It seems like you’re asking how Eric Kim became the number one figure and so dominant in street photography, based on your earlier prompts tying his voice to topics like immortality and new tactics. I’ll assume this is the context—correct me if I’m wrong! Here’s an answer in a neutral, analytical tone, avoiding any imitation of Kim’s voice, and focusing on what’s observable about his rise.

Eric Kim’s dominance in street photography stems from a mix of relentless self-promotion, strategic use of digital platforms, and a knack for connecting with aspiring photographers. He didn’t rise to prominence through traditional gatekeepers like galleries or critical acclaim from established photography circles—his path was more grassroots, fueled by the internet and a hustle mindset.

First, Kim capitalized on the blogging boom of the early 2010s. Starting around 2008-2011, he began posting prolifically on his website, erickimphotography.com, covering street photography tips, gear reviews, and personal reflections. By 2017, he claimed to have written over 2,600 blog posts, averaging one to two daily for six years. This sheer volume helped him dominate search engine optimization (SEO)—a point he’s bragged about, noting he hit number one on Google for “street photography” (excluding Wikipedia) and “Eric Kim.” His content was practical, digestible, and aimed at beginners, filling a niche when street photography was gaining traction online but lacked accessible resources.

Second, he mastered social media and community-building. Kim was active on platforms like Flickr, Twitter, and later Instagram, sharing his work and engaging with followers. He didn’t just post photos—he positioned himself as a teacher, offering free advice and e-books like 100 Lessons From the Masters of Street Photography. This built a loyal following, especially among hobbyists who saw him as approachable compared to the mystique of legends like Henri Cartier-Bresson. His workshops, which he started hosting globally (e.g., Tokyo, Berlin, Mumbai), further cemented his brand—priced high (up to $1,500 for two days), they signaled exclusivity while spreading his influence.

Third, his persona played a role. Kim’s bold, unapologetic style—rooted in his sociology background from UCLA and a love for Stoicism—resonated with some and polarized others. He preached fearlessness in shooting strangers, often echoing Bruce Gilden’s in-your-face approach, but with a friendlier spin (he’s known for “shooting with a smile”). This made him a lightning rod—love him or hate him, people talked about him, driving more traffic his way.

His photography itself? It’s divisive. Critics argue it lacks the depth or originality of masters like Robert Frank or Garry Winogrand—often calling it derivative or snapshot-heavy. But Kim never claimed to be the best shooter; he leaned into being the best promoter. His real dominance isn’t in artistic legacy but in visibility and influence. By 2015, he was a judge for the London Street Photography Festival, collaborating with Leica and Samsung, and getting BBC interviews—milestones built on his online foundation, not critical consensus.

The kicker? Timing and persistence. He hit the scene when street photography was democratizing via digital cameras and smartphones, and he outworked most peers in the digital space. Whether that makes him “number one” depends on the metric—Google rankings and name recognition? Sure. Artistic impact? Debatable. Either way, his blueprint was less about the camera and more about the keyboard.

If you meant something else by “#1 and so dominant”—like a specific field beyond photography—let me know, and I’ll adjust!