The very nature of hubris is, perhaps, that you can’t recognize it in the moment.

When the Leica M11 was launched, I mused that the increased versatility and precision offered by its live view system might risk making the optical viewfinder and rangefinder design look irrelevant. Having now used a camera shorn of those features, I appreciate their value more than ever.

But there was another, unexpected, prompt for self-reflection when it came to working out how to describe the M-EV1. Namely: is it a Mirrorless camera?

What is a Mirrorless camera?

It’s generally been our position that rangefinder cameras aren’t Mirrorless. Somewhat facetiously, I’ve sometimes pointed out that the rangefinder optics themselves typically contain a mirror, but, more seriously, the point is that rangefinders existed for many decades before we ever had need to describe a camera as Mirrorless. And, given the way they are primarily used is radically different (manual focus via an optical viewfinder, rather than via a liveview feed from the sensor), it seemed unnecessary to retroactively include them in the class of cameras we were trying to give a name to.

The M EV1 throws a spanner in the works, though (or perhaps removes one). In every respect it operates like a Mirrorless camera being used in manual focus mode, so surely it’s Mirrorless, in both the small and big ‘M’ senses. And, if it is, then, by extension, all Leica Ms are.

“When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean” – Lewis Carroll’s Humpty Dumpty

And yet, that’s not really how these things work. Mirrorless is an especially awkward example, in that it’s become a noun but its origin is descriptive. But most people will recognize that it doesn’t apply to literally any camera without a mirror, because that would include all compacts, smartphones and most cameras ever made. At which point we could probably just say ‘camera.’

Having helped propose, promote and popularize the term ‘mirrorless’ in the first place, we’re aware of it being an imperfect choice, but it’s the one that’s stuck. So while I look forward to the accusations of Humpty-Dumptyism, I think it’s fair to say enough people recognize what’s meant by it, and hence that it’s legitimate to use it to mean what we intend, rather than what the word itself seems to imply.

Why do you call it full-frame?

This isn’t the only instance of what sounds like an adjective being taken up as a noun in a way that shouldn’t be taken too literally. The term full-frame came about because there was a period during which early DSLR users were pairing film-era lenses on cameras with sensors smaller than “35mm” film. Full-frame was a reference to the size of sensor that mimicked the dimensions of that film, using the full imaging circle for which those lenses were designed.

Yes, the German name for the “35mm” format translates as “small picture.” Award yourself 10 DPR points for trivia knowledge. Then deduct 20 if you think it’s a useful contribution to a discussion about digital photography. Photo: Carey Rose

We only adopted the term because it avoids using milimeters to refer both to focal length and as a descriptor of a format, often in the same sentence. Somewhat ironically, the term “35mm” sensor itself also sounds adjectival, but in reality no part of a “35mm” sensor measures 35mm.

Again, there’s little sense arguing over what the words might appear to mean: the majority of people using the term and hearing the term agree what it means. And that’s the way language works. It doesn’t matter if logically all systems are full-frame, because that’s almost certainly not the meaning that’s someone’s attempting to convey, and it’s not the meaning most people would take from it.

What constitutes medium format?

Apparently, there’s still room to argue, even when the terminology doesn’t appear to describe something specific. For example, the use of ‘medium format’ to describe formats larger than 35mm.

It’s a definition that was already in widespread use, but that some photographers seem determined now to retroactively restrict it solely to formats used in the film era. This ignores the facts that the economies of scaling semiconductors are radically different (and are unlikely to ever make film-mimicking medium and large formats affordable), and that digital significantly outperforms film, so you don’t need the same expanses of sensor to achieve excellent tonal quality and resolution.

Full-frame only directly mimics a film format because there were so many people with significant numbers of then-modern film lenses to prompt its continuation. Photo: Phil Askey

In my opinion, it’s senseless to bind a new technology to the specifics of a dead one and insist on the creation of a new term, when ‘medium format’ serves perfectly well. Especially given that, as we’ve seen, the resultant neologisms such as full-frame and Mirrorless might prove even more objectionable.

Does it actually matter?

So what of the M EV1? Is it a Mirrorless camera? Sort of. Probably. Why not? You could see it as the exception that proves the rule, or recognize that it’s a question to which the answer doesn’t matter.

Rangefinders sell in such small numbers that it really doesn’t matter whether the person speaking is including them, when they say Mirrorless, or whether the person hearing them assumes they are or aren’t. Either way both probably know, from context, what was meant, so the distinction becomes irrelevant.

It’s not just photographers who have this problem. The name for modern pedals that cyclists clip their shoes into? ‘Clipless.’ Photo: Richard Butler

The remaining ambiguity will leave room in the margins for someone to say “but what about the M EV1?” or “medium format only refers to 645 and larger.”

But that brings us back to the issue of self-reflection. It’s worth asking yourself: do you really believe the language is unclear, or that anyone’s being misled? Or do you just want to beat someone over the head with a piece of arcane, esoteric knowledge that you happen to have acquired?

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