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Photography and EthicsAn exploration of some issues relating to photography, ethics and my own practice.page three Six Philosophies Warning: the Kevin Carter image linked to from this page is distressing to look at. In his book Photojournalism, an Ethical Approach, (Online version, 1999) Paul Lester describes the way six major philosophical standpoints have a bearing on the ethics of photography (specifically, in the context of his book, photojournalism). I have found this such a useful model when trying to site my own ethical standpoint that I think it is worth exploring it here. The Six Major Philosophies as outlined by Lester are:
The Categorical Imperative is the brainchild of Immanuel Kant who lived in 18th century Prussia.
Kant argued that any action must be based on moral imperatives which are unquestionable and can have no exceptions - what we might term 'zero-tolerance' in today's parlance. This theory is allied to deontology, the belief that any decision must be based upon duty and the rights of others. In photographic terms, this might mean that a photographer believes it is necessary to report the news however distasteful, distressing or politically damaging it might be. Another photographer, however, might hold the opposite opinion: that preserving the right to privacy in a time of grief (for example, following a natural disaster or terrorist attack) is a categorical imperative, and therefore no photographs should be taken. What is not clear in this example of two photographers is which categorical imperative is the categorical one. Kant believed that it was not up to any one individual to invent his or her own imperatives, that instead categorical imperatives just were. In practice, each photographer uses a personal set of core values (or personal categorical imperatives, if you like) in order to make decisions about whether or not to shoot. George Alagiah used to be the Africa correspondent for the BBC. He has covered war and famine in many contexts and has huge experience of the effect that journalism can have on the viewing public if not the world's movers and shakers. In his book Compassion, Morality and the Media (2001) Keith Tester says of the journalist: "Alagiah believes that his job has a certain moral significance. He establishes that significance on the need to defend human rights in a world which disregards them all too easily... For Alagiah, the defence of human rights is is a principle. It's an absolute." (p9). Lester goes on to explain Alagiah's concern that, whilst he wants those who see his reports to be stirred into action, what viewers actually do is merely sympathise, and then move on when the next tragedy comes along. So whilst the journalist (or photographer) may feel there is a categorical duty to report what s/he sees, that is as far as the power stretches - it is not possible to force anyone to do anything about it - but at least the photographer's personal duty has been performed. How does the Categorical Imperative affect my own photographic practice? Firstly, I don't think that there are any photographs which should not be taken. That is different from saying that there are no events which should not be allowed to occur - a whole different debate - but rather it is saying that, having occurred, then any event can and probably should be photographed, as a means of recording history. So for example, nobody should have flown a plane into the Twin Towers, but making a pictorial record of it (including the death, the trauma and the physical destruction) was a morally sound thing to do. Had I been there, I would like to think I would have taken photographs as best I could under the circumstances. To give a more concrete example from my own experience, I once took photographs of a neighbour beating his dog with a huge piece of wood. I was the only person seeing this happen, and I felt that, whatever danger it put me in (and there were unpleasant consequences), I had to take the images in order to record what I saw as a cruel act. For me, there was no question of not taking the photographs, I simply did what I had to do. Where the categorical imperative to record events becomes difficult is when it borders on less altruistic motives such as voyeurism, thrill-seeking and trophy-hunting. This then becomes an act of Hedonism rather than duty. Hedonism as a philosophical model has little to do with its contemporary definition. The original meaning of hedonism as defined by Aristippus some two and a half thousand years ago - maximising the pleasure of the mind - has been lost in the mists of materialism and commerce.
In the photographic context a hedonistic approach might mean taking photographs purely for voyeurism or sensationalism, or with the specific aim of making the front page, gaining a reputation for the 'scoop'. Hedonistic photography is most commonly found amongst the paparazzi - photographers who, from the 1950s onwards, have made a living from stalking the rich and famous in the hope of an exclusive. I have to own up to a certain hedonistic streak in my own photographic practice. Part of this is due to the competition culture of photographic societies, where pictures are offered up for judgement in the hope of doing well in competitions. But this is harmless fun. More worrying is any tendency I might have to take photographs of people or events simply because they are strange or peculiar. (Was Diane Arbus a hedonist, then?) Here, for example, is a photograph of an itinerant living in Rome. I took it not because I was on some mission to highlight the plight of beggars in tourist cities, but because he made a photogenic subject. It is true that I had in my mind a series of photographs which drew comparisons between tourists in the city and the local people, and furthermore it is true that I wanted to illustrate all levels of Roman society in this collection, but at the end of the day I took a photo of the beggar because he made a good shot. This was, arguably, exploitative and voyeuristic. Utilitarianism, as defined by the English philosopher, Jeremy Bentham, attempts to do what is best for the greater good, possibly at the expense of individuals or smaller groups' rights and expectations.
