Shoot, Edit, Publish: The Case for Digital in a Film-Loving World

The Toaster That Started It All

In a recent BBC article, A ‘Toaster with a Lens’: The Story Behind the First Handheld Digital Camera, I was reminded just how radical digital photography was at its birth. In 1975, Kodak engineer Steven Sasson built the first prototype of a digital camera on Kodak’s dime. It looked like a toaster and recorded a 0.01 megapixel image onto a cassette tape. It took 23 seconds to process a single black-and-white image.

Kodak executives laughed. They didn’t see the point. What they missed was that Sasson had just lit the fuse that would blow up their entire business.

I grew up surrounded by Polaroids and film. That was photography for decades in my world. But when digital arrived, even in its primitive form, I knew it was the future. I’ve always leaned into tech, even if I didn’t buy the first round. And when I started using digital, what hit me hardest was the instant feedback. No waiting. No lab errors. No surprises two days later. Just shoot, check, adjust, move on. It felt like I finally had control.

Digital wasn’t just convenient. It was a breakthrough. And it was only the beginning.

The Greatest Hits of Film Fanboys (and Why They Don’t Hold Up)

Film lovers repeat the same tired lines. Film is more intentional. It has soul. It slows you down. It forces you to get it right in-camera. It sounds poetic, but it’s mostly self-importance wrapped in nostalgia.

Digital doesn’t make you careless. If you shoot without intention, that’s on you. Anyone can spray and pray on film, too. Discipline doesn’t come from a roll of Kodak; it comes from the person behind the lens.

Soul (if you want to use that term) isn’t built into a medium. You want soul? Shoot something honest. Tell a story that hits. Take a picture of something that means something to you. You can do that on a phone if you know what the hell you’re doing. Grain doesn’t equal depth.

Slowing down is fine when it serves the work. But calling it a virtue across the board is lazy. Digital can be fast when needed or thoughtful when you want it to be. You control the tempo, not the camera.

Getting it right in-camera is not a film-exclusive concept. Every serious photographer knows that mistakes are mistakes, no matter the medium. If your exposure sucks, no one’s handing you a gold star because it was shot on Portra.

This whole myth around film being sacred is a distraction. It’s a process, not a religion. Use it if you love it. But don’t pretend it’s above criticism or that digital is beneath it.

Why Digital Fits the World We Actually Live In

Digital photography works with how we live and work today. You shoot, check, edit, deliver. It matches the speed of everything else. There’s no waiting for film to come back. No guessing. No crossing your fingers in a darkroom.

Mistakes aren’t mysteries. You see them right away and adjust. That kind of feedback builds real skill. Not theory, not nostalgia. Just repetition, correction, improvement. You learn faster because digital doesn’t hide your flaws.

Shooting more doesn't mean mindless. It means more chances to get to the real shot. You’re not paralyzed by cost. You’re free to experiment and push through your own bad habits without burning a hole in your wallet.

Editing isn’t cheating. It's craft. It’s no different than working a print in a darkroom, except now you have more control and no chemicals eating your hands. You shape the image until it looks like what it felt like.

It’s also cheaper. More accessible. You don’t need a darkroom or a scanner or a fridge full of film stock. You just need a camera and a point of view. That’s what opened the floodgates for a whole new generation of photographers.

Digital isn’t trying to be sacred. It’s trying to be useful. That’s why it works.

Digital Gets the Work Out Into the World

Making a powerful image is only half the job. Getting it seen matters just as much. Digital makes that possible. You can shoot, edit, and publish within minutes. Your work doesn’t sit in a lab. It moves. And it can move as fast as you want it to.

This reach isn’t just about convenience. It’s about impact. Photographers documenting war, injustice, revolution, or joy can put their images in front of the world the same day they’re taken. That’s power. That’s relevance. Film doesn’t give you that.

No gatekeepers. No waiting. No risk of the one lab in town screwing up your roll. You shoot something that matters, and you can share it while the moment still means something.

Digital changed photography not just by how we shoot, but by how we connect. A single image can go from your camera to a global audience in moments. That kind of reach turns a photograph into a statement.

Digital Has Its Own Voice

The idea that digital lacks character is bullshit. It’s just different. Digital doesn’t need to look like film to be valid. It doesn’t need grain, halation, or soft contrast to earn respect. It has its own voice, and when it’s used right, it hits hard.

The precision of digital can be powerful. Sharp lines. Clean blacks. Deep color. You can choose subtle or surreal. You’re not bound to a lab or a stock. You’re in control from capture to output, and that’s part of the aesthetic.

If you want the look of film, go get it. Emulation tools are everywhere. But replicating film isn’t the only goal. You can use digital to go somewhere film never could. The medium opens up creative possibilities instead of locking you into someone else’s formula.

There’s nothing wrong with liking the look of film. But digital does not need to imitate it to be taken seriously. The strength of an image comes from the choices behind it. Framing, light, timing, intent. Not the format. If the work connects, the tool becomes irrelevant.

Discipline Is a Mindset, Not a Format

People love to say that film teaches discipline. You only get 36 shots. You have to slow down. You have to think. That’s fine if you need a limitation to feel focused, but it’s not built into the film itself. It’s a rule you’re following because you chose to, not because the medium forces you to become a better photographer.

You can set the same limits with digital. No one’s stopping you from shooting 36 frames and calling it a day. You can take your time, think carefully, and work with intention on any camera. You just have to decide to do it.

The difference is that digital gives you the option to break those limits when the situation demands it. If the scene unfolds fast or unpredictably, you are ready. You are not stuck reloading or second-guessing because of scarcity. You are free to move with the moment.

Discipline has never come from the tool. It comes from how serious you are about what you are doing. If you need to burn money on film to take your work seriously, that’s your problem or preference. But don’t pretend the medium is the reason for your focus.

It’s Not Film vs Digital. It’s Thoughtful Work vs Romanticized Bullshit

The argument about which format is better has always missed the point. This isn't a fight between analog and digital. It’s a question of whether the work says something or just hides behind nostalgia.

Shoot film if you love the process. If you enjoy the tactility, the waiting, the look. That’s valid. But don’t act like it makes the work more meaningful by default. Don’t confuse limitation with depth.

Shoot digital if you want speed, control, and flexibility. If your focus is on getting the image out into the world and having full command over how it looks. That’s also valid. There’s no need to apologize for it.

Both mediums are just tools. They do not care what you believe about them. They only care what you do with them. The photograph either hits or it doesn’t. The audience either feels something or scrolls past.

Good work is good work. The rest is posturing and pretention.