The Gentleman and Gentlelady’s Guide to Photographic Etiquette
Furthering modern discource and the making of images
Kind gentlemen, gentle-ladies and and all who remain suspiciously damp. My name is Sir Andrew Blitherington Hutchinson, Fourth Earl of Chipping Sodbury, Assistant Warden of the Somerset order of Badger Herders, Acting Commissioner for Lost Umbrellas and Lord-High Sergeant of the Somnambulist Trumpet Society.
It has been brought to my attention that the decorum and propriety so beloved of the union of photographers since the days of my great, great, great Uncle, Fox Talbot has fallen out of favour with modern practitioners of the photographic arts.
And I have been recalled from our family’s summer residence in beautiful Luton, to bring you a message of guidance and sober reflection, such that we can right the good ship photography and sail once more through bejewelled fields of light without challenging each other to a lens-off. To that end, I would now like to quote from the 1952 Revised Edition of The Gentleman and Gentlelady’s Guide to Photographic Etiquette.
On Spatial Decorum and the Tripod
A gentleman should always maintain a respectful three-metre distance between his tripod and that of a fellow image-hunter. Should he neglect such gentlemanly civility, he risks more than a spoiled composition, he courts the very collapse of photographic civilisation as we know it. Always observe proper tripod clearance, and never plant your legs (aluminium or otherwise) within a neighbour’s exclusion zone. Good boundaries make good photographers.
On Conversation, Courtship and Card-Carrying Instagrammers
A brisk exchange of pleasantries is entirely acceptable: “What ho! Marvellous light this morning,” or “Heaven’s to Betsy! Is that the new Fuji?” may suffice. But beware, the slippery slope of idle chat may lead swiftly to unsolicited portfolio reviews and the unveiling of Instagram handles. One comment is camaraderie. Two is intrusion. Three, and you are likely being recruited into a cult. Should your fellow snapper respond with a nod and promptly place a pair of large noise-cancelling headphones upon their head, take the hint. You are no longer welcome. Persist, and you may find yourself sent to the shadow realm.
On the Use of Personal Illumination Devices
In low light, a modest head torch is a practical companion. However, one must resist the urge to simulate the landing lights of a commercial airliner operating in heavy fog. When setting up before dawn, illuminate one’s path discreetly – downwards, not into the eyes of other hapless photographers. This is not a lighthouse, and you are not attempting to summon maritime assistance.
On Headphones as Social Boundary Markers
The presence of headphones (whether discreet earbuds or over-ear contraptions) signals one thing and one thing only: Do Not Engage. This is the international semaphore of solitude. Do not approach. Do not wave. Do not mouth the words “what are you shooting?” across a windy clifftop. The wearer is communing with the Muse, or possibly listening to a true crime podcast. In either case, interruption is ill-advised.
On Lens Terminology in Mixed Company
In the wild, one must conform to the local dialect. Thus, refer to lenses as “glass” when engaging in casual parlance. “That’s a lovely bit of glass” will mark you as a seasoned traveller of the photographic realm. “That’s a nice lens” will mark you as someone’s dad on holiday.
On Frame Invasion and the First Dibs Doctrine
If another has claimed a vantage point with tripod firmly planted, do not saunter into their frame like the Lord of All That the Light Touches. Observe, assess, and settle elsewhere. The early bird gets the worm; the latecomer gets to seethe silently from at least five metres away, as is only proper.
On Chimping and Uninvited Peering
Never hover behind another photographer to view their LCD. It is akin to reading their diary, only with less bitter recriminations and code-words for masturbation. If they wish to share their masterpiece, they will thrust it upon you unbidden. Until then, avert your gaze, sir!
On Gear-Splaining and Technical One-Upmanship
If not explicitly consulted, resist the urge to critique another’s settings, gear, or compositional choices. They may know exactly what they’re doing, or they may be using Auto Mode and a prayer. Either way it’s none of your business, damn your eyes, sir!
On Silent Entry and the Pre-Dawn Pact
Arriving before sunrise is no excuse for sounding like a brass band falling down a staircase. Zip your 25litre adventure backpack quietly, tread softly, and leave all monologues about “that one time in Patagonia” until the coffee’s been drunk and the light is flatter than a a steamrolled tortilla.
On Insect-Related Altruism
Should a fellow photographer be seen flailing madly as mosquitoes cover them in red welts and drain their life force, do not laugh, snort, or film it for TikTok. Produce repellent and offer it nobly, perhaps with a small differential bow. One day, it may be you who smells of citronella and fear and you’ll be glad that a fellow seeker of light has got your back.
Go Forth and Photograph
As you can see, our forebears were well versed in the civilised manner of photographic endeavours and we would do well to remember their hard-won advice. We may be united under a common diversion – the art of photography and the making of images, but our pursuit of light, love and leading lines should never be at the expense of other noble journeymen and women.
And on that note, I shall now retreat once more to my summer residence, there to sip tepid Earl Grey and polish my big stopper. To the civilised adherents to photographic etiquette, I bid you good day, good light, and may your horizons always be level … and to the rebel-rousing carousers and n’er-do-wells, I say mind your manners, or may every future landscape shot be marred by a council worker in hi-vis.
Also published in RAW & Unfiltered on Substack.
