Bakr was already doing so. Ibn ‘Asakir recorded the report, although later hadith scholars have noted that its chain is extremely weak. It should therefore be presented as a historical anecdote, not as established hadith (Ibn ‘Asakir, Tarikh Dimashq). Its weakness as a hadith does not make it useless as historical literature, provided it is represented honestly. The broader ideal is firmly established by authentic revelation. The Prophet described among those who will receive Allah’s shade on the Day of Resurrection: a person who gives charity so secretly that one hand does not know what the other has given. (Sahih Muslim, 1031a). The image is almost the opposite of contemporary performance culture. No audience, photograph, public recognition, or social media reaction; only the servant and Allah.

Scholars and the Fear of Praise

Imam al-Ghazali devoted extensive attention to the love of status and showing off in Ihya’ ‘Ulum al-Din. He mentions the ways religious people can become attached to the admiration associated with knowledge, worship and piety (al-Ghazali, Ihya’ ‘Ulum al-Din, Book of the Condemnation of Love of Status and Showing Off). This is important because riya’ is not always loud. The disease is therefore not limited to obvious boasting. Ibn al-Qayyim similarly discusses sincerity as the purification of one’s action from competing motives in Madarij al-Salikin. The question is, for whom is this action ultimately being performed?

Fudayl ibn ‘Iyad and the Danger of People Controlling Us

Fudayl ibn ‘Iyad is reported to have said: “Leaving an action for the sake of people is showing off, and doing an action for the sake of people is associating partners; sincerity is that Allah protects you from both.” The statement is cited in classical discussions of sincerity and intention (Ibn Rajab, Jami’ al-‘Ulum wa al-Hikam). This is a point that is especially relevant today. Suppose someone wants to give charity but notices that another person is watching. If the person then refuses to give solely because they fear being considered insincere, the audience has still influenced the action. The solution is not to stop doing good whenever people are watching. It is to correct the intention and proceed. This is why the Islamic goal is not invisibility, but freedom from dependence upon the audience.
Poetry and the Instability of Worldly Recognition

Islamic poetry has also frequently reflected upon the temporary nature of worldly status. The pre-Islamic poet, Labid ibn Rabi’ah, is particularly important because the Prophet (PBUH) himself said: “The truest words spoken by a poet are the words of Labid: ‘Everything besides Allah is perishing.'” (Sahih al-Bukhari, 3841; Sahih Muslim, 2256). The line is relevant to the culture of visibility because it places worldly things, including status and reputation, within their proper perspective.

Abu al-‘Atahiya, the Abbasid ascetic poet, similarly became known for poetry about mortality, the instability of worldly life and the danger of excessive attachment to it. Modern literary scholarship identifies asceticism and reflection on death as major themes in his poetry (Ridha, Mohamedamin, & Saeed, 2022). One of his famous ascetic verses expresses the idea that this world is not a permanent abode and that its pleasures are mixed with hardship.

A third poetic narration frequently attributed to Imam al-Shafi’i concerns the impossibility of satisfying every person. Such verses circulate widely under his name, although attribution varies in the sources; they should therefore be cited as poetry attributed to al-Shafi’i, not as a definitively authenticated statement by him. The lesson is that if a person builds his emotional stability entirely upon public approval, he has built upon something inherently unstable.

D. Challenges, Impacts and Consequences

The culture of being seen creates several interconnected challenges. Some are psychological, others are spiritual, and many are social. The most serious emerge when they reinforce one another.

The Burden of Maintaining an Image
The first consequence is exhaustion. A person who constantly curates an identity must continually protect it. If I have built a reputation for always knowing the answer, admitting ignorance becomes difficult. If I have built a reputation for being exceptionally religious, admitting spiritual weakness becomes embarrassing. If I have built a reputation for success, acknowledging failure becomes threatening. The person becomes trapped by the image. The public identity that once served them now demands that they serve it. This creates a gap between the person one is and the person one must appear to be.

Comparison and Dissatisfaction

Performance culture also changes the way people evaluate their own lives. A person does not simply compare their life with another person’s life. They compare their ordinary life with another person’s edited highlights. This can produce dissatisfaction even when the person’s life is objectively good. The Qur’an warns against excessive longing for what others have: “Do not wish for that by which Allah has made some of you exceed others.” (Qur’an 4:32). The verse is broader than social media, but its principle is highly relevant to the comparison culture of the present. A person can spend hours looking at other people’s marriages, careers, bodies, houses, travels, friendships and achievements and gradually become dissatisfied with blessings that previously seemed sufficient. The audience becomes a measuring instrument.

