These two topics may at first seem unrelated so bare with me. The answers to both questions are rooted in how our brains work. They are, in some respects, intuitive. They are also fundamental to how we approach campaigning for social change, and in particular how we use visual media.
Lets start with what may be a familiar economics experiment called ‘The Ultimatum Game.’ For those unfamiliar with the game it goes like this; two people are paired and one is given $10. This person (the proposer) gets to decide how the money is split between the two of them. The second person (the responder) gets to accept or reject the offer. If the offer is accepted each gets to keep their respective amounts. If rejected no one gets anything.
What tends to happen is that the proposer, rather than offer a small amount (say $1) and pocket the rest, usually offers close to 50%. What they understand is that if they offer a low amount the responder, rather than cut their losses and take what ever is offered (after all, anything better than $0 is a win for them), they punish the proposer by rejecting ‘unfair’ amounts. In some ways this appears illogical – the responder should take what ever is on offer. But that inner sense of what is ‘right’ is vital to social interactions. The game taps into a whole load of sympathetic human instincts based on us being a social animal. It is also worth noting at this point that this experiment gets the same results where ever it is conducted, but it Germany, Japan or Indonesia.
A variation on ‘The Ultimatum Game’ is ‘The Dictator Game.’ Here the set up is the same except the proposer dictates how much the responder will get. Yet even here the proposer ‘dictator’ tends to give away around 30% of the $10. Even when they don’t need to be generous they are. That is unless the game is changed slightly. In the first two versions of the game both proposer and responder have sat opposite each other. The third variation is set up like ‘The Dictator Game’ but with the proposer ‘dictator’ in a separate room to the responder. In this set up the dictator offers far smaller amounts to the responder. It is all in the distance. The lack of interaction with the person you are screwing, the isolation from those who suffer from your greed, makes us insensitive (which may do some way to explaning the move of the Burmese captial to Naypyidaw).
Here is another experiment. People in this experiment are asked a simple question – ‘How much would you be willing to donate to a charitable cause?’ It was found that when shown a photo of a malnourished Malawian child the average donation was $2.50. However, when given a wealth of statistics on the scale of malnutrition in Malawi, its impact on millions of children and the mortality rate (rather than the photo), people gave 50% less. One photo and an individual tragic story generated double the amount of money compared to the information presenting the true scope of the problem. The stats just didn’t tap into the innate sympathetic parts of our brain.
So, what does all this have to do with visual media and social activism? Well, it goes back to a point I and many others have made regarding bridging the empathetic gap. Usually, this is raised in reference to mobilising people to take action e.g. getting the public to write to MPs etc. But what ‘The Dictator Game’ shows us is that our primary target should be those in power. The trouble is we are showing them the wrong things. We tend to target them with detailed, legalistic, scientific research reports, briefings or submissions. We stand up in UN forums or government lobbying meetings and present ‘serious’ information. We enter into a particular form of information exchange that often deliberately excludes individual stories and predominantly uses text rather than images. But what this does is to actually allow those in power to avoid having to deal emotionally with the issues. They get the cold stats and can respond in a cold way. Rather than ‘speaking truth to power’ we should be ‘showing individual truths to power.’ What needs reinforcing is their empathetic link to those they serve, their constituents. Stats are for technocrats to implement, individual visual stories win hearts (or more accurately, fire the sympathetic regions of our brains). That is not to say good solid research is not important (you need to show context and breadeth of impact), but by relying solely on this type of communication we are failing to understand how the mind works. For example, picture this. An NGO rep stands up at the UN Human Rights Council and reads out a statement about how hundreds, if not thousands, were killed due to the Sri Lankan army shelling hospitals in its offensive against the LTTE in 2009. Now imagine instead of them reading out the statement they show you footage of this, not just the carnage but interviews with the families who survived, who lost their wives, husbands and children. The impact, emotions and outrage in that room would, I believe, be entirely different. That is why the C4 documentary ‘Sri Lanka’s Killing Fields‘ caused such a storm and the governemnt made such efforts to rebut and discredit the footage.
