In his first President’s Perspective, Oliver Stapleton BSC highlights challenges, inclusion and support for the next generation of cinematographers.

Thank you to Chris Ross BSC for your kind and encouraging words in your final President’s Perspective after four committed years in the role. I am planning on serving two, but such things are never entirely predictable!

When I first realised I might be elected, writing this column was the part I feared most. How do I “follow on” from the wise words of so many Presidents before? Public speaking is manageable (I had plenty of practice when I once thought I might be an actor), but the written word has a certain permanence to it. Once it is on the page, there is no hiding behind delivery or tone: Shakespeare & Co set the bar quite high.

After 40 years “on the road” as a cinematographer I am now dedicating my time to encouraging the next generation of cinematographers to not only learn the technical aspects of the craft but also pay attention to their own well-being as well as the crews they lead.  

We find ourselves in complicated times. At the top end, the UK industry appears extraordinarily strong: major international productions, streamers investing heavily, world-class crews, superb facilities — and, of course, our famous “soft-light” weather. There is visible employment, busy studios, and much to celebrate: our recent BSC Expo showed just how vibrant our industry is.

However, there is another story unfolding beneath that surface. Short films and truly independent production are under severe strain — arguably in the most fragile state it has been in decades. The recent “Money Matters 2” report from the Film and TV Charity makes for sober reading, highlighting financial insecurity, burnout, and the possibility that a significant proportion of the workforce is considering leaving the industry altogether.

That should concern all of us, because our craft depends not only on excellence at scale, but on continuity — on the ability of new entrants to find sustainable ways in.

The future of film

In my role as co-head of cinematography at the NFTS, I am fortunate to work daily with the next generation. We select around 20 students from more than 500 applicants each year. After eight years of doing this, I remain convinced that their talent, curiosity and determination are undiminished. They want to contribute. They want to innovate. They want to work.

But wanting to work and being able to afford to work are no longer the same thing.

Over the past 20 years, the proportion of people from working-class backgrounds entering the UK’s creative industries has fallen markedly. Long-term studies suggest that around 16% of creative workers born in the 1950s and ‘60s came from working-class families; in more recent cohorts that figure has dropped to roughly 8%, with film and television among the least socially diverse areas. Today, only a small minority of workers in the screen sector identify as working class compared with the wider UK workforce.

This is not the result of a single decision or policy, but of a gradual structural shift — rising living costs, freelance instability and a training culture that too often assumes people can subsidise their own entry.

And that brings me to something we, as cinematographers, can influence directly.

The widespread expectation that crews will work for free on short films has become normalised over the past 20 years. It is usually justified in the language of opportunity, collaboration, or passion. Yet in practice it restricts participation to those who can afford to give their labour away. Those without financial support simply cannot remain long enough to build a career.

Historically, our industry did not function like this. Entry came through paid apprenticeships, studio traineeships, and structured progression recognised by unions and employers alike. People learned by working — not by absorbing the cost of working.

If we are serious about access, about diversity of background and about the long-term health of cinematography, we must question practices that unintentionally narrow the field. Paying even a modest wage is not merely an ethical gesture; it is an investment in the sustainability of the workforce we will all rely on.

Producers and directors operate under enormous financial pressure, and solutions are rarely simple. But as heads of departments and collaborators, cinematographers do have influence. We help set expectations. We help define what is considered normal. Small decisions — insisting on minimum pay where possible, supporting structured trainee roles, advocating for realistic budgets: these can accumulate meaningful change.

Training is not someone else’s responsibility. It is a collective one.

Our craft has always depended on knowledge passed from one generation to the next: on set, in workshops, through shared experiences. Ensuring that pathways remain open to people of all backgrounds is essential if we want the next 50 years of British cinematography to be as rich as the last.

I look forward to listening, learning and working with you all over the coming years. I am always open to suggestions and ideas, so please do get in touch.