I wonder...
Is it such a parlous state of affairs when technology falls into the hands of the masses? I watched it happen in the nineties, when at the start very few families had a PC and an internet connection. I held a job as a respected systems analyst and programmer who deputised for the system administrator when needed. We had "proper" computers the size of filing cabinets with nice reassuring LED numbers that cycled back to zero every second to let us know they we're working.
Morons weren't allowed near them. In fact, our office had a security keypad on the door, the code to which even senior management didn't know. The computers were housed in a purpose-built inner sanctum sanctorum with air conditioning.
We were horrified at the spread of PCs.
Every bod from the sales team to the dippy girl on reception who didn't know which way was North on a map of the UK suddenly wanted our advice. Grown men, masters of our printing presses, old enough to have thawed from the last ice age and dragged their knuckles down off the Mendips wanted to know chapter and verse...
After much haggling we wrenched a few bob from our MD and bought a Compaq desktop to install in the office. It looked pretty, but was never going to be more than a bauble. We kept it out of mischief by running a fractal generator on it...
It was never more than a toy. Of course we had to reboot it now and again. Just for a laugh we let our main file server run and run, when the manual said to bring it down and reboot once a week. Eighteen months later and the boss finally screwed it by installing a link, to of all things the PC...
There are people who can always be relied upon to know what they're talking about, experienced, apprenticed or however they've come by their knowledge and evolved their
modus operandi. There will always be opportunists ready to make a quick killing and there will always be those ready to pay the fast buck they're looking for to supply the undemanding and primitive public with something frivolous.
In the end, most people realise that cheap tat won't hold a candle to high-end craftsmanship and however the wind blows, the dedicated and diligent craftsman will find that there is a market for his product. He has nothing to fear from those who pretend to his position, just the natural competition from rivals of similar ability.
One only has to look at tabloid newspapers such as The Sun or The Mail, the images within, the banal and sensationalised reportage, to see how a base environment survives and thrives. Surely no-one here would aspire to have their photography published in either of these lavatory rolls?
If the state of gig photography is so parlous, I'd suggest voting with one's feet. There's really no choice in the matter if bread is to be put on the table. It won't be long before the lack of good quality imagery makes itself felt. Cowboys generally do best in a recession and as I pointed out earlier, they stack the work up for professionals come the good times.
One doesn't reap a harvest in the winter.
End of rambling discourse.
Phew!