The recent furore over Samsung’s ‘fake’ moon shots is probably an overreaction
When is the moon not the moon? Let’s consider all the fuss about Samsung’s S23 Ultra and whether it can really take crisp moon shots. Point the S23 Ultra at the moon and zoom right in, and you’ll be rewarded with a surprisingly detailed image. However, tests have shown that all this detail wasn’t necessarily captured by the camera itself. Instead, when the device identifies that you’re taking a picture of the moon, it adds in extra lunar features that Samsung’s ‘detail enhancement engine’ knows should be there.
Some see this as sleight-of-hand. I see some intriguing psychology. We feel very attached to our phones, and we have a primordial affinity with the moon. It’s a reassuring constant in an uncertain world. There’s something special about turning our most personal devices upwards to contemplate our firmamental companion.
It seems clumsy of Samsung to make the apparent ability to take clear moon photos a key advertising message. Yet this type of camera tech is hardly new. No one has been pretending in-camera machine learning processes don’t already exist. But a nerve has been struck. Once again we are asking what a photograph really is anyway.
The Greek term techne means both technics and art. Technics is utility things, ‘know-how’ that adds to our nature. Art is practical too, but never finished or perfected. Photography is techne. It supplements ocular capacities and externalises memories. It also creates breathtaking beauty that supersedes anything in nature. It exceeds the raw materials provided by nature.
I’d say, the balance in techne is off in the moon shots. Samsung shouldn’t be vilified for doing something quite common. But there is a wider issue with the rapid growth of automated ‘simple fix’ enhancement tools. And this has to do with when the logics of utility overtake the practicalities of art.
