Why Buying a Point-and-Shoot Camera Is Pointless

By Craig Boehman | February 2, 2025 (updated)

Why Buying a Point and Shoot Is Pointless. Header image of a man holding up a ridiculously small camera.

DISCLAIMER:

I’m done chasing the perfect point-and-shoot camera. After years of searching, testing, and hoping one would fit my workflow, I’ve realized they’re just not for me. This isn’t a hit piece against them—if you love yours, keep shooting. I’m not here to dissuade anyone from buying, using, or enjoying them, especially the models I mention or link to. This is just my personal rant. Some might agree, most probably won’t, and that’s fine. If you landed here through a search and want to know why I’ve decided to cut these cameras out of my life for good, read on.


I’m Done

I’m done. I’ve officially closed the chapter on my years-long search for the perfect compact camera. No more scouring online listings, no more YouTube deep dives comparing specs, no more debating whether a 28mm fixed lens is versatile enough. The Ricoh GRIII, the Sony RX100 series, and every other so-called premium compact camera? They’re all dead to me.

The final nail in the coffin? Supply chain disasters, price gouging, and a complete lack of essential accessories—especially in India.

The Sony ZV-1 (which I still own) and the Ricoh GRIII were my last serious contenders. The Ricoh, with its sharp 28mm fixed lens, was built for street photography, while the ZV-1 was the unlikely choice—marketed primarily to vloggers but surprisingly adaptable for street work. I found ways to make it work, appreciating its compact form and solid image quality. Both cameras have a cult following for a reason, but none of that matters if keeping them running is a hassle. The ZV-1 is still functional, but the Ricoh? Good luck finding batteries. Good luck actually finding the camera new. At the actual list price!

I tried. I checked local shops. I checked major online retailers. Nothing. It felt like I was searching for a lost relic, not a simple camera battery. I even considered ordering from abroad, but with import duties, ridiculous shipping fees, and the ever-present risk of items getting "lost" in customs, it wasn’t worth the headache.

And here’s the kicker—it’s not just me. Right now, as I write this, frustrated Ricoh users worldwide are struggling to get their hands on one. Even if you can find a new Ricoh GRIII for sale, good luck securing extra batteries, chargers, or even a simple grip. At some point, the hassle outweighs the reward.

I even reached out to the Ricoh supplier in India, and what he told me was baffling. According to him, there’s an obligatory waiting period before they’re even allowed to bring batteries in. I’ve never heard of this before, but apparently, it exists. Yet, somehow, this issue doesn’t seem to affect the bigger camera brands. When I bought the Sony A7III, I could find batteries all over India—no waiting period, no shortages. And this was for the newer, larger batteries from the updated Sony E Mount lineup. There’s something to be said for how big companies get their way. Same with iPhones. I’m not worrying about not getting something I need.

Let me be clear—I’m not making this switch just because I couldn’t get a Ricoh GRIII with spare batteries in India. That’s just the latest slap in the face, the final straw on an already overloaded pile of frustration. The Sony ZV-1 had its strengths, but I was never a fan of that zoom lens constantly sticking out, making it feel impractical for the rugged streets of Mumbai. If anything, I’ve realized I actually prefer a fixed lens with no moving parts—hello, smartphones. This isn’t just about one camera I couldn’t get or another that didn’t quite fit. It’s years of battle fatigue, wasted time, and sheer frustration with an industry that refuses to make compact cameras that actually make sense.

So, despite years of resisting, despite my many grievances about smartphone ergonomics, touchscreen frustrations, and the cold, impersonal feel of digital-only controls, I finally did it.

I adopted the iPhone 16 Pro as my second camera.

It wasn’t a decision I made lightly. I spent years pushing back against the idea of using a smartphone as a serious photography tool. Sure, I’d used my Android phone for casual shots, but I never considered it a true replacement for a dedicated camera. But after months of testing the iPhone 16 Pro, I realized something: This phone does everything I needed a compact camera to do—and more.

It has multiple focal lengths built into a single device (13mm, 24mm, 48mm, and 120mm). It shoots ProRAW with insane computational photography capabilities. The Slow Shutter Cam app has completely transformed how I approach ICM (Intentional Camera Movement) photography. And, most importantly, it’s always with me.

That’s the brutal truth: the best camera is the one you can actually use.

So, I’m done. No more compact cameras. No more chasing overpriced, half-baked tech that still acts like WiFi is some revolutionary feature. No more wondering why a dedicated camera—something built for one damn purpose—can’t even match the tech crammed into a device meant for texting and doom-scrolling. Autofocus? Slower than a drunk crossing the street. Image quality? Somehow still losing ground to computational photography. Video? A complete joke—garbage stabilization, frame rate limitations straight out of 2015, and compression that makes everything look like it was shot on a toaster.

And let’s talk about the UI disaster—menus that lag, touchscreen controls that feel like they belong in a gas station ATM, and button layouts designed by people who clearly don’t use cameras. Meanwhile, smartphones are out here processing RAW files in real-time, faking depth of field better than most compacts can actually achieve, and letting you shoot, edit, and publish all from the same device.

I spent years searching for the right compact, convinced the perfect one was out there. Turns out, it wasn’t. Compact cameras had their chance, and they blew it. I’m not wasting any more time chasing something that refuses to evolve when there’s finally a better alternative, one that fits in my pocket and doesn’t collect lint in that cheap zoom lens that protrudes and protracts like a crack fiend trying to focus on his next hit.

I’m done with it all.

The iPhone 16 Pro has officially taken over as my everyday, pocketable street photography tool. Time to get back to street photography and making art!


Old Article:
“Why Buying a Point-and-Shoot Camera in India Is Pointless In 2022”

The original article from October 14, 2021, dives deeper into my past thoughts and annoyances about buying a point-and-shoot, particularly in India. If you're interested, you can download it below. However, the article above better reflects where I stand now—what's changed, what no longer makes sense, and the choices I’m making to keep street photography a core part of my work.

 
 
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