Trying to raise the bar when others just don’t care

There’s a particular kind of frustration that comes with aspiring to a higher standard, only to watch people in positions of public trust blatantly disregard it while also paying it lip service. There’s nothing new about this dichotomy, but the tension it creates seems to have increased exponentially in this new century. We feel it in our communities, in our creative work, and in how we navigate civic life. The UFA™ Code of Ethics & Conduct isn’t just boilerplate policy buried in a web folder. Based on the organization’s Core Values of Professionalism, Integrity, and Respect, it’s intended to help engender greater trust in a collaborative art form and industry. But what happens when the systems around you seem to reward doing the opposite?

For many filmmakers, creative professionals, and community organizers, ethics is not theoretical. It’s about how we treat people on set, how we represent our work, and how we credit others. Keeping those commitments in focus helps maintain trust—among each other and those watching. Yet it’s hard not to feel disheartened when government agencies or public servants, who should model transparency and fairness, engage instead in pettiness, bias, or self-protection.

Maintaining ethical consistency in those moments isn’t just difficult—it feels lonely. It’s easier to compromise, to look away, or even mimic toxic behaviors if that’s what gets results. The UFA™ Ethics Code exists to help us rise above such behavior. Doing our best to uphold its values means refusing to trade personal integrity for convenience, even when it costs time, access, or opportunity. That’s not idealism—that’s leadership.

Another dimension to this challenge is emotional fatigue. When one watches repeated examples of public misconduct or bureaucratic stonewalling, cynicism can creep in. For creative professionals who already face economic instability and public skepticism, it’s tempting to say, “Why bother?” But staying true to ethical standards is exactly what separates constructive discontent from burnout. It’s better to document, not demonize; to question with professionalism; to seek facts before outrage.

In practice, living and working by higher standards often means doing small things that go unseen: giving proper credit when it’s inconvenient, paying contractors promptly, admitting when one's wrong, or challenging a harmful norm without turning it into a personal attack. These habits ripple outward. They signal integrity in an environment where others may have forgotten what it looks like.

It’s not about moral superiority; it’s about stewardship. As filmmakers, we shape narratives. The stories we choose to tell—and the way we choose to tell them—either reinforce cynicism or restore accountability. By aligning our practices with the Ethics Code despite the hypocrisy displayed by others, we become proof that ethical standards aren’t naïve; they’re necessary.

The truth is, there will always be forces that test our principles. But the real measure of character—and community—is what we do when no one’s watching. Holding to the values of Professionalism, Integrity, and Respect when others won’t isn’t easy. It’s exhausting, imperfect work. But it’s the kind of work that keeps a creative community healthy—and gives the next generation an example worth following.

Disclosure: The author periodically uses a Large Language Model (LLM) agent when composing initial drafts of expository articles.

[Current Revision: January 22, 2026]

CineCraft SLC

CineCraft SLC is for anyone who loves movies, arts & crafts, and multitasking. Where the flickering glow of a classic movie meets the focused hum of creative hands at work, with recurring events at popular venues like Brewvies in Salt Lake City and Cargo Cinema in Springville, that marry the love of film with the joy of crafting. Far from a passive viewing experience, CineCraft invites attendees to dive into a hands-on project while a curated film plays in the background, transforming a simple movie night into an immersive creative session.

For anyone involved in film production, especially those in the art department, this concept is nothing short of inspiring. Think about it: production designers could find new ways to approach set dressing by observing the visual storytelling of a film while simultaneously building small props or sketching design ideas. Prop makers might discover novel material uses or construction techniques by engaging with a craft project during a screening, perhaps even recreating a small detail from the very film they're watching.

CineCraft offers a unique opportunity for both active skill development and passive absorption of cinematic influence. It's a chance to meet others with similar interests and passions, share ideas, and draw direct inspiration from the masters of visual storytelling on screen. The tactile experience of crafting while watching a film can deepen one’s connection to the movie's aesthetic and thematic elements, sparking new ideas for one’s own projects. Whether one brings their own craft or purchases a CineCraft kit, the experience transforms film appreciation into a productive and endlessly imaginative experience. It's a must-attend for anyone who believes that the best way to understand art is to create it.

CineCraft SLC is a Utah Filmmakers™ Associate Event.

The opinions expressed in this blog are those of the authors and—especially where guest posts are concerned—do not necessarily reflect the official policies and/or practices of the Utah Filmmakers™ Association, its Officers and/or Associates.