I’ve been a photography enthusiast since I was in 3rd grade. My mom brought me into a darkroom and I got to witness the magic of black and white printing. The entire process was enthralling. Working in darkness, turning on the safety lamp and watching the latent image slowly appear on the paper while the smell of developer lingered in the air was nothing short of magical. But the reality was by the time I was in college, I still loved photography but it took a back seat to my studies. Sure, I took photos with print film, but those weren’t exactly serious. I mean, drugstore processing couldn’t really get you the best quality. In the mid to late 90s and early 2000s, I determined that shooting slide film was the best way forward. I eventually got a dedicated slide/film scanner and worked my way around Photoshop to try to improve my images (with varying results).
Digital photography changed that for me. For the first time, I could spend the kind of time “developing” my images in a manner analogous to the fine-art photographers who’d mastered the wet darkroom. Photography once again became a craft, not just a means to snap memories in the easiest and cheapest way. Enter the iPhone.
Prior to the iPhone, I not only didn’t have a camera phone, I didn’t want one. The images were straight crap. Convenient, yes. But straight-up garbage in terms of quality. Of course, that was in 2008, and now smartphone cameras are so good that they pretty much put the compact camera market out of business. Why? The image quality is quite good, and computational tricks take away the need for post-processing. What comes out of my phone with a single click would take me a little time and work on my computer if I had used a DSLR or mirrorless camera. And therein lies the rub. Smartphone cameras are so convenient that it’s easy to simply give up the “real” camera and return to the land of drugstore prints being “good enough.”
My iPhone is always with me, and I appreciate the convenience of having a decent way of capturing images that I can instantly share online. The image quality is damn good, provided I’m not going in and making significant crops or enlargements. I’ll be the first to agree that most people probably aren’t doing that often either. But for me, taking photos with my phone seems sterile. Uninspiring. Even when the image turns out well, I get no joy from the process. Let me try to explain.
First of all, when I go somewhere to do photography, I approach it with a vision in mind. Sometimes, that vision changes along the way as I look through the viewfinder of my camera. The viewfinder helps me focus my thoughts on the scene, and blocks out stray light and distractions. I’m always fighting glare and brightness issues when I try to do outdoor photography with my phone. Rather than getting intimate with my surroundings, I click the screen and walk away.
When I take photos with my phone, I don’t usually need to adjust them. Sure, I can tweak the look in the phone, but most of the time it’s not really necessary unless I want to change the style. But when I bring back a memory card full of images to my computer, I’m always amazed by what I see. I see the entire process laid out in front of me, starting with the shots that I thought would be interesting and then progressing to the ones where I really got in touch with my subjects. Moreover, I know that what comes out of the camera isn’t the finished product. I want to look at those photos and see what kind of magic I can pull from them in the digital darkroom. It’s part of the process, the craft. Sure, I can spend a lot of time working on images before I share or print them, but for me that’s part of the joy.
So my question for you, my readers, is what does it say when you find yourself reaching for your phone instead of your camera? I don’t want to call it laziness; I think it’s something different. Photography should bring you joy, and there are plenty of reasons why you might not be feeling it anymore.
I know many photo enthusiasts who simply don’t like carrying around a big, heavy DSLR and complement of lenses. I get that! But are you forcing yourself into some form of early retirement because you’re unwilling to carry your gear? There are indeed many systems out there that are smaller and lighter than the full-frame stuff we’re indoctrinated to believe is the only way to capture good photos. I get that; we want to look the part of the “photo pro.”
I co-led a workshop in Las Vegas once, and I chose to shoot with a Fujifilm X-T1 camera. It was great for that venue; small, agile and lightweight. One evening as we were all out shooting with our tripods, a guy came up to me and started offering me unsolicited photography advice, unaware that I was leading a workshop professionally. My co-instructor on that trip was using her big full-frame Nikon DSLR and top-end glass. Nobody asked if she needed any help! The funny thing though is that when we shared photos after the workshop, nobody questioned the quality of the images I’d gotten with that “little camera.”
That workshop was over 10 years ago, and digital cameras have only gotten better (including the ones in our phones). You don’t need a medium format or even 35mm format camera to have fun out there, so why not consider a smaller alternative?
Are you afraid or unwilling to learn software tools? I get that, too. I mean Photoshop… damn that program is intimidating. But you don’t need Photoshop to make good photos. There are many options out there for image processing that are easy to use, and if you get good with them, you’ll be blowing away your smartphone images in no time. Heck, you can even use them to work on images from your smartphone camera! My philosophy is that what comes out of the camera is merely the starting point. Post-processing exists to make your best shots better!
Finally, I believe that photography is about capturing moments and sharing those moments with others. When I return from a trip, people will ask if I brought back any souvenirs. I tell them that my photos are my souvenirs. When I look at them, I immediately get transported back to that moment and that place. There’s nothing like showing someone a photo of a place they’ve been and having them say, “I was there but my photos don’t look anything like yours!” For me, it’s all about slowing down, enjoying the sense of place, and embracing the process and making beautiful images. Images that I imbue with my own personal style, not some canned filter from a phone, no matter how cool it might seem.
But more than that, I also love sharing my knowledge with others so that they may share in the same joy I get from the craft of photography. My hope is that there are still photography enthusiasts out there, wanting to learn more and improve in all aspects of the craft. It’s so easy to fall down the rabbit hole of point, click, share that we can forget just how much fun you can have by embracing the entire process of photography, not just the press of the shutter release, even if it’s with a smartphone.
Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think in the comments.
I share your love for the process. I crave that sense of intimacy with the scene, that slowness, that act of making instead of just taking. But I also want to say, I’m grateful for my iPhone.
It’s a tool that’s reignited my passion. It’s helped me practice the art of seeing. I use it to experiment with light and framing, to train my instincts, and to keep photography alive in my everyday life. It’s made me want more, a better camera, a deeper understanding, the full arc of creation from shutter to final edit.
Reading your piece reminded me that I’m not just someone who likes to take pictures. I’m someone who wants to become a photographer.
Thank you for this post and your perspective.
I use my iPhone for “snapshots” or when I don’t have anything else with me. I use my Nikon when I want to “make an image.” I enjoy the process and the options. I just came back from a trip throughout France. I took the Nikon everywhere and shot just over 3,000 images. Out of those, I ended up with 405 “keepers.” I enjoyed making every one of them. Even the throwaways.