How US writer-photographer Brandon Stanton created Humans of New York

As Stanton collected thousands of portraits, his journey evolved. Initially, he included short quotes in photo captions — some humorous, some heart-breaking — offering a fleeting glimpse into the lives of random persons. His early captions were brief, cautious, and superficial since he feared invading their privacy, unsure of the boundaries between him and his subjects. However, over time, conversations deepened, became longer. His questions grew more intimate. People, he discovered, welcomed the chance to share their stories. Many even felt honoured that someone ‘cared enough to listen’.

The Lives of Others

Stanton spent hours on bustling sidewalks, lending an ear to the events that shaped ordinary people’s lives, trying to understand who they were, where they came from. There were times, when some people revealed secrets they had never confided in anyone else. This shift towards intimacy defined HONY’s distinctive style. As the project gained millions of followers on social media, it became evident that its appeal transcended New York City — it was about the people and their individual stories. Stanton realised this universal appeal and took his project overseas, travelling to different countries, interviewing hundreds with the help of interpreters, maintaining the same candid approach.

Over the years, HONY transitioned from a collection of photographs into a platform for deeply personal stories, often presented in the subjects’ own words. These narratives — of resilience and redemption — spanned a wide spectrum of human experiences such as bullying, divorce, mental illness, sex, and body image. Today, with nearly 30 million followers across social media platforms and an estimated net worth of about $47.76 million, HONY has transformed into a cultural touchstone, and a lifeline for countless individuals. With at least four bestselling books featuring the stories of diverse people to his name, Stanton has become a ‘one-man philanthropy machine’ lording over an ‘empire of empathy,’ as The New York Magazine described him.

The Approach

“The creation of Humans of New York has always felt like a mixture of art and door-to-door salesmanship. The interview is the fun part. The conversations are always interesting, and people seem to enjoy the process once it’s under way. And since every person has had their share of battles and triumphs, it’s usually not hard to learn a good story from a willing participant,” Stanton writes in Humans (2020), a collection of HONY stories. “What can be difficult is finding someone who is willing to share. The toughest part of my job has always been getting people to stop for a moment. To give me a chance. Because most people hate being stopped on the street — especially in big cities, where being stopped normally means you’re being sold something,” he writes.

Stanton understands that regardless of his approach or the words he chooses, rejection is a part of the journey. Some days, no one may agree to participate. Timing plays a role; a hurried or troubled moment may lead to refusals that transform into acceptance when circumstances change. Often, parks become his favoured backdrop because people are more approachable in relaxed settings. In cities, people often shield themselves from unwanted interactions. Breaking through this shield — a defence mechanism born of urban living and fear — has always been Stanton’s challenge. He believes that the approach is the linchpin of his work. It’s about reaching the person behind the shield and revealing their true selves. Behind those barriers lie shared experiences, struggles, worries, pain, and vulnerabilities — the aspects that connect us as humans, waiting to be seen and shared.

The Spark of Change

Born in 1984, Stanton‘s journey to becoming the creator of HONY was far from a conventional one. At the age of 26, he found himself at a crossroads, having flunked out of the University of Georgia during his freshman year. It was during this period of introspection that he picked up a copy of Walter Isaacson’s biography of Benjamin Franklin, where he stumbled upon Franklin’s aphorism: ‘Genius without education is like silver in the mine.’ This maxim sparked a change within Stanton. Determined to educate himself, he established a rigorous daily routine. He committed to jogging for 30 minutes each day and started reading voraciously, primarily biographies of powerful men, including American sages, statesmen; also, of figures such as Adolf Hitler and Joseph Stalin.

After re-enrolling at the University of Georgia and eventually graduating, Stanton secured a job as a bond trader in Chicago, a profession that his parents approved of. However, his penchant for high-risk trades led to financial setbacks when the markets cooled. In search of a new direction, Stanton used the $3,300 he had won in a football betting pool to purchase a camera, even though he had never taken a photography class. It was this serendipitous decision that would set the stage for the birth of Humans of New York. In his recent interview to Lisa Miller in The New York Magazine, Stanton shares that his journey was not without its challenges.

On December 11, 2011, he found himself bedridden with the avian flu, a setback that only fuelled his determination to continue his project. However, it was a life-altering event in late 2020 that reshaped his perspective on life. While on vacation in the Smoky Mountains, he experienced excruciating pain in his left arm; doctors suspected a life-threatening autoimmune disease. Confronting the possibility of his own mortality, Stanton resolved to use HONY as a force for good, relinquishing the writing credit for a TV series and redirecting his focus toward helping others.

Stanton’s personal life also played a key role in shaping his empathetic outlook. His parents divorced when he was an infant, and his mother remarried, providing him with a stable stepfather. As an adult, Stanton reconnected with his biological father, who had overcome drug addiction. In September 2020, just before his health scare, Stanton published one of his most extensive stories to date. Tanqueray, a former striptease artiste from the 1970s, had captured the attention of millions with her story. In a 32-part series on Instagram, Tanqueray delved into her tumultuous life, sharing stories of abuse, teen pregnancy, encounters with the mob, and lost love. Stanton has co-authored the book with Tanqueray and initiated a GoFundMe campaign that raised nearly $2.7 million to cover her healthcare costs, subsequently establishing a trust to protect those funds from potential exploitation.

A story starts with a struggle

Walking around all day and probing people about their hardships might seem disheartening, but for Stanton, the struggle is merely a starting point; it’s the beginning of a story — a chance for reflection, understanding, and personal growth. He often recalls Ralph Waldo Emerson’s words: “Every person I meet is my master at some point, and in that, I learn of him.” Despite interviewing thousands, he continues to discover something new from each encounter, tapping into their unique experience, often revealed through their struggles — the battles that have occupied their thoughts the most.

Through 13 years of storytelling, Stanton has realised the power of shared struggles in connecting people. “We empathize with pain much more than joy. The moment we truly see ourselves in another person is when we realize that we’ve felt the exact same pain. I’m not sure why this happens, but it happens. Maybe pain is the most universal feeling. Maybe there is an invisible, connective thread that runs between the loneliness of an old man and the hunger of an impoverished child. Maybe pain isn’t divisible. It’s singular and searing. Maybe it sinks deeper into the psyche. Whatever the reason, when another person feels it, we feel it ourselves. Recognizing pain in another person is the primary driver of empathy. It’s the beginning of compassion. And the more vividly that “pain is expressed, the more clearly it’s articulated, the more compassion it elicits” he writes.

His approach to interviews is straightforward. After obtaining permission and explaining his work, he dives in with a direct question: “What's your greatest struggle right now?” Sometimes, this momentary inquiry unveils the heavy burdens people carry, waiting for the chance to share. Divorce papers, impending funerals, addiction battles — the struggles lie beneath the veneer of daily life, concealed beneath small talk and social niceties. To Stanton, “everyone has a story” is a cliché, and there is a reason for it being a cliché. “The heart of a story is the struggle — the obstacle that has been faced, and hopefully overcome. It can be an obvious physical feat, like climbing a mountain or rescuing someone from drowning. It can be a mental battle: like depression, or addiction, or schizophrenia. It can be comedic or tragic. But none of these particular elements are the reason that struggles are crucial to a story. Struggles are crucial because they’re transformative. Struggles change people. And a well-told story merely follows the arc of that transformation,” he writes. As a storyteller, Stanton does the same.