Just one more...

This week, I had reason to review past issues of the Gazette and could not help but notice how often we publish photos of people standing together. That repetition invites scrutiny. Why do these images recur so reliably, across so many pages and so many years, and why do they still feel necessary? What human need, exactly, is being satisfied? What are the sociological implications?

More specifically, why do we feel compelled to commemorate—both for today and for posterity—that at some point in time these individuals managed to gather in the same place, face in the same direction and produce a collection of polite, if occasionally forced, smiles?

Sports teams pose before and after seasons, tournaments, or championships, usually in uniform and on familiar ground. Professional conferences and conventions generate group photos to document attendance or affiliation. Groundbreakings and ribbon cuttings reliably culminate in a group photograph, complete with oversized scissors, hard hats or ceremonial shovels.

Politics, of course, may be the most photo-rich environment of all, with handpicked groupings selected to represent every known age, race and gender, in ways that challenge the suspension of disbelief. The images are not spontaneous. They emerge from structure, planning and a shared understanding that a moment is meant to be marked.

Sociologists tell us that group photographs quietly perform an important task. They make relationships both visible and tangible. By standing together, people publicly affirm their belonging to a recognizable group, whether a team, a board, a family or a cause.

The photograph freezes that affiliation and makes it durable, something that can be revisited and referenced long after the event itself has faded. Over time, the images accumulate into a visual record of civic life, reinforcing the idea that collective presence is part of how communities understand themselves.

There is also a quieter psychological dimension at work for the individuals in the frame. Posing for a group photograph reinforces identity through recognition. People often understand themselves through the roles they occupy, and the photo provides proof that those roles are real and acknowledged.

Science tells us that the brain responds to social belonging with small but genuine rewards. Shared rituals and public participation are associated with neurochemical processes—such as those involving oxytocin and serotonin—that reinforce trust and emotional steadiness. The moment offers reassurance without demanding the vulnerability of standing alone. No one is thinking about neurotransmitters, but the brain is quietly registering connection and completion, and those signals linger longer than the smile held for the camera.

If all of this sounds like an over-examination of the mundane (a hobby of mine), it’s worth acknowledging the humor embedded in the ritual. Behind the manufactured formality is often mild chaos. Tall people drift forward, short people disappear, someone arrives late and the photographer asks for “just one more.”

Who appears in the frame and where they stand all communicate meaning, even when no one speaks it aloud. Then time does its work. Hairstyles, clothing, and expressions age quickly, turning what once looked dignified into something faintly comic. Many of these photos exist less as memories than as evidence, proof that something happened for someone else’s records, reports or social media feed.

Ultimately, the group photo is an ongoing civic initiation ritual. It asks people to suspend individuality and perform a shared version of enthusiasm, whether they are the honoree, the intern or the person who wandered into the frame because it seemed polite. It preserves a moment that future generations will surely find amusing for reasons we cannot yet imagine.

Earnest, necessary, slightly absurd and unmistakably human, the group photo endures because it captures not just who we were, but how we chose to stand together.