What We Lost When Cameras Got Better — and How Fujifilm Is Trying to Give It Back
What We Have Lost
I remember…
I remember when at the age of 16 I bought my first Fujifilm Quicksnap camera.
We were going on a 4-day trip with my classmates to Siena.
And I remember how I cherished those 27 shots — how intentional I tried to make every single one of them. Every frame mattered so much to me.
The photos might have been flawed — soft, overexposed, touched by grain and blur. But the moments were flawless. I waited for them, guarded each frame, and only pressed the shutter when I felt that it truly mattered.
But somehow all of that went lost with the arrival of digital.
That sense of loss — of meaning, of connection — is exactly what YouTuber Gerald explores in his video “What We Lost When Cameras Got Better”. He looks back at what we unknowingly traded away when photography became effortless, and how we might get those things back.
We thought we were upgrading to digital.
But we weren’t — we were trading.
And this is what we lost in the exchange, according to Gerald.
Intentionality –
Film forced us to think before shooting because every frame was limited and costly.
Digital made shooting cheap and endless, which made each photo mean less.
Presence –
With film, you stayed in the moment.
With digital, we’re constantly checking screens, pulled out of the experience.
Anticipation –
Waiting to see developed photos made us value them more.
Instant previews make us forget instantly — memories don’t have time to form.
Imperfection –
Film had character: grain, light leaks, and “happy accidents.”
Digital and AI perfection removed uniqueness; everything looks the same.
Mindfulness –
Shooting film is a tactile, focused ritual.
You set ISO once, advance manually, and truly participate in the process.
Digital gives results; film teaches discipline.
Conclusion
Technology didn’t just upgrade photography — it also caused a trade-off.
We gained convenience but lost meaning.
Unlimited shots led to unlimited forgetting, while limitations gave us value.
How to Get It Back
You don’t need to abandon digital. Instead, adopt the film mindset.
By slowing down and paying attention, you’ll remember your photos — and the moments — again.
So What has Fujifilm to Do with This?
In the video, Gerald is seen owning this Fujifilm camera.
But that’s not why we’re mentioning Fujifilm here—nor does Gerald bring them up.
Ultimately, Fujifilm is also part of the very “problem,” producing cameras capable of 30fps bursts, advanced subject tracking, and all the other bells and whistles of modern technology.
Yet, unlike many others, Fujifilm has a deep photographic heritage and seems to understand the trade-offs that come with all this technological power.
And that’s why Fujifilm at least tries to do something different—to offer an alternative shooting experience. A few examples:
Fujifilm X-Pro3 hidden screen
Many criticized the Fujifilm X-Pro3 for its hidden screen, but in the end, it was Fujifilm’s attempt to encourage exactly what Gerald advocates for — slowing down, staying present, and resisting the urge to constantly check the LCD.
Retro Dials
Many Canon, Sony, and Nikon shooters will tell you that Fujifilm’s dedicated dials slow you down unnecessarily. And I get it — it’s definitely quicker to rely on front and rear command dials. Quicker, yes… but nowhere near as satisfying or enjoyable.
That’s part of what we’ve lost in the shift to modern digital cameras: the joy not only of the final image, but of the process itself — the tactile, deliberate act of taking a photo.
And by the way, you can still use Fujifilm’s retro-styled cameras just like a conventional PSAM camera if you prefer — which, in my opinion, makes Fujifilm’s approach the superior one.
An example:
I love using retro dials. I love the satisfying click they make as I turn them. I enjoy the slower, more intentional process they encourage.
But when I had to photograph my friend’s wedding, things were different — the light changed constantly, moments came and went in seconds, and I needed to be as fast as possible. So, I switched my X-T5 into what I like to call “ignore-the-retro-dials mode” and controlled everything with the command dials instead.
It’s perfect: when I have time and want to enjoy the process, I use the retro dials. But when the pressure’s on, I can disable them and shoot fast.
Adding Imperfections with Film Simulations
Obviously, Fujifilm’s film simulations are an attempt to recreate the look of the past.
But there’s more to it than that.
This obsession with technical perfection that Gerald laments — the one that strips our images of their soul — is something Fujifilm actively tries to push back against.
In a world where grain is seen as the enemy and ever more advanced algorithms are designed to eliminate it, Fujifilm went the opposite way. They created the film simulation ACROS, which intentionally add grain and imperfection to restore character and depth.
And let’s not forget the X-Trans sensor layout itself, which delivers a more organic, film-like grain structure compared to the more digital noise o Bayer sensors.
- Meet Minami-San, Fujifilm’s Color Guru Since 50 Years and Now Bringing Fuji’s Color Science from Film to Digital
- Jonas Rask: ACROS is Magic
That’s Fujifilm’s attempt to bring back character — to value soul over sterile perfection.
Experimenting
Say what you want about the Fujifilm X half, but I think we can all agree that Fujifilm is at least trying to bring back some of that lost film magic. Whether it’s through features like the 36-shot limitation before you can review your images, or the film advance-style lever, there’s a clear intent behind it.
You might not like it — you might even call it a gimmick — but it shows that Fujifilm understands what we’ve lost along the way, and in its own way, is trying to give a bit of it back to us.
Force us to Think at Our Image Before Pressing the Shutter
When I had my first Fujifilm Quicksnap, I tried to be as mindful as possible with every single shot. I had just 27 frames to capture four days in Siena with my friends, and every one of them mattered.
Today, the temptation is to simply fire off hundreds of frames and trust that somewhere in there, a few keepers will emerge. But that’s exactly what we’ve lost along the way — mindfulness.
And once again, Fujifilm is one of the few brands actually trying to design cameras that bring this mindfulness back.
Take the aspect ratio dial on the Fujifilm GFX100RF, for example. It’s a small touch, but a powerful one — a constant invitation to think before shooting, to experiment with different framings, to see if another ratio tells the story better. The dial is there to remind you that composition matters.
Even the film simulation dial can serve the same purpose: it makes you slow down, look at the light, feel the mood, and ask yourself if maybe a different simulation could capture that atmosphere just a bit better.
Conclusion:
In the end, Fujifilm isn’t just building cameras — they’re building experiences. In a world obsessed with speed and perfection, Fujifilm dares to remind us that photography is about feeling, seeing, and remembering. And maybe that’s the real upgrade we all need.
Sure, in their attempt to give us back some of what we’ve lost, Fujifilm might sometimes come up with questionable ideas — features that appear on one camera and disappear forever on the next. But others stick around.
And that’s exactly why I always applaud Fujifilm: because they dare to try. They dare to be different, to experiment, and to design cameras that don’t just take pictures — but help us reconnect with the joy, the intention, and the soul of photography we’ve slowly lost along the way.