In the darkness of secrecy, sinister and evil in every shape shall have full swing. Only in proportion as publicity has place can any of the checks applicable to judicial injustice operate. Where there is no publicity, there is no justice. Publicity is the very soul of justice. It is the keenest spur to exertion and the surest of all guards against improbity. It keeps the judge himself while trying under trial. Jeremy Bentham In this model, a photographer will feel justified in photographing a politician leaving a nightclub in a drunken stupour because the public 'needs to know' how its elected representatives conduct themselves in leisure time. This is justified as being 'in the public interest', a wonderfully vague and flexible phrase which, despite detailed definition in the Press Complaints Commission Code of Conduct, is still open to interpretation (some might even call it abuse) in a variety of ways. The public interest includes, but
is not confined to: Bob Franklin and Rob Pilling refer to this 'flexible' approach to what is in the public interest in Taming the Tabloids - markets, moguls and media regulation (in: Kieran, M (Ed.) Media Ethics Routledge 2000). The whole debate (in this particular article) hinges on whether it is ethical to take photographs of someone conducting an aspect of his or her private life in order to make judgements about that individual's fitness for public office or celebrity status. The same principle applies whether the subject of the photograph is a well-known politician or the man next door - each of us has an expectation that we can conduct our private lives without having them offered up for public scrutiny. However, the utilitarian approach to photography dictates that no-one can expect to maintain a right to privacy when it serves a greater good for everyone else to know what is going on. So... the public 'need to know' that members of the Royal Family sunbathe topless, or that a political party leader smoked dope at University, or even that Mr. Smith at number 24 is seeing too much of his secretary, overrides the right of the individual to a private life. A more positive use of the Utilitarianism philosophy can be seen, for example, in the work of war photographers such as Don McCullin, whose images of war-torn countries have upset countless politicians but have brought home the message of how gory a real war is to many thousands of otherwise oblivious people. Powerful examples of putting photography to the greater good at the expense of individual suffering can be found in the work of Frank Fournier and Stanley Forman whose images of dying victims (in two very different contexts) brought about real changes. Whilst there is (arguably) an element of Hedonism in these photographers' works, there can be no doubt that the impact of such images can be significant. Perhaps the most powerful illustration of The Categorical Imperative, Hedonism and Utilitarianism all rolled into one must come from Kevin Carter, whose image of the dying Sudanese girl and the Vulture is one which, once seen, is never forgotten. Carter won a Pulitzer for this image, which put him on top of the world for a very short time. A few weeks later he committed suicide, unable to come to terms with the terrible things he'd witnessed. You can read his story here. For me, I am happily not in the situation where I have to decide between taking a photograph of a dying child or intervening to save her, but I do have to think about why I take the photographs a do. The Golden Rule - the ethics of reciprocity. Treat others as you would like to be treated (or, as as George Bernard Shaw implied in 1903, the Golden Rule can be oppressive. He said: "Do not do unto others as you would that they should do unto you. Their tastes may not be the same.") In this model, the photographer treats people as s/he would expect to be treated in return. The Golden Rule has a reference in all the world's religions and can be seen as the root of all core values. In an ideal world, if everyone applied the golden rule to the way they conducted their lives there would be no conflict, war or atrocity to photograph. The Golden Mean is all about compromise, finding the best solution for all parties. The photographer gets the shot, but might have to go about it in a more subtle (or devious) way than s/he would otherwise. An example might be that of the photographer at the scene of a terrorist attack: people are traumatised, injured and possibly dying. Taking photographs with a long lens from a discreet distance is less invasive (and therefore more sensitive to the fraught context) than going in close to shoot in the faces of the victims. The Veil of Ignorance, as propounded by the philosopher John Rawls in the 1970s, puts the individual in the position of someone who has no concept of who s/he is in relation to society's markers: gender, ethnicity, social standing, intelligence and so on.
In Rawls' original thesis, such individuals are then required to build up a social infrastructure from scratch, not knowing where they will be placed in the final outcome. Inevitably, no-one wants to be disadvantaged in this new society, so it is planned with due consideration to every individual's rights and expectations. To apply this to the photographic context, one needs to see the photographer as the dispenser of justice, someone who asks 'would I like to be in my subject's situation?' before pressing the shutter. Each person possesses an inviolability founded on justice that even the welfare of society as a whole cannot override. Therefore, in a just society the rights secured by justice are not subject to political bargaining or to the calculus of social interests. John Rawls, A Theory of Justice
References Kieran, M (Ed.) Media Ethics. Routledge, 2000 Lester, P. Photojournalism, an Ethical Approach, Online version. 1999. Rawls, J A Theory of Justice. The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1971. Tester, K. Compassion, Morality and the Media, OUP 2001. Press Complaints Commission Code of Conduct <<<page two |
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(C) Helen Williams 2005 |
Immanuel Kant
1724-1804
Aristippus c435-356
B.C.
Jeremy
Bentham 1748-1832
John Rawls,
1920-2002
