People outside the industry use “camera operator” and “DP” interchangeably all the time. I get it. Both jobs involve cameras. Both people stand near the lens. But on a network television set, these are two very different roles, and confusing them will get you sideways looks from the crew faster than showing up late to call time.
I’ve spent 25+ years working in the camera and electrical department, with 60+ credits to my name. I’ve operated on network shows like Station 19, and I’ve also sat in the DP chair on independent projects. The two jobs require overlapping skills, but the day-to-day reality is completely different. Let me break it down.
The director of photography, also called the DP or cinematographer, is the head of the camera department. They’re responsible for the overall visual look of the show or film. That means lighting design, lens choices, camera placement strategy, and working closely with the director to translate the script into images. On a network TV show, the DP is in constant conversation with the director, the gaffer, the key grip, and the showrunner about the visual tone of every scene. It’s a leadership role. You’re making creative decisions and managing a department.
The camera operator is the person physically running the camera during a take. You’re executing the shots. You’re finding the frame, adjusting composition on the fly, following actors through blocking, and making split-second decisions about when to push in or hold wide. On a multi-camera network show, there might be two or three operators working simultaneously, each covering different angles. The DP has designed the overall look. Your job is to deliver it, shot by shot, take by take.
Here’s where it gets interesting, and where most people outside the industry get confused. On smaller productions, especially independent films and low-budget projects, the DP often operates the camera themselves. One person, both roles. That’s how a lot of us come up in the business. You learn to light a scene AND frame the shot because there’s nobody else to hand the camera to.
But on a network television set with a full crew, those jobs are separated for a reason. The pace is relentless. You might be shooting seven or eight pages a day. The DP can’t be looking through a viewfinder while also managing the lighting setup for the next scene. They need to be free to walk the set, talk to the gaffer, check monitors, and plan ahead. The operators need to be locked in on performance, on blocking, on the mechanical precision of the shot.
On the last season of Station 19, the leadership wanted to try a new approach to the show’s already established visual language. They were looking for unique framing choices beyond the traditional shots, including short-siding, extra headroom, off-framing. Working as the C camera operator, I had even more freedom than A and B camera. Traditionally, the A camera holds wider shots and tells the story of the scene as a whole. B camera goes for closer coverage. C camera might complement B with additional angles. But that last season, I was assigned to play around more. Dig for the gold, that moment that neither A nor B could get based on their positions. Find unique angles and framing that added texture to a scene. It was freeing and challenging to come up with a different approach every setup, and it only worked because the DP was handling the big picture while I was free to hunt.
I think the confusion also comes from the fact that, on paper, the camera operator’s job sounds simple. Point the camera, follow the action. But anyone who’s operated on a network drama knows it’s anything but simple. You’re on a dolly or Steadicam, hitting marks within inches, adjusting for actors who change their blocking mid-take, keeping focus with the 1st AC, and doing all of it while the director is calling adjustments in your ear. It’s a physical and mental endurance test that runs eight, ten, twelve hours a day.
The DP’s job, on the other hand, is more about vision and management. You set the look. You build the world with light. You’re thinking about continuity across an entire episode or season. You’re balancing creative ambition with the production schedule, because on network TV, there’s always a clock ticking. A great DP makes it look like you had all the time in the world when you actually had about forty minutes to light a four-page scene.
So why does this matter? If you’re trying to break into the industry, understanding this distinction will save you from embarrassing yourself in meetings and on set. If you want to be a camera operator, know that it’s a craft role that demands precision, stamina, and the ability to disappear into the shot. If you want to be a DP, know that it’s a leadership position that requires you to think about the entire visual story, not just what’s in front of the lens right now.
And if you’re already working in the business and somebody at a party asks what you do, just say you work in camera. It’s easier than explaining all of this over a drink.