Out of Business

How to Tell You're About To Go Out Of Business
by George Anderson

In this new photo world order of digital capture, changing technologies and squeaky tight budgets, all of the photographers I know are struggling with some aspect of their business. Wouldn't it be nice if we could tell if the end were near? How convenient; a few simple signs, and we could know "it's time to go, call the auctioneer!"

Well, I asked that question of my fellow Ohio Valley Chapter Members in our email group, and we have come up with some pretty good indicators.

There are some underlying traits that this list does bring out. We photographers seem to trend towards napping, and there are some latent evidences of TV addiction. We would rather waste time hobnobbing with our fellow wizards in labs and camera stores than update our mailing lists. We even would rather sit around dreaming up ways to tell you're about to go out of business than actually doing something about it. We have a tendency to think short term (lottery tickets, beautiful day) than long term
(retirement, organize files). And indeed, we would rather play and have good fun taking cool pictures than do something boring like revisit a marketing plan.

So, with my hat off to numerous fellow ASMPers, here are our findings:

1) Your computer's operating system has numbers like "95" and "8.6".

2) Your web site is hosted and maintained by arachnids.

3) You are proud of the "Biggest Pain In The Ass" Award you received at the last professional meeting you attended.

4) When the guys at the camera store put up a "No Loitering" sign when you come in.

5) When you associate "color balance" with a political issue.

6) Marketing to you is grocery shopping, and branding is about livestock.

7) The postage on the last direct mail card you sent out cost 19 cents apiece, first class.

8) When you realize that you're addicted to afternoon naps, and you make sure to leave the phone off the hook so you won't be disturbed.

9) When you realize you nap more often than your dog.

10) You don't care how many people know you watch the new Dr. Phil Show, every day.

11) You scheduled your last shoot so that you wouldn't miss an episode of "All My Children."

12) Your flash tubes smell funny when you finally shoot them off again.

13) Agencies have folded, blended, morphed and reformed and you never knew.

14) You call on familiar art directors and have to repeat your last name... twice!

15) When you look around your studio and office, and EVERYTHING is in the EXACT same place it was, and is supposed to be.

16) Your plants exhibit the healthy glow of being talked to often, and have a better health care plan than you do.

17) Your pension plan consists of lottery tickets.

18) The labs call every now and then to see if you're alive.

19) The labs quit calling to see if you're alive.

20) When you go to the lab and discover it has moved.

21) You've pulled the batteries out of your cameras and meters so they won't corrode from lack of use.

22) You're not sure about that digital stuff, but most of the film in your frig is out of date.

23) When vacations blur together.

24) When you spend more time dreaming up ways to tell you're going out of business and looking up words like "arachnid" than finding work.

Please keep in mind that all of these shenanigans assume you love photography, and you started into this profession to "do what you love to do" rather than to amass wealth and possessions. Come to think of it, we do amass wealth, but they are "intellectual properties"; and our possessions tend to be our gear and peripheral accoutrements such as props, sets, dead computers, assistants who won't leave and favorite prints.

If you have fallen out of love with photography, all this doesn't matter anyway. You would never have read this far. But those of you who have stuck with this, have faith. It means you like what you do so much as to endure great hardships in order to do it. I believe clients can tell someone who is really involved in their profession, and would rather work with an enthusiastic photographer than with a clock watching automaton.

So stick with the basics; do good work, good business and keep good relations with the people who exert the most influence on your future. And by golly, if you have the time, nap. Especially if you have the inclination!

Special thanks to all who helped (Todd Joyce, Jim Barnett, Lisa Tyner, Tom Vogel, Lee Schulman, and Mary Strubbe). My apologies to those whose contributions were not used. I had to stop somewhere.