Closer To The Ideal

Jeff Howe writes about crowd sourcing and how some sites are getting designers to work on spec:

So one might expect crowdSPRING and 99designs to wither away like so many other seemingly ill-conceived Web 2.0 start ups. Instead, they seem to be flourishing. 99designs says it has paid out over $4 million to its community of 30,000 artists, and crowdSPRING expects to be profitable by next year. The success of crowdsourced design has sparked a vibrant, highly emotional debate within the design industry.

Alarmed by the popularity of the spec model, a group of designers formed a protest group called NO!SPEC to persuade their colleagues (and prospective clients) to just say no to design contests.

He make the point that what is now happening to design is what earlier happened to stock photography:

iStockphoto and other so-called “microstock” agencies capitalized on a similar disparity. The result was the total disruption of the $2 billion stock photo industry. iStock is now the third-largest purveyor of stock images, and some 96 percent of its “workforce” is comprised of amateurs. In my crowdsourcing book I posed the question of whether stock photography was an isolated case, or just the canary in the coal mine. It was an open question as of April 2008 when I submitted the final changes to my galleys. Now it ain’t. The canary is prone, lying motionless on a bed of its own droppings. It looks like it’s time to find another mine.

My dad was a stock photographer during the golden years, 1950-1990, when it was possible to make really good money doing stock photography – adjusting for inflation, 6 figure annual incomes. That began to change in the 90s, due the proliferation of royalty-free images, and distribution over the Internet (some of the same forces that re-shaped the music business). And then, there was the incredible consolidation of the business. An industry that had been made up of hundreds of small and mid-sized businesses consolidated around just 2 giants: Corbis and Getty.

Getty, in particular, acquired a reputation for offering harsh contracts to photographers. My dad was irritated that they offered “on spec” contracts, where sometimes the photographer was asked to shoot a subject, but had no guarantee of pay, or inclusion in the collection. My dad never signed such a contract, but rather, continued to work with some of the smaller stock agencies that remained independent. But these firms all suffered declining revenues.

The new micro-stock royalty free web sites are again transforming the business.

By the way, this is off-topic, but I find it amusing. Be careful what you photograph:

Thibaud Elziere, the CEO of micropayment site Fotolia, was detained by police for eight hours after he took a photo of a security camera at the French Prime Minister’s residence.

According to a posting on the Fotolia company blog, Elziere was testing a new camera while on a walk in Paris on Sept. 21. Police officers stopped him when they saw him snap a picture of a security camera.

According to the blog, Elziere didn’t realize he was photographing something sensitive. He explained to the police who he was and what he was doing, and deleted the picture from his camera as an act of good faith. Police checked his background before releasing him eight hours later.

Darren Hoyt and his wife discovered a remarkable scene one day of a turtle, a frog and a spider. They took a photo of the scene, which became popular. And then, sad to say, some newspapers began stealing the photo without attribution:

Apparently, she first discovered the photo and backstory in OK! Magazine, one of England’s sleazier tabloids. I hadn’t given permission to any magazine, so I started Googling around.

Turns out another British publication, the Daily Telegraph, had also published the photo, initially crediting it to WENN (World Entertainment News Network). WENN is largely known for supplying paparazzi/celebrity photos to the entertainment media.

In fact someone from WENN had contacted me months before, but I’d refused to provide a hi-res photo unless I was told what in what context it would be used. I never got a response, but the photo was taken from Flickr anyway.

The lady at WENN seemed a little startled that I’d called their London office directly. She agreed to remove the photo from their database, but offered little in the way of an explanation, apology, or disclosure about how much money was exchanged for the photo. Since then I’ve been told the photo had been scooped up and sold by mistake, and would be removed from WENN’s database. Mistake or no, I suspect this isn’t uncommon at all.

My dad had a popular lecture that he used to give to amateur photo clubs about the value of the occasional great photo. During his 57 year career, he took 700,000 shots, of which he would immediately discard 90%. He was left with about 70,000 high quality shots that got picked up by stock agencies and other organizations that agreed to represent his work. Of these photos, about 80% never made a single sale. Only 5% had multiple sales. The best 2% (of the 10% he did not discard) accounted for more than half his income.

When I was a child, I heard story after story about the surprise best sellers. One morning in 1970 he walked out the front door with a camera in his hand and, seeing a butterfly on a flower in the front yard, took a picture of it. He had taken dozens of other butterfly photos, but for some reason that one went on to make $17,000 over the next 15 years (triple the figure to adjust for inflation).

One 4th of July in the early 1980s he took some night shots of the fireworks, which he then comped together in his darkroom using traditional photo overlay techniques (this is more than 10 years before Photoshop). Though he had dozens of other fireworks shots (which didn’t sell), this one went on to make $36,000 over the course of many years.

His biggest surprise was when he went to Morocco as part of a tour for other professional photographers. For two weeks they were taken around in a bus to famous spots. He recalls one time they all got out at a famous mosque and stood their photographing its golden dome. He looked to his left and to his right and saw 15 other professional photographers clicking away. He thought to himself, “I’ll never make any money on these shots. We are all pros and we are all taking the same shot.” But the next day they were out in the desert, photographing a ruined, abandoned fort. There were no other human beings in sight, only the bus and the bus driver and the photographers. But then my dad looked off to his right and in the distance, saw a man, dressed all in white, come over a sand dune. The scene reminded my dad of one of his favorite novels, The Martian Chronicles, a scene of infinite desert, and there in the middle, the impossibly lonely figure of a single human being walk across a vast expanse of pure sand. So my dad took that shot, which the other photographers did not think to take, and that became his best selling photo of Africa. Several encyclopedias and travel guides bought the rights to it.

In the late 90s the arrival of Photoshop and CDs full of royalty free images changed the industry, and it became harder to make a living, but my dad found that the top 1% (of that 10% he had not discarded) of his photos continued to generate some good sales.

He worried a great deal about amateur photographers who were giving away the rights to their photos without realizing the value in the occasional photo. When Flickr emerged, he had some deep reservations about their too casual promotion of the most open Creative Commons licenses. When the story broke about Virgin Mobile using a photo of a girl which the novice photographer had marked for “commercial use” my dad wrote several long articles for local amateurs about the dangers of offering photos for commercial use without securing a release from humans that appear in the photos. It was clear, in the Flickr case, that the photographer hadn’t really understood what the words “commercial use” meant. My dad developed a lecture on this subject and was invited to speak at over a 100 amateur camera clubs in New Jersey, Pennsylvania and New York.

All of this is to say, when we take photos, we should be aggressive in defending their value. If we wish to share them with the public, we should all do so having educated ourselves about what rights we are sharing, and what value we are letting go of. Every once in a long while, people take photos that are worth a great deal, and even when they are not interested in making money off that photo, it doesn’t seem fair for others to do so without the permission of the photographer.