To Shoot or Not to Shoot: Photographers and the Cell Phone Epidemic
When you are a photographer, you push yourself to take photos all the time. You also find yourself taking photos without the camera; imagining the angle and composition you would use in each situation. The advent of the digital camera has enabled lens professionals all over the world to shoot burst more, which has made it easier for them to capture that “decisive moment” Henri Cartier-Bresson spoke so much about. Even when every click in today’s digital cameras, mainly mirrorless ones, leads to shutter wear and eventually to the symbolic “death” of the equipment, we shoot… all the time.
However, where or when does the photographer end and the phone-addicted shoot-and-film-it-all start? Where does the ability to put down the camera (or the phone) go? What has become of our craving for seeing beautiful moments through our naked eye, our joy for seemingly simple yet extraordinary things in life, our curiosity for the creatures and phenomena of the world, our capacity to connect with other people, nature, or the environment?
Being a photographer, I can’t help feeling vulnerable and sometimes at a disadvantage these days. Although the camera tends sometimes to inspire respect, friendliness and curiosity, there is also a permanent risk of resentment, mistrust, and prejudice.
The camera might cause someone to give a look that says, “There goes a pro,” but it can turn the photographer into a victim, as people stereotype us, thinking that we intend to violate their image rights, and steal a photo with the sole purpose of posting it online to go viral and become the next Internet sensation.
Contrary to common belief, every person in the public is subject to being photographed and every photographer has the right to capture anyone who places themselves on the streets. The knowledge of that right, which is constantly violated outside of democracies, is essential for photographers to document life as it is. Whether working for any news agency or magazine, working on their personal projects, or working for collaboratives or stocks like Magnum, Getty Images, iStock, Shutterstok and Adobe Stock, we hold a right to photograph people on the streets. With the existence of CCTV cameras all over the world, people’s images do not belong to them anymore, they can be featured on the news, used in a federal investigation, and even as evidence in court.
However, that right is at risk every day because of people who do not know what a photographer can or can’t do, and constantly trespass thresholds no lens professional would dare approach. Phone-in-hand influencer wannabes walk into private spaces every day, invading people’s privacy and putting a damper on the reputation of real photographers. Rather than a friendly face that could capture images to promote their business or space, owners see us as invaders who are only looking for something to criticize about their business and lead to bad reviews or bad reputation.
Ergo, it is obvious that street photographers have a much bigger burden to carry, or a more difficult path to navigate. Deprived from the ID badges held by credited media, which has become increasingly necessary, street photographers find ourselves having to be sneakier or more forward and begging to take a photo. Depending on who we are dealing with and how they react to our presence and that of the camera, we decide how to approach them before taking the photo, or if we press the shutter at all.
The extra care and measures we have had to take have not been enough. Photographers have not escaped harassment, physical violence, or verbal attacks, both in person and online. Commonly associated with the record-it-all hordes of people traveling the world and making every city the personal backdrop of their videos or pictures, our art and mission has been compared to that of people who store everything on their phone, thus missing out on a lot of what life really is about.
Away from democracies, the risks are even bigger, as many can remember the many photographers who have died in civil or military conflicts. Dictators see photographers as one of their biggest threats, for we expose things they want hidden and provide graphic evidence for what happened. In this case, those phone-wielding “journalists” are also heroes, putting their lives at risk to shed light on causes and events. The phones become instruments for militants and activists, rendering live videos that can sometimes prevent a bloodbath by bringing awareness for certain issues.
Yet, there is a big difference between being a “reporter” for social justice and being an I-want-to-go-viral fanatic. And sometimes the hope gets lost when people turn into robots looking to capture a picture or a video of a moment they should have rather enjoyed with their eyes. Having the incredible opportunity of seeing certain events or people in person is a privilege that gets too often blocked by the screen that will not replicate the image quality of the in-situ experience in any way, shape, or form.
Photographers in events like weddings, graduations, birthday parties and receptions, need to elude and overcome the “loving” relatives who—just eager to be protagonists in a way—try to record or photograph every single moment of the important event, sometimes sabotaging the work of a professional who has been paid to do it. The result of that photographer’s work will by no means be matched by that of the latest iPhone.
Most of us, nevertheless, can savor and enjoy that special moment when our lens is not required, or we don’t feel the need to report. I will never film long reels of the St. Patrick’s Day Parade and will take less than 100 photos of it. The first time I saw it, in 2022, I chose to shoot very little, and my priority was to enjoy the experience, witnessing such a curious and unique moment of the life and culture of many American cities.
People dance and party on Broad Street during the Little Poland Festival in New Britain, Connecticut.|Credit: Reynaldo Cruz Diaz
Something similar happened during my first Little Poland Festival in New Britain, CT: although I had the clear objective of capturing images that ultimately ended up posted on my account on iStock by Getty Images, I also enjoyed seeing most of it through my naked eye, having a beer, eating something, and talking to a bunch of strangers. Of course, the camera opened the dialogue with many of the people that ended up in my SD card, but rather than taking the shots to brag about my presence in the place and time, I reported on an event that does not have a lot of images available online for people looking to do a demographic or anthropological research or paper on the Polish community.
These ideas lead us to an image that circled the world at the turn of the year. A moment many referred to as dystopian or Orwellian, was captured by Paris’s Arc de Triomphe, as tens of thousands of cell phones were lifted at the same time to film the fireworks when the clock hit midnight on New Year’s Eve. No emotion: people were too focused on shooting a reel of the moment, to later either post online, or show others who weren’t there and of course, brag about having been there.
But… were they actually there? Did they actually see the fireworks? Did they actually enjoy the moment? No. No. And no. They were not actually there: they were prisoners of the digital world and of the artificial and phony interactions of content generation and social media. They did not see the fireworks: they saw them through their phone screens, which, as I said before, will not replicate the quality of a camera, let alone their very eyes. They did not enjoy the moment: they were too focused on capturing the footage, forgetting that the very reason for fireworks to exist is precisely enjoying the explosions, the lights, the noises with the wide angles of our eyes and ears, and submerging yourself in the warmth of people.
A group of people in the stands of Estadio Latinoamericano in Havana, Cuba, lift their cell phones and point-and-shoot cameras trying to record the entrance of US President Barack Obama during his visit to the ballpark for a friendly baseball game between the Tampa Bay Rays and the Cuban National Team. Having a better location than them, and using a Canon EOS Rebel T3 DSLR camera and a 300mm lens (although not the best, but a solid zoom nonetheless), I could not capture an image of the statesman the way I could.|Credit: Reynaldo Cruz Diaz
And the most alarming thing is that the person who made the image public was perhaps doing the same thing.
Any professional photographer (at least myself and most of the ones I personally know) would have shot a few bursts, to then stand, relax, and enjoy the view provided by the colors and lights. And sometimes, we don’t even use the camera, and do exactly as we can see Sean O’Connel (Sean Penn) tell Walter Mitty (Ben Stiller) in the movie The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, “If I like a moment, for me, personally, I don’t like to have the distraction of the camera. I just want to stay in it. Right there. Right… here.”
People are staying in the moment less and less these days, thus losing the essence of life, beauty, emotion. Our addiction to cell phones has managed to put us in the Matrix, isolating us more and more from the real-world day.
