Agency

Some further thought on my previous entry.

I’m not suggesting the creation of a journalist elite class; my thought is that ‘Journalist Citizens’ would be a hybrid between journalists as we understand them now and ombudsmen (think UN special observers). They would be (ideally) distinct from national or editorial demands that might overtly or inadvertently influence the story. This would probably necessitate an independent news agency in Iceland that would act as both a sending agency and repository for the information gathered (it’s just taking the IMMI concept a few steps further than proposed).

This is, of course, idealistic; a special passport is not necessarily going to gain access to a radical madrassa or protect a journalist from harm. However, I think the overall concept has merit both in the present and future. There is a need for neutral observers in our highly polarised and market driven society (and again, I’m speaking from an American perspective noting that there are yet excellent media here and elsewhere). But to look beyond the present, there will be a need for recognised neutral observation fifty or a hundred years in the future. The analogy that comes to mind are the seed banks built to house pure strains of the world’s plant stock. Yes, there is abundant access to these plants now; but the time may come where we need to reference an unaltered seed set aside. We need a ‘seed bank of journalism’ somewhere that is dedicated to the most neutral observation of the present so we can reference and contrast at some point in the future.

Also, I’m not sure this isn’t happening now; obviously responsible journalists and publications rigourously research and then archive their stories; opening another news agency in remote Iceland won’t suddenly plant a beacon of truth superseding previous attempts at journalistic excellence. What it might do is establish a new set of independent benchmarks beyond editorial boundaries set by national and corporate constraints. I don’t want to get overtly cynical about these constraints because there are excellent journalists who work freely under them; however they are there and recognised both within and without. I think the only way to make a distinct separation is to step completely outside the structures into a new and independent agency.

Still mulling on this; thanks to the people who have emailed with comments.

Journalist Citizens

Since my return from India I’ve given much thought to the role photographers and journalists play in world events—or, perhaps that’s not the scale I’m considering—what is our role and responsibility to the individuals we document? This is not a novel question; it’s standard in the curriculum of J-schools everywhere and is (or should be) a primary consideration for any journalist of integrity. However, I’m trying to codify it for myself and make clear what I’m attempting when working with vulnerable people.
I’ve had a profitable discussion with David Wells over the past weeks; David is a former teacher of mine and experienced photojournalist. I suggested we might compose a code of conduct—a sort of Hippocratic Oath for photographers (again, not an original idea but one that might be revisited as the nature of journalism changes). I think it important that, as we travel into communities where we have free reign to work (often without thorough question of our motives), we clearly state our purpose and intent. We may not always fulfil that ideal but neither can a physician always save his or her patient. Journalism and medicine involve a careful balance of skill and serendipity; both carry the opportunity for healing as well as harm.

I celebrate the opportunities we have now for citizen journalism; the tools at hand take us far beyond traditional ‘gatekeeper controlled’ news. When someone with a pocket digital camera and a laptop can bring out hidden truths of a repressive government we’ve crossed a significant threshold. However, I wonder if we should not retain something of the old model—whether we are diffusing too much the role that a person defined as a journalist has to play in society. Everyone should be involved in the exchange of information and engage in the progress of their community, government, and so on; we have the ability to speak directly in a public arena without (generally) sanction or review by our peers. I just hope that, in the mêlée, the voices of Journalist Citizens are not forgotten. There is still room and need for people who are set apart for the specific task of digging deep and bringing out a story held to vigourous scrutiny. We seem to be loosing the ability to discern between citizens who express what they experience and journalists who write about the experiences of others; I speak from an American perspective watching and reading our news here. We readily accept the ‘journalism’ of a random weblogger (again, not to denigrate the medium; there are wonderful and thorough writers on the web) and simultaneously receive the rants of television anchors who speak without the backing of research or fact checking. Whether the medium is new and fluid or ‘old and respected’, truth suffers on both accounts. (Once again, this is an ongoing discussion all over the web and among journalists.)

To my point; I wonder if there is a place for a group of people set apart as far as possible from editorial coercion and political influence as possible. One of the issues photographers and journalists have in the field is their county of citizenship. There is always a political element if one is ‘an American photographer’ or an ‘Israeli journalist’; what if a neutral state offered a special conditional citizenship to journalists (in that, instead of swearing only allegiance to that state, the journalists would swear to uphold a strongly reasoned commitment to truth and transparency)?

Susan Garde Pettie (who will, I believe, be First Minister of Scotland one day) forwarded me a link concerning the Icelandic Modern Media Initiative. IMMI is an attempt to build a haven for journalism by writing best practices for free speech into Icelandic law. Iceland would become a physical repository for free speech via the internet to put information beyond the reach of repressive governments and corrupt corporations (who might otherwise shut down the servers of bloggers and newspapers in their own countries).

Birgitta Jónsdóttir is the Icelandic MP behind this initiative; I e-mailed her yesterday and suggested that Iceland develop a journalism degree program that incorporates the best practices of investigative integrity. After completing the program, the graduates would apply for citizenship (in the same spirit that the British and other countries offer a two year work visa to graduates; it draws students into the country and builds the overall skill pool). The whole process would be open and the ‘Icelandic Journalist’ passport would become a recognised mark worldwide. (It would need to be an actual citizenship as well; I don’t know if people would necessarily renounce citizenship of their home countries; but it would need to be legitimately recognised as full citizenship so people could be linked to the international conventions on citizen protection akin to what they are attempting with the press haven.) Birgitta responded this morning with some positive remarks, so we shall see where that goes. (By the way, Icelandic MP’s e-mail contacts are published on the web and they use their first names in the addresses; access, transparency, and a bit of humanity.)

