Big YouTube Channels Are Hurting Your Growth as a Photographer

Justin Mott pondering how bitter he is at YouTube photographers.

I made a video about this on my YouTube channel a while back, and it stirred up some strong opinions. As expected, the first reaction from critics was, “You’re just jealous. You wish your channel was as big as theirs.”

If that’s your stance, nothing I say here will change your mind—but for what it’s worth, I’m not a jealous person. I’m 47 years old. I don’t measure my self-worth by follower count, and if I look up to anyone, it’s because of the quality of their photography, not their online popularity.

And no—I’m not going to name names. That’s not what this is about. I’m not here to stir up drama or make anyone feel bad. This is about a bigger issue in the photography education space on YouTube.

Let me be clear: I don’t believe you need a fancy client list to teach photography. You can be a solid educator without being a working pro. Gear reviewers can be great teachers. Some world-class photographers are terrible educators, and some average shooters are brilliant at explaining technique.

But let’s be honest—most big YouTube photography channels are centered on gear reviews. And over time, some of these creators start to believe their own hype. They drift into giving advice on things they have little real-world experience with—storytelling, composition, commercial work, and even calling themselves "travel photographers" or "street pros" when they’ve never actually been paid to do that kind of work.

That’s where things get messy.

I’m not talking about the many YouTubers who share basic techniques and do it well. Some of them are genuinely helpful, even if they lack field experience. But others begin to present themselves as experts based on their own work, which is often average at best—and that creates confusion for amateurs looking to grow or go pro.

Here’s a simple check:
Go to your favorite YouTube photographer’s website.
Do they even have one?
If they do—can you see a body of work that feels cohesive, developed, and client-ready?
Or is it just random snapshots, basic compositions, and surface-level work?

Too often, it’s the latter.

Many of these creators have slick videos and big followings, but their photography lacks depth. It’s basic, sometimes even soulless. And yet amateurs start treating it like gospel. They mistake confidence and video production for expertise.

These creators aren't speaking from experience. They're regurgitating content. It's not original. It's often not even accurate.

Then they start teaching. Hosting workshops. Selling courses and downloads. And aspiring photographers, who just want to get better, fall into the trap.

Look—I’ll put it like this. You don’t need to go to culinary school to be a great chef. Some people are self-taught and fantastic. But a chef who's worked in real kitchens, under pressure, who’s plated dishes for paying customers, has a lot more to offer than someone who just cooks at home and makes slick recipe videos.

There are always exceptions, but I stand by the general point.

That’s why I respect sites like PetaPixel. They do what they do—review gear—and they do it well. They don’t try to be something they’re not.

I’m not bitter. I’m passionate. I love teaching. I love seeing people improve. I love those lightbulb moments when amateur photographers break past their own barriers and start making intentional images.

There’s room for all types of teachers. But first, ask yourself:
What do you want from your photography?
Are you shooting for personal growth, for clients, for legacy, for expression?

Once you figure that out, be intentional about who you learn from. Know who you’re watching for entertainment, and who you’re watching to truly level up.

I use YouTube for both—but I’m very deliberate about which channels I trust for what.

Here is a link to my editorial photography portfolio along with my commercial photography and video production business.