Q: Misa, what’s wrong with photography today?
A: Nothing, it’s doing exactly what the market wants.
Fast, fake, and emotionally recyclable.
Everyone wants authenticity, as long as it’s approved and easy to digest.
We don’t make images anymore, we manufacture comfort.
Everyone is talking about authenticity.
It’s the new marketing religion, raw, unfiltered, real.
Grain, sweat, pores, “imperfections.”
Except it’s all curated. All managed. All approved.
We’ve turned truth into a preset.
The Cult of Authenticity
In 2025, everyone wants to look honest, no one wants to be honest.
Brands want “real people,” but they still audition them.
Models are told to “just be themselves,” right after a stylist decides what that self should wear.
Even the so-called “raw portraits” are staged authenticity, perfectly imperfect, algorithmically optimized to look human.
And next year, 2026, the trend will grow: even more “authentic,” more “inclusive,” more “real.”
Because nothing sells better than sincerity, when it’s safely designed.
When Inclusion Becomes Decoration
Let’s talk about “diversity.”
Every campaign now includes it, every agency now preaches it.
But inclusion without understanding is decoration, not progress.
It’s not representation; it’s risk management.
You don’t fight stereotypes by turning them into a mood board.
You do it by giving people authorship, not just exposure.
But that requires respect, and respect is slower than a trend.
The Photographer’s Erosion
Somewhere along the way, the photographer stopped being the author.
We became service providers. Button pushers.
Machines calibrated to deliver a “look.”
Since when did that happen?
Since we started believing that photography was about what’s in front of the lens, instead of who stands behind it.
A subject may have presence, but the photographer has vision.
And vision cannot be automated, sponsored, or crowdsourced.
The Coming Year
2026 will not bring better photography.
It will bring more images, faster, cheaper, emptier.
AI-generated “moments,” digital skin that never wrinkles, diversity without depth.
But a few, a rare few, will resist.
They’ll go back to the simplest rebellion: to wait, to look, to mean it.
They’ll work slower, shoot less, and feel more.
And that’s where real photography will still exist, in the space between control and truth.
Final Reflection
Photography isn’t dying. It’s just being buried under convenience.
But art has always survived imitation.
It’s what it does best.
The only real question left is this: when the world finishes pretending to be real, will anyone still know how to see?
MISA
