It seems that society is always migrating toward one of two opposing expectations, and this dichotomy even shows up in the photographic community: hope versus fear.
If you don't come to grips with hope and fear, you're not likely to improve, certainly not improve as fast as you can or should.
First, a bit about myself. Growing up, one of the first thought structures I was exposed to was the scientific method. Hypothesis, test, analyze, refine, repeat. Many of you probably realize that I still practice this today, though perhaps not as formally as scientists do.
I'd call this proactive pragmatism. Some call it lifelong learning.
The reason why I tend to improve at what I do over time is that I take my current knowledge and skills and constantly challenge them. Could I do a little better at capturing the peak moment in a sports sequence? Hmm, I don't know. Let's form a hypothesis: I don't know the sport well enough, or I don't know the team's or the player's tendencies well enough. Okay, so how do I test that? I try learning more about the sport, team, and player and photograph again.
Now that isn't a well-controlled test with all but one variable held constant. No Nobel Prize is going to be awarded for this kind of work. I'm not a scientist, though, I'm just using a simplified version of what scientists do so that I have a structure to work with.
Did my results improve after my study? If yes, then I have potential confirmation of my hypothesis and need to see if I can refine that and do even better. If no, then I need to form a completely new hypothesis and test that.
Hope and Fear in Practice
So where does hope and fear come into play in photography?
In the sports example I just used, curiously both the hoper and the fearer tend to do the same thing instead of what I just suggested: they crank up their frame rate. The person devoted to hope just hopes that the camera is fast enough to capture the "right" moment, while the person devoted to fear is afraid that they aren't able to find the right moment themselves, so they want the camera to try to capture it accidentally.
I remember the days when 2.5 fps was considered miraculous, though it didn't help my own personal hit rate any. Then it was 4 fps, then 6 fps, 8 fps, 12 fps, and these days 30 fps or even more.
None of these gains in frame rate have had much of an impact on whether I get a great sports or wildlife image. I was standing next to another pro photographer at a football game, and he was surprised that I was on and off the shutter during a play. He was down with the shutter release from just before the snap until his buffer filled. Was he getting more keepers than me? No.
My observation of "shutter mashers"—those that rely upon fast continuous frame rates (and focus) to capture action—is that most of what they do is increase their workflow and the number of images they throw away.
With birds in flight, for instance, I'm always struck by how many keep the shutter release pressed and the frames piling up after the bird has passed them. Bird heading towards you: possibly a good image. Bird parallel with you: possibly a good image. Bird flying away from you: not at all likely a good image.
The only way a "flying away from you" photo tends to work is if the bird is clearly flying towards something interesting, and the shutter mashers only get that by accident, and very rarely. But I've seen them stack up 24 or more frames of a bird flying away from them. 24 frames that took up space on their card, that they had to download to their computer, then look at, and eventually throw away (or at least mark them in some way so that they could ignore them later).
Relying upon hope or fear doesn't necessarily make you a better photographer. Worse, it can make you choose gear poorly, too.
The Hopeful Photographer
The person relying upon hope just trusts that their camera maker will get around to offering the performance or feature they need. Given that the best photos are moments in time that generally don't repeat, waiting for a camera maker too long means that you're missing out on potential great images.
While I'm not a great advocate of switching systems (or bodies within a system), there are times when you have to take what the camera maker is or isn't giving you into consideration. Pros who regularly budget for gear upgrades are among some of the most likely brand or camera switchers, as they can't afford to be passing up on the best possible images they could take.
These days the two big "wins" with new gear for pros tend to be in frame rate and focus performance. For me, only focus performance is making any real difference to my work. Anything that helps me get focus where I want it quickly and consistently is an advance I'll take. The rest? Meh.
The Fearful Photographer
Meanwhile, relying upon fear—typically fear of missing out in the gear context—has people switching gear thinking that it's the equipment that causing their photos to be less than they want them to be. Rarely have I seen that to be the case, though it does happen occasionally.
Don't get me wrong: a little bit of hope or fear can be a good thing. I go into every photography session with hope that I can capture something I believe will be present, and with a little bit of fear that I might miss it if I'm not paying close enough attention. The hope comes from study of the subject and anticipation of what I'm photographing. The fear can add a bit of adrenalin and concentration to help me capture it, as long as I don't get carried away with it.
But hope and fear shouldn't be the things you rely upon to improve.
The Pragmatic Photographer
The thing that will help you improve the most is being pragmatic. Set goals and practice.
- Goals are things you can put into hypotheses (e.g. I want to improve X, so maybe if I do Y I'll improve X).
- Practice is a form of testing (and also a form of hypothesis: e.g. if I practice more I'll get better).
Don't go buying camera gear willy nilly thinking it will help you in some way. Test that hypothesis: rent a lens or camera and see if you can verify that a change improves something for you before you commit your big bucks to big change (hmm, hypothesis: new gear will make me better; test: rent it and use it; analysis: look at the results before concluding).
Today's homework assignment: form a hypothesis about something you think might improve your photography, come up with a test to see if it does, perform the test and analyze the results. Repeat often.