Addendum: there are, no doubt, conventions that limit the scope of what states can confer upon citizens—but what if the Journalist Citizen had the same level of recognition as an official or diplomatic passport holder? The bearer could apply for ‘journalistic immunity’ in the same sense that diplomats may have immunity to prosecution.

More café brilliance

Overheard in the café today:
Woman on mobile phone, ‘I can’t find the damn phone number for my church’s prayer list.’

Barista, ‘I hope we didn’t give that guy too much coffee; I mean, did you see him? He was shaking all over.’

Thick-necked dude in group of wanna-be hipster guys (who, trust me, these guys sort of had the clothes down but failed miserably in every other respect), ‘I know she is just a whore, but I’m trying to be nice to her so she’ll at least sleep with me.’ This was a group of six guys; I wonder why they couldn’t get any women to hand out with them? Hmm.

Sigh.

Forced connexions

In my last post, Emily made a comment that she sometimes ‘feels guilty’ when she turns the page away from the image of a person in need.
I don’t know that I’m necessarily implying that there should be guilt involved; I think it’s something different that I’m not yet prepared to categorise. There is something larger involved in the connexion between the person photographed and the person who chooses to view the image.

Of course, we are saturated with images; like the people who are involved in a disaster who have no choice, we sometimes have no choice to view or not view an image of it. The disaster is brought into our living room or on our desktop.

This is why I have an issue with the people who send ‘pictures of children with flies in their eyes’ to my grandmother asking for funding for one cause or the other. Yes, the need may be legitimate; but they have not given my grandmother a choice to become involved or not. They have forced her into the situation and I wonder if this is not also a kind of secondary violation.

People should be aware; people should seek out a knowledge of world situations; I am truly frustrated with the censored images of war we see here in the States. However, I wonder if we need more training for people to discern how and when to engage in these issues to make our response more effective. Otherwise we risk desensitising ourselves to the reality of it. We risk the double violation of taking someone’s photo and exposing her to the eye of another person who cannot or will not respond in a way that helps either her or the viewer; there is the risk of violating one and traumatising the other.

Implications of the image

I’ve been asked to go to Haiti in July to document the work of a trauma therapy team (more on that very soon). Since returning from India, I’ve had some serious thought considering the nature of what I do in the field. I can, because of the power dynamics involved, go in and make images of vulnerable peoples without many hindrances. I am a white American with the power to enter into their world and exit freely; there are usually no questions asked or the permission for me to work is implicit (either from the unspoken understanding that ‘I’m here to help’ or some manner of unintentional intimidation on my part or the people I represent when working). I want to begin sorting through this before going out on assignment again.

This was at a rural village in India during a health clinic. Who are these children and how do their lives connect with yours? What gives me the right to force that connexion?

This was at a rural village in India during a health clinic. Who are these children and how do their lives connect with yours? What gives me the right to force that connexion?

In Haiti we will work with children who have lost both parents in the earthquake. They are physically and psychologically traumatised from the disaster; many live now on one meal of beans and rice a day (if that) and they have little emotional nourishment either. These are children who, at this time, have no say in the course of their lives; they are completely dependent on orphanages and aid agencies such as the one I will work with. I wish to consider how I obtain ‘permission’ to document the condition they are in. By this, I don’t mean ‘legal permission’; that is obtained easily enough from those acting in loco parentis. I want to consider how to enter into a situation where I am essentially the only one with apparent power and give people the ability to play a role in how they are portrayed.

I work mainly with NGOs who attempt, ostensibly, to ‘make the world a better place.’ My thought when I make an image of a person ‘over there’ who is vulnerable and ‘in need of our help’ is that this image will help the larger group of people represented by it. However, this person in the image is not a larger group—this is a person who I have chosen to capture in an image at a particular moment at a particular time; they have a specific life that brought us together at a particular 1/125th of a second. After that moment is over, what gives me the right to step away from them forever and present them as representative of a group? The argument that the larger whole is served may be in some way valid; but what of that specific person presented in the image? If they are not helped in some way, is there a violence done to them? (Consider this in the inverse; when you see the image of an angry young Arab man what is the first impulse in your mind? What is the implication of the stone throwing man in the picture? That these people as a whole are angry and violent? Does he truly represent the group or is he an isolated individual? What violence to truth is accomplished both by the picture of the child with files in his eyes and the man with a Molotov Cocktail?)

Also, have we truly asked if ‘they’ want our help? It is assumed that the distressed people over there want and need our assistance; however, I think we must take care of the Great White Saviour Syndrome. It can be safely assumed that many of the people we encounter in these situations do wish our presence and welcome assistance; however, the assumption does not give us licence to do further harm to already vulnerable people by exploiting them for our own good purposes. It’s a fine line to ride; but I think it’s imperative to consider it deeply. There are more parties involved than just the photographer and the subject as well; we must consider to what end these images are used. The viewer must react in some way...either by taking some action to remedy the situation or not. The act of viewing an image places moral responsibility on the viewer to respond; they are, in some sense, ‘present’ in the situation brought to them by the image (this is the same argument used when prosecuting pedophiles who are found with child pornography; they have participated in the abuse even if they were not physically present when the image was made).

​Health workers in India; what are their stories and does a four word caption in any way do justice to the lives they lead and the work they do for rural poor people?

​Health workers in India; what are their stories and does a four word caption in any way do justice to the lives they lead and the work they do for rural poor people?

There is a chain of communication I want to consider; from the person photographed, the photographic process itself (and the alterations it inevitably makes to the ‘real’), myself as a photographer, and the viewer. It’s not just going in and snapping some photos; I’m starting to work at the margins of the world where moral questions reach their frayed ends.