The Loss of Private Goodness

Another consequence is the erosion of private religious life. If everything becomes public, a person may begin to experience religion primarily through public expression. They post reminders but neglect private reflection. They speak about charity but fail to develop private generosity. They discuss patience but struggle to practise it when nobody is watching.

They publish Qur’anic verses but do not cultivate a private relationship with the Qur’an. They become religiously visible without necessarily becoming spiritually deeper. This is one of the most serious dangers of a highly performative religious culture. The public religious identity can grow faster than the private religious reality. The Prophet’s warning about the man who acquired and taught knowledge for the sake of being called knowledgeable demonstrates that religious activity itself is not protected from the disease of seeking recognition (Sahih Muslim, 1905).

When Worship Becomes Content

This is perhaps the most delicate modern question. Should Muslims never post acts of worship? No. Should Muslims never document charity? No. Should Islamic organisations avoid publicity? No. The more useful question is what happens when the content begins to determine the worship? A person may begin thinking about the photograph before thinking about the deed. A charitable project may be designed partly around what will look impressive. A religious reminder may be selected because it will generate engagement. A pilgrimage may become a visual identity too. Again, none of these possibilities proves insincerity in any particular individual, but they preview why digital visibility creates an additional test for intention.

The Danger of Religious Branding

There is also a particular danger for Muslims involved in public religious work. A person can gradually confuse serving Islam with being known as someone who serves Islam. The first is directed outward toward Allah’s pleasure and the community’s benefit. The second can become centred upon identity. This can produce defensiveness. The person cannot accept criticism because criticism threatens the image. They cannot admit mistakes because mistakes threaten authority. They cannot say “I don’t know” because their audience expects knowledge. They cannot apologise because their public persona requires certainty. The more elaborate the religious image, the more difficult it can become to admit ordinary human weakness. Yet Islam does not require Muslims to pretend to be flawless. The Qur’an says: “So do not claim yourselves to be pure; He is most knowing of who is mindful of Him.” (Qur’an 53:32). Authenticity therefore includes the courage to acknowledge one’s limitations.
Reputation becomes a form of dependence
There is nothing inherently wrong with having a good reputation. Trust matters, credibility matters, professionalism matters; a person’s reputation can affect whether people trust them with responsibility. The problem is when reputation becomes the source of identity. A person who depends upon praise becomes vulnerable to praise. A person who depends upon criticism for direction becomes vulnerable to criticism. The early Muslim concern with sincerity was therefore not a rejection of public life, but an attempt to protect the heart from becoming enslaved to the opinions of creation.

E. Conclusion

The problem of our age is not simply that people show too much, but that being seen can gradually become part of how people understand their own worth. The audience moves from outside the person to inside the person. Eventually, a person can begin living as though there is always someone watching. This produces a strange form of captivity.

The person is free to choose what to post but increasingly constrained by the identity they have built; free to speak, but afraid of contradicting the image; free to worship but tempted to display the worship; free to succeed, but unable to enjoy an achievement without announcing it. Islam presents another possibility. It does not demand that Muslims abandon public life, nor does it declare all visibility to be riya’. Instead, it reminds us of a sincerity question, asking ourselves, “For whom did I do this?”

The Qur’an warns against giving ‘sadaqah’ just to be seen (2:264), while acknowledging that public charity can still be good (2:271). The Prophet (PBUH) teaches that deeds are judged according to intentions (Bukhari, 1), warns against deliberately seeking people’s praise through good deeds (Bukhari, 6499), and describes the severe consequences of performing religious deeds for reputation (Muslim, 1905). He also praises the person whose charity remains hidden and the person who remembers Allah alone and weeps (Muslim, 1031a).

The classical scholars understood the difficulty related to being seen. Also, the historical tradition preserved stories of Muslims who cultivated goodness precisely when nobody was watching. The modern world has made this struggle more visible. The audience is now potentially enormous. The performance can be continuous. The record can be permanent. The comparison can be endless. The pressure can follow us into our bedrooms. Muslims today need a theology of public conduct and a spiritual discipline of interiority. We need private lives, private worship, private charity, private repentance, and private conversations with Allah. We need spaces in which we are not building a profile. We need deeds that cannot be converted into content. We need moments in which the only audience is Allah. The Prophet said:
“Allah does not look at your faces and your wealth, but He looks at your hearts and your deeds.” (Sahih Muslim, 2564c). That hadith provides perhaps the clearest conclusion to the entire discussion. The answer, therefore, is not to never be seen, but to stop needing to be seen.

Qamardeen Adeyemi
Communications & Data