We don’t need a professional-photographer
“We Don’t Need a Photographer Anymore”
A sentence I hear more often than I’d like
Photography & text: John Baggen
“We don’t need a photographer anymore. We do that ourselves these days.” It’s a sentence I’ve been hearing more and more over the past few years. And to be honest, it stings a little. Not because it hurts me personally, but because it reflects a much broader shift in how our profession is perceived — and sometimes misunderstood.
I’ve been a professional photographer since 1977. That’s almost five decades of experience, adapting to change, embracing new technology, but always standing firmly for quality.
Back then, I ran a studio of over 500 square meters, surrounded by a dedicated team of specialists. I worked with Sinar technical cameras, shooting on 4×5 and 8×10 inch transparency film. Big. Slow. Precise. Photography as a true craft.
My clients were international, particularly large construction companies. I travelled all over Northwest Europe for them. At the start of each year, I received a list of projects — those under construction and those already completed. I planned my routes around that schedule.
They were wonderful assignments. I focused on two things:
– the craftsmen, fully absorbed in their work and passion during construction
– the beauty of the architecture once the project was completed
With a technical camera, Scheimpflug was standard practice. Perfectly straight lines, even in extreme wide-angle situations. Images that were technically correct and visually convincing. This was where craftsmanship spoke for itself — without explanation.
Studio shot and digitally post-processed
When consumer digital cameras changed everything
Then came the digital consumer camera. Canon introduced the IXY Digital, and quietly, almost unnoticed at the time, the landscape began to shift.
Small cracks appeared in the image of the professional photographer. Clients started asking themselves:
“Do we really need a professional for this photo, or can we just do it ourselves?”
Project managers and site supervisors were given small digital cameras in the glove compartments of their company cars. The instruction was simple: “Take a few pictures now and then while you’re on site.”
And just like that, a substantial part of my assignment — professionally documenting construction progress — disappeared.
At first, I genuinely struggled with this. I saw the results, of course. And this is where it becomes nuanced:
On one hand, I was disappointed that I was no longer asked.
On the other hand, something deeper was happening. It felt as though the recognition of my profession was fading. As if the value of my craft was being eroded.
The client, however, was delighted. They saved money. You don’t hire me for “next to nothing.” And one thing was certain: had those same images — the ones they were so happy with — been delivered by me, they would never have accepted my invoice. That’s how poor the quality really was.
Move with the times — or disappear
Some developments cannot be stopped by a single individual. Years of experience have taught me that. You can’t fight them, and you can’t ignore them either. What you can do is move with them — without betraying your craft.
That’s exactly why I’m still here. I’ve always positioned myself at the forefront of new developments. Not chasing trends, but staying just ahead of them.
An architectural photograph in Valencia – Designed by Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava, the Palau de les Arts Reina Sofía in Valencia feels less like a building and more like a sculptural presence in the city. Photographing it, I was drawn to the tension between weight and lightness, where massive concrete forms appear to float, and architecture becomes an expression of movement rather than structure. Completed in 2005, the opera house stands at the heart of the City of Arts and Sciences — a place where culture, engineering, and imagination converge.
A step back in time: journalism in the early eighties
Let me take you back to the early 1980s. I was working as a photographer for daily newspapers. A period I may romanticize at times, but one that was above all intense and demanding.
I was young, driven, eager to learn. No effort was too much to get the right image. Today you’d send up a drone — back then, I climbed forty meters up church tower scaffolding.
The journalist wrote the story and called the photographer. We went out together. Sometimes those assignments turned into real adventures. Through reliable sources, we’d hear about an upcoming police raid. Then we’d lie hidden in bushes for hours, waiting.
There was always pressure. Film had to be developed in the darkroom, prints made, then straight into the car — driving like a madman to the newsroom. The photos still had to be placed on the page before the paper went to print. All within a strict deadline.
Studio shot set design and construction
And now? Today?
Today, I no longer smell the newspaper.
I don’t hear the paper rustle.
I don’t get blackened fingers from turning the pages.
I open a news app on my phone. Opinion pieces I read behind my desktop screen. And something stands out:
Where articles once listed both the writer and the photographer, I now often see just one name — the journalist. And the accompanying image was quickly shot with an iPhone.
I understand why. Truly, I do.
But the breathtaking photojournalistic image has largely disappeared. What remains is a sea of average, forgettable images.
Studio interior — two grand pianos, ivory and ebony.
This is not about protecting a market
Let me be absolutely clear: this is not about protecting a market.
I fully support anyone who enjoys making images — whether as a hobby or professionally. Image-making is a wonderful thing.
But among all those people with cameras, there is also the professional.
Every photographer has a camera.
But not everyone with a camera is a photographer.
Recognition for our profession only comes when photographers continue to strive for outstanding quality. When it’s clear you’re not looking at a snapshot, but at a carefully considered image with intent and meaning.
The professional photographer as a connector
The professional photographer is not an island.
They are a connector.
Someone who values collaboration over competition.
Who shares knowledge.
Who respects the work of colleagues and raises the bar together.
That is how the profession remains distinctive.
Video production — a documentary portrait of Sabaty Yaya Bajo, a Rasta preacher.
The conclusion: strength through unity
So when a client says:
“We don’t need a photographer anymore — we do it ourselves.”
Let that not be discouraging. Let it be a trigger. An invitation to show that this is the wrong turn.
Not with words — but with photography.
Not alone — but together.
I am such a colleague. I believe in collaboration, collegiality, and quality. That’s why I’m a member of the PPA in the United States and the AFPE here in Spain.
May I invite you to stand shoulder to shoulder and give a collective answer through our work?
That is how the profession remains distinctive.