Hello there Reader,
The other day, my friend “scared off” a bear.
The bear was getting too close, so she followed the safety guidance for the situation and made her presence known:
(“Hey, bear.” is the official way!)
The bear moved away. Nobody was hurt. It should have been the end of the story.
Except a nearby photographer, with an absolutely enormous telephoto lens, yelled at my friend for scaring away the bear and ruining her shot.
And I’m going to say this plainly:
Wildlife does not owe us content.
It doesn’t matter how long we waited, how far we traveled, how expensive our equipment was, or how perfect the light looked. We are not entitled to a photograph, especially when getting it would compromise human safety or an animal’s well-being.
I understand the disappointment. Watching an incredible image disappear into the woods can be frustrating.
But frustration does not mean someone wronged us.
When we pick up a camera, it’s easy to develop tunnel vision. A bear becomes the shot. A person crossing the trail becomes an obstacle. A guide ending an encounter becomes the reason we missed our opportunity.
That’s when passion can quietly turn into entitlement.
The photograph comes last
When priorities collide, this is the order I want guiding my decisions:
- Human safety
- The subject’s well-being
- Rules, closures, and professional guidance
- Other people’s ability to experience the moment
- The photograph
The shot comes last.
That doesn’t mean photography isn’t important. It means photography is never more important than the living creature inside the frame or around it.
Ask yourself this
Before moving closer, following an animal, crossing a boundary, or pressuring someone to keep an encounter going, ask:
Would I still do this if I weren’t carrying a camera?
If the answer is no, the desire for the photograph may be clouding your judgment.
Sometimes the ethical choice will cost you the image you wanted. You may leave without the close-up, the perfect composition, or the photograph you imagined.
That is not a failure.
Missing a photograph is disappointing. Causing harm, or expecting someone else to compromise safety so you can get it, matters far more.
The woman’s enormous telephoto lens wasn’t the problem. In fact, that lens was designed to help her photograph wildlife from farther away.
The problem was the belief that carrying it gave her more right to the encounter.
It didn’t.
I would rather miss the photograph than become the reason it exists.
Stay safe out there,
Alexandra | The Bucket List Mermaid
Inside this week’s Shutterbugs Gone Wild, I’m taking this conversation further with the Ethical Adventure Photographer’s Field Guide - including my ethical hierarchy, common red flags, real-life scenarios, and ways to capture stronger wildlife photographs without demanding more from your subject.
P.S. Look at this shot that I got (from a safe distance) of an eagle, salmon, and bear! See? It's possible!
