The Courage to Be Disliked: 5 Lessons for Photographers
Every now and then a book sneaks up on you, disguised as something lightweight and harmless, then proceeds to dismantle your worldview with unnerving calm. The Courage to Be Disliked is one of those books. On the surface, it’s just a quirky conversation between a smug teenager and a maddeningly serene philosopher, but somewhere in that back-and-forth lies the kind of insight that can genuinely change how you see yourself – and the world around you. It’s no exaggeration to say that it’s completely changed my life.
It’s rooted in the ideas of Alfred Adler – one of Freud’s lesser-known contemporaries, minus the cigars and mum issues – and while it’s not written for photographers, I couldn’t help but read it through that particular lens (pun entirely intended). Because buried amongst all the talk of trauma, freedom, and not being a people-pleasing doormat are some pretty solid truths that apply just as much to shooting on the streets of Bangkok as they do to navigating life in general.
Here are five lessons from The Courage to Be Disliked that every photographer – especially those of us afflicted with imposter syndrome, gear envy, or an unhealthy relationship with Instagram likes – should probably tattoo on the inside of our eyelids.
1. Your Photos Don’t Need to Please Everyone
Let’s just say it: not everyone’s going to like your photos. Some people will scroll past your best work and pause instead on a blurry iPhone snap of a half-eaten croissant. Others will ask why your black and white street shot isn’t in colour because “it would really pop.” And the thing is, that’s fine.
One of Adler’s main points is that life becomes infinitely easier once you stop trying to please everyone. Apply that to photography and you get permission – glorious, liberating permission – to stop shooting what you think people want, and start shooting what you want. Rusty doors. Moody shadows. Cats. Old men with no shirts on. Whatever floats your Sony.
“Desire for recognition makes you choose a way of living that is not your own.”
2. Stop Caring What the Internet Thinks
You know that feeling when you post a photo you’re really proud of, and it gets precisely one like (from your mum)? Meanwhile, a mediocre selfie you took last year garners 86 heart reacts and three flame emojis? Yeah. Welcome to the algorithmic hellscape.
Adler (and the book’s annoyingly serene philosopher) would suggest that relying on external validation is a mug’s game. And they’re right. Photography is a solitary act of observation. The moment we start caring more about how a photo will perform than how it feels, we’re just creating content, not art. And nobody got into photography to be a content creator. (Except YouTubers. But they don’t count.)
“Freedom is being disliked by other people.”
3. Your Job is to Take the Photo – That’s It
There’s a lovely concept in the book called “the separation of tasks.” It basically says: do your job, and don’t stress about stuff that’s not your problem.
In photography terms: your job is to take the photo. Whether people like it, share it, or buy it and hang it above their toilet – that’s not your task. Your task is to see, frame, shoot, and maybe do a bit of tasteful Lightroom faffing. That’s it. Anything else is out of your hands, and stressing about it is like yelling at the clouds because they’re not the shape you wanted.
“You are not living to satisfy other people’s expectations.”
4. Other Photographers Are Not Your Competition
Let’s face it: photography is full of wankery. Competitions. Gear comparisons. Flickr groups full of middle-aged men arguing about bokeh. It’s exhausting.
But Adler (and our philosophical friend) argue for “horizontal relationships” – basically, not seeing others as better or worse than you, but as equals. In photography, that means admiring someone’s work without hating your own. Learning from others without feeling threatened. Sharing knowledge without being a gatekeeping knob.
The truth is, we’re all just weirdos with cameras trying to make sense of the world. Let’s act like it.
“All problems are interpersonal relationship problems.”
5. Be Here Now. Seriously.
This one sounds obvious, but bear with me: photography is about being present. Fully, stupidly, head-out-of-your-arse present. You can’t shoot a moment if you’re not in it.
Adler bangs on about living earnestly in the now – and honestly, it’s the best photography advice you’ll never hear at a workshop. When I’m in that state – no phone, no thoughts, just wandering, watching, waiting – that’s when the good stuff happens. The light hits just right. An expression flickers across someone’s face. A dog sticks its head out of a tuk-tuk. If you’re thinking about your next post or the fact your last three shots were probably crap, you miss it.
“Live as if you were dancing. Dance as if you were living.”
So there you have it – five bits of borrowed Japanese-Adlerian wisdom for us snappers. The Courage to Be Disliked might not fix your autofocus issues, or stop you accidentally formatting your SD card (again), but it might just help you make peace with the weird, wonderful, occasionally lonely life of a photographer.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to post a photo I really love and get absolutely zero engagement on it. And I’m okay with that. I think.