Creating a photograph isn’t just about pressing a button. But does all that effort actually make the final image more valuable?
Coming to you from Shoot On Film—by Ari Jaaksi, this thoughtful video questions whether difficulty adds worth to a photograph. Jaaksi starts with everyday examples: paying for groceries is easier than ever with a phone and navigation is now handled by GPS. In these cases, convenience doesn’t lessen value. But then he shifts to activities where difficulty matters. Watching a rock climber scale El Capitan is gripping because of the risk and effort involved. If the same person used an electric winch, the feat would lose meaning. Competitive sports follow similar rules—hockey goalies can’t wear oversized pads to make their job easier. Some activities are valuable precisely because they are difficult.
Jaaksi then turns to music, where technology has changed how performances are judged. Autotune can correct a singer’s pitch, and live performances can be altered in real time. He brings up an incident involving Celine Dion at the Paris Olympics, where her performance was revealed to be pre-recorded and digitally corrected. While she’s undeniably talented, the discovery made the performance feel less authentic. He contrasts this with a digital keyboard’s demo mode, which can produce a flawless melody at the press of a button. But perfection isn’t always engaging—raw human expression, with its imperfections, often holds more value.
This brings the discussion back to photography. AI-enhanced smartphone cameras ensure every shot is sharp, well-balanced, and vibrant. You don’t need to understand aperture, shutter speed, or composition; the software does it for you. But when everything looks the same, does it still hold meaning? Jaaksi argues that mass-produced, perfectly polished images can feel cold and empty. They flood our daily lives, often serving as marketing tools rather than artistic expressions. As a result, a single photograph has less impact than it once did.
The conclusion is clear: difficulty matters. The hours spent in a darkroom, the trial and error, and the mastery of technique all contribute to an image’s depth and character. While technology can simplify the process, it can't replace the human effort that makes certain photographs stand out. Check out the video above for the full rundown from Jaaksi.
I agree that difficulty makes us better photographers. I've said that many times before. And from my viewpoint, that gives my images greater value... at least the type of value which has meaning for me. But I also think it's a bit of a leap to conclude that greater difficulty translates to value for the viewer. Would the average viewer recognize the difficulty inherent in a picture? Would they pay more for it because of its level of difficulty? Was anyone really impressed with the picture that Ari had on his desk that he was using as an example? The author of the video believes that the ease and convenience of modern technology leads to clinical images which all look the same. But on the other hand, he states, "difficulty shows in our work, and makes our pictures more interesting." Hmmm... To whom? Does the average viewer see evidence of that in one of my prints?
Alex, this is such a thought-provoking exploration of effort and value in photography. As a fashion and editorial photographer, I often reflect on how much craftsmanship goes into creating an image—beyond just the click of the shutter. Whether it’s the precise interplay of lighting, composition, and subject interaction, or the countless hours spent refining an aesthetic, the effort behind an image shapes its authenticity and emotional impact.
Your analogy with music resonates deeply. Just as raw, unfiltered vocal performances can carry more emotional weight than pitch-perfect autotuned tracks, images that show the hand of the artist—whether through film, unconventional lighting, or deliberate imperfection—often feel more compelling than algorithmically perfected ones.
I was reminded of this while working on The Melbourne Portraits Project, where the constraints of shooting in natural light on city streets forced me to embrace unpredictability. The challenge of adapting to shifting light, unexpected backdrops, and fleeting expressions made each image feel more alive. That effort—the patience, the improvisation—became an inseparable part of the final result.
https://kisau.com/the-melbourne-portraits-project/
Paul Tocatlian
Kisau Photography
www.kisau.com