There’s been a lot of talk lately about whether or not photographers – and other creative types – should ever work for nothing. I’ve had a recent experience that has made me think about this a lot, and would like to share it here.
I’ve always given my photographs away freely. My images on Flickr are offered under the Creative Commons licence, which means that anyone can use them for free, provided they attribute them to me with a link back to the source. I only put low resolution images on there, so that they’re really only suitable for web use and wouldn’t make good prints.
I’ve had a number of people contact me over the years to ask if they could use a photo – nice of them, considering the ‘permission’ is already in place – and I’ve always said yes. Sometimes I get a thank you, sometimes I don’t. It always surprises me what people ask for – one woman wanted to use a picture of some rusty corrugated iron on her business card, as she dealt in scrap metal. On a couple of occasions I’ve been offered payment for the higher-res version – once for an image that was to be used in a TV documentary, and the other time for a photo of a chicken that was to be included in a free poster given away with a magazine for nursery nurses.
But these are images that I’ve already taken, and these are also images that are not of any importance to me. Also, I do like to think of my pictures being used and enjoyed, so it gives me pleasure to let people have them. It’s another matter, however, when you’re asked to do a specific photography job, shooting the kind of thing you’d never normally photograph, and to do it for nothing.
I have a colleague who recently got married. We’ve met her and her now husband outside of work a few times, but I don’t regard her as a close friend or even as someone that I’d be likely to keep in touch with should I stop working for the library. A few months ago she asked if I might be interested in taking the photographs at their wedding. It was to be a small affair, and it seemed that they mostly wanted informal, candid shots of guests. In no way am I a wedding photographer, or even much of a people photographer, but the informality of it appealed and I thought it might be an interesting challenge.
No mention was made of money. I knew that they didn’t have a lot to spend, and I was willing to do it extremely cheaply, but it became more and more obvious over the next couple of months that it might be expected for free. I wasn’t happy with this, but it felt too difficult by then to say that I would like to be paid something, however little, especially as she’d already managed to get her flowers and her cake done for nothing by other friends. I resigned myself to the fact that I’d be working for nothing.
About three weeks before the wedding we met for lunch to discuss the photography. At that point it became obvious that I was indeed expected to work for nothing, and that the extent of what was wanted was far greater than I had thought. Instead of just attending the wedding breakfast, I was now wanted at the afternoon ‘do’ as well, and it would be nice, wouldn’t it, if I were to follow them home at the end of the day and take a shot of them outside their house. The number of formal shots increased dramatically, and I was also asked to do a number of family group shots – other families, people I don’t even know – so that they could be given prints afterwards. It went on getting worse, and my cracking point came when it was suggested that I pick up the bride’s mother on my way past and give her a lift to the wedding. Finally, as we parted, the bride-to-be’s parting remark was that ‘it would be fun for me’! I walked home with steam coming out my ears.
Before this meeting, I’d talked at length to Geoff about the situation and we’d come to the conclusion that she simply didn’t appreciate what was involved. She’d told me they’d ‘ply me with food and drink’, obviously not realising that I wouldn’t have any chance to sit down, eat and chat, as I’d be working and so wouldn’t even get to enjoy the wedding as a social event. When we met I explained to her that all the photos would need to be processed, which would be about two days work, and then prepared for print and put onto a memory stick. ‘Yes, that’s fine’, she said, ‘but we might need some help with getting them printed’. Whatever I said, she was either oblivious to what she was asking of me, or she simply took it as her due. I still don’t know which.
I’d got myself into a real mess. I knew it was partly my own fault for not making it clear at the beginning that I would expect some payment, albeit a small one, but I a little incredulous that it was thought that I’d be happy to offer all this for no charge. I thought about whether or not I’d be willing to do this for my closest friends for free, and decided that I would, but I also knew that none of my close friends would ever expect it and would insist on paying me something. I came to the conclusion that I would have to back out. I didn’t reach this decision lightly, and felt very bad about it, but it felt necessary for my own self-respect and to stop the rising tide of resentment that was building inside me. In the event, she took it extremely well and quickly found another friend with an interest in photography to do the job instead. I assume for free.
I’ve learned a lot from this, not least of which is that I must make it clear straightaway, should the situation arise again, that I don’t do this sort of thing for nothing. But I think it also highlights a couple of issues that photographers – and creative people in general – are prone to experiencing. The first is that, because it’s something you’re passionate about, it’s fun for you and it can’t be counted as work. Anyone who has a vocation knows that even when you love what you do – perhaps especially when you love what you do – you put huge amounts of time and effort into doing it well, and that counts as work, by any standard.
Neither is it always fun. Sometimes it is, but sometimes it’s frustrating, challenging, worrying or any number of other things. The fact that overall it’s fulfilling and satisfying does not mean that it’s not also full of difficult moments. This is fine – this is what Aristotle meant when he talked about eudaimonia as a brand of happiness that might actually mean a life filled with difficulty and problems, but also one in which what you do feels absolutely ‘right’ for you. It’s the difference between the hobbyist taking ‘snaps’ and the photographer who’s constantly trying to grow and stretch themselves.
It would, in fact, have been very stressful for me – the pressure to get it right, the fear that you mess up on photographs that can’t be repeated, the struggle with lack of equipment, or equipment that isn’t ideally suited to the job. I haven’t felt particularly well since I had flu last Christmas, and really didn’t want that kind of stress – in the end this was the reason I gave for withdrawing. All of this, however, might have been worthwhile had I felt that it was valued and appreciated.
When someone else isn’t willing to give anything for what you offer, and you accept that, it tells you that neither they nor you value yourself or your work enough. In my colleague’s case, she’s not a very visual person and therefore doesn’t put much value on photography other than as a record of events – it’s unlikely that she’d see much difference between a good snapshot and a professional image. That she didn’t put any value on the time I was putting into it is somewhat to do with her and somewhat to do with me. From her side, there were small things that would have helped – like offering to buy me lunch while we talked about it. Also, her partner was supposed to be putting up some shelves in our kitchen, for which we were paying him, and had they offered to swap this for the photography I’d have gone with that. (In the event, I was texted shortly after backing out and told that he was ‘too busy’ to do the shelves for us.) Even a genuine show of gratitude and appreciation would have gone some way towards being a compensating factor. There are many ways to give back and they don’t all involve money.
However, the other side of it is somewhat to do with me. I’ve always given a bit too readily, because I like to help out and it makes me feel good. This is fine when there’s a bit of give and take and neither side is doing all of one and none of the other – I’ve often been on the receiving end as well as the giving one. However, nobody is going to respect your time and expertise unless you do so yourself – if you do, they sense that and are less likely to overstep the mark. I’m pleased that something in me responded to the feeling that my own value wasn’t being recognised, and was strong enough to make me do something about it. I’m not so pleased that I let it get so far, both giving myself a great deal of angst and then letting other people down at the last minute. I regret that.
I can think of some situations where I’d happily work for no pay – for a charity dear to my heart, for a good and close friend, in a situation where it would move my photographic career forwards – but in the end, it’s my profession and I have to put a value on that, on my time, and on whatever skills and expertise I’ve managed to develop over the years.