How 108 No Awards Helped Me Become a Better Photographer

By Scott Johnson

I’ve always been competitive.

Ever since I played sport as a kid, I wanted to win. Whether it was British Bulldog in the street outside the house – yes, I AM that old! – or entering my first karate tournament at the age of nine, it wasn’t over until I’d won.

I was also a terrible loser, although I’d like to think I’ve grown out of that as I’ve got older. You’d probably need to ask Lady Johnson to confirm that.

My competitiveness even influenced my photography career.

I started karate as a child because my best mate got his black belt and I thought: “I want one of those – how hard can it be?”

Four years later, I had one.

I joined the Society of Photographers for a similar reason. My former cruise ship photography manager, Paul Schillings, won the International Architectural Photographer of the Year award at the Convention in 2009, along with a rather impressive globe trophy.

I saw it and thought: “I want one of those – how hard can it be?”

And so began my love-hate relationship with photographic competitions.

It took considerably longer than four years to get my hands on one.

My competition journey

Back in the day, there were separate international and UK sections for each monthly category. When those were eventually merged, everyone had to raise their game because the international standard was, and in many cases still is, incredibly high.

It wasn’t until August 2012 that I finally achieved my first Gold Award.

The timing was quite appropriate. London was hosting the Olympic Games and, with my three Golds that month, I calculated that I was roughly 23rd in the medal table – just behind Kazakhstan!

I was hooked.

But, like many photographers who enter monthly competitions, I was also frustrated by one particular result:

No Award.

The challenge

Fast-forward to 2024.

I’d spent the previous three years as part of the end-of-year judging team, helping with Highly Commended upgrades, category winners and the overall winner.

At the end of that period, Terrie Jones, our Head of Judges, effectively tapped me on the shoulder and shouted:

“Johnson! Rest year next year, get entering!”

So I made a promise.

Not just to Terrie, but to myself.

I would enter something every month, no matter what.

My previous rest year had been 2020 – and, given what was happening in the world at the time, I was mainly entering existing images when I did enter.

This time, I had no excuses.

I was going to commit.

And I was in it to win it.

I needed to get creative again

There was another reason why the challenge mattered so much to me.

In my day job as a wedding photographer, I’d been struggling creatively since the pandemic.

The amount of time clients were giving me to create the type of images I was known for had steadily reduced.

The 30 or 40 minutes of bride and groom portrait time had increasingly become something like:

“Can we get it all done in 20 minutes?”

Then came the groups, the huge shot list and the pressure to produce hundreds or even thousands of images.

It was frustrating.

I was increasingly finding myself going through the motions.

Without the monthly competitions, I genuinely think I would have become creatively stagnant.

The competitions gave me a reason to go out and create.

The numbers

During the 11 months in which I was eligible to enter, I submitted 140 images across 19 different categories.

I really went for it.

The results were the best I’d ever achieved:

• 15 Gold Awards
• 17 Highly Commended
• An awarded image in 10 of the 11 months
• A new personal record for Gold Awards

My previous best year had produced six Golds.

So yes, it was a brilliant year.

But there is another number that matters much more to me.

108.

I received 108 No Awards.

And those 108 No Awards are probably what I’m most proud of.

Why I’m proud of 108 No Awards

At first glance, 108 No Awards doesn’t sound like something you’d put in a headline.

But I see them very differently.

My attitude to most things in life is: “Don’t tell me what I can’t do.”

Obviously, I’m not about to grow wings, feathers and a tail and start flying.

But when something is within my control, I’ll do everything I can to prove that I can do it.

Not arrogantly.

More in a:

“You’ll see. Just you wait.”

kind of way.

That’s how I started looking at No Awards.

Each one became a challenge.

I know I’m a good street photographer. I know I’m a good sports photographer.

So getting an award in those categories was satisfying, but it wasn’t necessarily where I had the most to learn.

Children’s Portraiture, Landscapes and Classical Portraits were different.

Those categories pushed me well outside my comfort zone.

And that’s where I had some of the most fun.

Every No Award became an opportunity to try again.

Perhaps the lighting needed changing.

Perhaps the post-processing wasn’t right.

Maybe the backdrop needed to be different.

Maybe the entire approach needed reconsidering.

The important thing was that I had a reason to keep creating.

No Award doesn’t mean no progress

If I didn’t have an image for Documentary or Architecture, I went out and photographed something.

I made the effort.

I kept my promise to myself.

I even put a day in the diary every month where I had nothing else booked and used that time to create.

That discipline became incredibly valuable.

I stopped seeing the competition as simply a place where images were judged.

Instead, it became a monthly creative challenge.

I started viewing the results differently too.

A No Award became:

“Keep trying. You’re almost there.”

A Highly Commended became:

“Wow. You’re really close.”

And a Gold Award became:

“Well done. You’ve kept at it.”

That mindset changed everything.

Even when I didn’t receive an award, I had gained something.

I was developing skills and techniques that I didn’t have before.

After 20 years as a photographer, I’m still learning.

And that’s something I genuinely appreciate.

Don’t be afraid of No Award

There will always be photographers who enter a couple of times, receive No Awards and decide that competitions aren’t for them.

There are also photographers who don’t enter at all because they’re afraid of receiving a No Award.

I understand that.

I used to be exactly the same.

My ego was fragile, and the slightest criticism or rejection could knock me backwards.

But I’ve changed considerably as I’ve grown as an image-maker.

The reality is that having an image rejected doesn’t make you a bad photographer.

It means that, on that particular occasion, your image didn’t meet the judging criteria strongly enough to receive an award.

That’s it.

Learn from it.

Try again.

I honestly believe I’ve grown more as a photographer during that one year than I did during the previous 19 years – and a huge part of that growth came from those 108 No Awards.

I’ve also learned something about myself.

I’ve discovered more about my resilience and mental strength than I did during some of the toughest periods of my professional life.

Make the time to enter

If you’re thinking about entering a photography competition for the first time, or returning after a long break, don’t tell yourself you don’t have time.

Make the time.

And don’t leave it until 23:56 on the final day of the month and then throw something together.

Take your time.

Treat every image with the same care you’d give a client’s photograph.

Think about the lighting, composition, processing, presentation and story.

Don’t ever say:

“I just chucked something in.”

That rushed No Award or Highly Commended image might have been capable of winning Gold if you’d spent a little more time on it.

Which photographer do you want to be?

Ultimately, you have a choice.

You can sit in the stands and watch other photographers taking part.

You can tell yourself that competitions aren’t worth entering.

You can worry about receiving a No Award.

Or you can step into the arena.

You can challenge yourself.

You can experiment.

You can fail.

And then you can try again.

Because that’s where the growth happens.

I’m incredibly proud of the 15 Gold Awards I achieved during my 2024 competition year.

But I’m even prouder of the 108 No Awards.

Those failures forced me to experiment, learn and keep creating.

They made me a better photographer.

So, which kind of photographer are you?

Are you prepared to step into the arena and see what you’re capable of?

I know which one I’d choose.

Every single time.