Why a swapped background looks fake
Nobody looks at a photograph and thinks the background was replaced. They think something is off and cannot say what. It is almost always one of four things, and three of them have a control on the page in front of you.
One: a fringe of the room that used to be there
This is the giveaway, and it is the one people notice first without naming it. Along the whole outline of the subject there is a band one to three pixels wide where a single pixel contains both the person and the wall behind them — not because anything was done badly, but because a pixel is an area and the boundary between a shoulder and a wall does not fall neatly between two of them. A camera records the average.
Lay that band on a new ground untouched and it brings the old ground’s colour with it. Against white it reads as a dirty outline; against a colour it reads as a coloured rim. If the original room was strongly coloured — a green sofa, a red wall, grass — it is unmistakable, and it is why a cheap background swap of somebody standing in a garden has a faint green edge on every strand of hair.
The fix is subtraction, not blurring. For each pixel in the band, the page measures what is there, works out how much of it the old wall contributed, subtracts that, and keeps the remainder as the subject’s own colour. The control is called unmixing the old ground and it is on by default. Blurring the edge instead — which is what a feather control does — hides the fringe by spreading it, and on close inspection a spread fringe looks worse than a sharp one.
Two: a subject standing on nothing
A person photographed in a room is connected to it. Light bounces up off the floor, there is a darker band where their feet or the base of the object meets the ground, and the eye reads that connection long before it reads anything else. Cut the room away and put a flat colour behind them and the connection goes with it: the subject floats, very slightly, and the photograph acquires the quality of a sticker.
The contact shadow control puts the connection back. It reads the lowest eight per cent of the rows the subject occupies, finds how wide the subject is across that band, and darkens an ellipse of the new ground under it. Depth controls how dark; spread controls how far it reaches.
Why it is off until you turn it on
Because a shadow in the wrong place is far more obviously wrong than no shadow at all. A head-and-shoulders portrait cropped at the chest is not standing on anything inside the frame, and a shadow under the chest is a mistake that every viewer will catch. Turn it on when the subject’s base is visible — a full-length figure, a product on a surface, a pet on a floor — and leave it off otherwise.