Respect, Work, and Hope
A better future depends on us – a mindset that is already changing. Enough with pointing fingers at others; we need to point fingers at ourselves. Our work culture can be better.
I often wonder: where does this belief come from, this idea that some humans think they are inherently better or superior to others? Why are we built in a way that makes us believe our lives are worth more than anyone else’s?
The other day, I was taking photos at an event when a young man in his 20s approached me and asked for a photo. I told him I could send it to him later. His response gave me hope for the future: “This is your work. How much should I pay? How would it work?”
For many, this may seem like a normal question. But to me, it was a spark of hope for the future – my future. As a professional photographer, I’m constantly fighting to receive fair pay, to avoid being negotiated down to the smallest part of the budget, and to shake off the ever-present fear of getting a negative response to a pricing email. This is the reality for many freelancers.
We live in a world where, thanks to the rise of remote work during the pandemic and the widespread adoption of AI, freelance work is predicted to increase by 60% for companies. If this happens, it will become even harder to stand out, earn a positive revenue, and resist the pressure to lower prices just to stay competitive.
When I moved to Norway, one of the things I found surprisingly expensive was a driver’s license. I tried to understand why it cost so much. The answer was simple: unions. They collaborate, and if one raises prices, they all raise prices.
It’s so simple that it makes you wonder: why doesn’t everyone do this? The reality is people – specifically business people. I’ve tried contacting other photographers to discuss pricing, but I rarely get a response.
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Early in my career, I interned at a culture newspaper. One of my favorite photographers worked mostly in concert photography, and I was nervous about meeting her. During one concert, every spot I tried to cover with my camera, she would step in front of me, making it difficult to work. At the end of the concert, she said, “I don’t let kids working for free take the best spots for photos. You’re the reason people don’t value what we do.”
At the time, I remember thinking she was right. And more and more, I’ve been reflecting on that.
I strive to be kind and respectful toward photographers who understand the market and get work done through dedication and hard work. However, I struggle to respect those who approach my clients, undercutting me by offering free work just to grow their Instagram following. There’s only one photographer I’ve ever blocked on Instagram, and it was for this reason: professionalism matters. The world is already cruel enough without devaluing others’ work.
I want to be a better photographer and a better professional every day. I take courses, invest in equipment, and continually try to improve. But it’s difficult to stay optimistic when new photographers undercut the market by working for free or when clients ask for a 50% discount because they “know someone important,” claiming it will be good exposure for me. (It never is – it’s never good for you.) My experience shows that when you are part of the budget you deserve, they will hire someone more expensive.
We have an image, and we have unspoken rules. But none of it matters if we lack principles and common sense.
What gives me hope is the thought that all this talk about mental health and building a better society might actually lead to a society that cares. That young man’s question – “How much for your work?” – brought me hope. It also brought me shame. Shame for not recognizing that what he was doing should be seen as normal, not extraordinary.
Writing this, I can’t help but feel scared – scared that I might lose some customers. But I hope I won’t. My experiences aren’t all bad; in fact, I have wonderful customers who have worked with me for years. They make me feel appreciated and lucky, and for that, I’m deeply grateful.
But this is about the other percentage – the ones who see the work as so simple that they believe it shouldn’t be valued. And, sadly, sometimes the people devaluing the work the most are the ones holding the camera.
