We all like to be liked. It’s part of the human condition. It makes us feel good when we know somebody else likes us.
But being liked isn’t everything.
I attend a number of networking groups every week, where we get to know other businesspeople and the goods and services they have to offer. On the principle that “people do business with people they know, like and trust”, these groups encourage us to meet with each other one-to-one, outside of the formal group setting, over lunch or a cup of coffee, and get to know each other better. A good idea, if you ask me. 
Recently, in meeting with some of these people over a cup of joe and an apple danish, it was made known to me that some people in the meetings are … disturbed … by the photographs that I bring and share, particularly by the fact that a number of them are of boys without shirts on.
Now that clearly doesn’t bother me, and I understand that, whatever their reasons, some people object to my photographs. Which is fine, to each his own, as the old saying goes.
Which brings me back to the idea of being liked.
Life should not be a popularity contest, and neither should art.
It’s been asserted that being an artist is one of the most profoundly selfish things a person can do. I’m inclined to agree, at least in this case. I make the photographs that I make, because they’re the kind of photographs that I want to look at, that I want to hang on my walls, and that I want to make more of. The only person that I’m aiming to please when I pick up the camera is myself.
That may seem, on it’s surface, to contravene one of the fundamental principles of running a business, which states that it’s the client that needs to be pleased, but I think you’ll find, on deeper inspection, that this is, in fact, not the case.
Every good businessperson knows that their product or service is not always the right one, at the right time, for every person they come in contact with. Trying to be everything to everyone is among the surest ways of putting yourself out of business. You can never please everyone, no matter how hard you try.
Every good businessperson also knows that in order to succeed, you have to have a “Unique Selling Proposition” - something that sets you apart from every other business that’s out there.
For the artist, that “Unique Selling Proposition” is built right in - it’s your selfish desire to make things that please you. Your target market is the other people that are out there who share your aesthetic enough to want to pay you for the enjoyment that your work brings into their lives.
My selfish desire to make photographs that I like, is what makes my photographs different from those of all the other photographers out there. The desire of some other photographers to make only those photographs that will “satisfy” the most people, and won’t offend anyone, is why their work is basically indistinguishable from the work of all the other photographers out there that hold the same attitude. By “selfishly” pleasing myself, I ensure that I have something unique to offer others.
A wise man once told me that if my art isn’t offending someone, I’m not doing it right. In fact, there are certain people I don’t ever want as fans, including the likes of Pat Robertson, James Dobson, people who want to ban Jock Sturges’ and Sally Mann’s books, or indeed anybody who wants to ban anybody’s books. I don’t really care what those people think about my work, because I have no respect for them whatsoever.
Which brings me, once again, back around to being liked.
When it comes right down to it, the most important person I need to be liked by is … me. What does it matter if anybody else likes my photographs, if I don’t like them? What does it matter if anybody else likes me, if I don’t like me?