The problem is that fine art photographers have crawled up the assholes of art patrons who mostly focus on shit that pisses everyone else off so they can feel refined.

Here's Cindy Sherman's "Untitled number 96".

In 2011 it sold for $3.89m. Because fuck you, that's why. You've never seen it. You'll never see it again. It's completely irrelevant to your life.

Here's an Henri Cartier-Bresson. It hangs at SF-MOMA.

It caused a major dust-up when shared to a Flickr pool as "Mario's Bike" because it invited a whole bunch of critique from amateurs as to what was wrong with it. The art world collectively chortled at how horrible Flickr must be rather than pointing out that the difference between "hangs in the MOMA" and "derided on Flickr" is "somebody rich paid for it."

Here's "Afghan Girl" by Steve McCurry. It was on the cover of National Geographic. He made a couple hundred bucks from it. It was one of many images he took that day, towards the end of the day, late.

It is arguably the most famous photo of the past 50 years. You can buy a signed open-edition print of it for around 9 grand.

Here's a random waterfall off Shutterstock.

It's royalty-free. You can buy it for $15 super-hi-res and do whatever you want with it.

Fine art photographers are bullshit artists. The closer you get to that discussion the further up your own navel you end up going. My point? Some chucklefuck arguing that the world is somehow worse now that everyone has a cell phone because he can't get eyelines in his photos? Please.