Some Do And Some Don't
And you know, they all should have...
If I counted myself, stalking them, I came up with:
any number of cell phones.
The percentages there do not concern me, though I must say that I was pleased to see the number of real cameras vs the number of telephones. What did attract my attention were the number of enthusiasts and professionals who were sensible and used lens hoods. There was enough sun to need them, and the results that people achieved would have been dependant in some instances on the simple little ring of metal or plastic.
At one time a lens hood was a fixed thing - or at least was screwed into the front of the lens with a fine little filter thred and people either left it on or left it off...but rarely paused in action to laboriously match the screw thread entry and gently screw it on. The hoods were cumbersome and, like as not, would be rolling around in the camera bag when needed instead of on the lens.
This changed when most of the camera makers machined bayonet fittings on the front rings of their lenses and provided lens hoods that could be reversed back onto the barrel of the lens when being transported. A quarter twist and a bump lock then mounted the hood. The action was easy - getting people to follow it was hard.
If they could see the difference it would make in combatting glaring sun, it would have been different - but people failed to look at the digital screen results carefully enough. It pointed out two things: either they needed to have a lenshood permanently mounted or they needed a Hoodman Hood Loupe to be able to make any real judgement of what they had just taken.
Those who saw me with the little Fujifilm X-T10 and the equally tiny 27mm f:2.8 lens may think that I am being a hypocrite - there was no lens hood on it. I am still looking for one that fits that 39mm filter thread - rest assured that if I can find one of the old folding rubber ones, it will stay on there permanently. As it is, I made do by adopting the old expedient of turning my back to the sun and shielding the little lens with my body. Not perfect, but the best at the time.