Another lesson is what most NGOs, especially development organisations, knew all along. The ‘poster child’, no matter what political or ideological problems we may have with it, works. That is not to excuse the lazy trotting out of the emaciated mother and child every time a famine is declared. But it does demonstrate that people respond to human stories, at least in the immediate sense in that they give money. What we need to work on is getting less desperate stories to people about the lives of those less fortunate before things reach these extremes. We need stories that people can empathise with, not based on tragedy but identity. These need to shun stereotypes, but to do that NGOs need to take risks, be innovative and not be afraid to show the nuisances of life in the places they work e.g. its not all tragedy, that in fact people have a good time and are getting on with their lives like we all try to do. Stories that put us across the table to those in need in order that we give a fair response rather than isolate us further.
I was at the British Embassy in Kathmandu a couple of weeks back to attend a gathering on enforced disappearances. The event marked the 6th anniversary of the killing a 15-year-old girl, Maina Sunuwar, in 2004 by the Nepal Army. The main draw was the première of a short film entitled, ‘Awaiting Justice‘ (presented as ‘Nyay Kahile?’ in Nepali, which literally translates as ‘Justice When?’). The film documents a visit in December 2009 by nine top diplomats to Bardiya District where a high number of people were ‘disappeared’ during Nepal’s decade long conflict (1996-2006).
I was looking forward to seeing the film, but the title had already begun to raise questions in my mind. I tend not to be a pedant when it comes to language, but I have seen such passive terminology far too often when referring to rights holders in Nepal. ‘Waiting’ is a term that is unfortunately reflected in the way many of the individuals are represented, not least by the human rights movement.
Since the end of the conflict there has been a concerted push by human rights organisations, both national and international, as well as some embassies and the UN (particularly OHCHR – Nepal), for investigations and prosecutions into past abuses. This has mainly focussed on case documentation and political lobbying via legal argumentation. Despite this there are those of the opinion that survivors and the families of those ‘disappeared’ or unlawfully killed have been, up until recently, marginal voices in this campaign, with their priorities given less prominence in the face of the more powerful international ‘human rights project‘. Some would even say that the families agenda has been deliberately distorted to fit that of the international community. A cynical analysis would be that this agenda centres on furthering international human rights law through work in politically weak and conflict damaged countries, with an emphasis on ‘putting people in prison‘ rather than delivering to the wishes of those who suffered most (which tends to centre on material and emotional relief). Not that justice isn’t a good thing, it just raises the question of who all this effort is actually for? If in reality things are far more complex than the cynics may have you believe, this is not to say there is not an element of truth here. There are certainly legitimate questions to be asked about the independence of some CBOs in Nepal, and whether undue influence is exerted on them to be ‘on message’ with the bigger agencies controlling the agenda and funding. What interests me most though is how this plays out strategically and representationally?
Few resources and time appear to have gone into growing the public profile of the CBOs and winning arguments amongst the public to mobilise support. The ‘legal-first’ strategy that is pushed so hard by the various human rights agencies is making slow progress exactly because it is not duel tracked with a wider communication strategy that seeks to garner support beyond a narrow constituency of human rights activists and lawyers. Documentation of cases and legal arguments saturate the landscape, with a war of words occupying what small amount of media space is given over to these issues. Almost forgotten are the lives of those who live on. When we do hear from them it is usually to recount, once again, the painful episode that took their loved ones away from them (‘the case’).
The embassy film thus takes a now predictable format – a parade of ‘cases’, narrowly defining the individuals in the context of the abuse rather than as complex and dynamic people. This is particularly evident in the main segment of the film where the diplomats are petitioned by a group of people who lost relatives or were themselves tortured. The decision to include so much of the meeting is questionable as it fails to engage after a short time. Not that the testimonies are boring or unmoving. What they are is contextually adrift in a barren meeting hall, where embassy staff sit silently as if holding court before their 4×4 convoy returns them to Kathmandu. There is no attempt to break down the empathic gap between the audience and people featured. More surprisingly, there is almost no explanation about why the diplomats made the trip to Bardiya, possibly underlining the exclusive nature of the product (i.e. it is for those who know rather than to info those who don’t). I am also unable to tell you what the film is for or how it will be used.
This is not a criticism of the international community in Nepal, they do good work – and this initiative may turn out to be well placed. The criticism is this – firstly, if you are to spend time and money on visual media then a lot more thought is needed than appears to have gone into this production, that even at 10mins failed to engage me or generate empathy due to its narrow passive ‘victimisation’ of those it represents. The second criticism, and the more important as it goes beyond one short film, is why such representations persist (when there are obvious alternatives) and whether they expose a dynamic between the rights holders and those agencies who take a ‘for the community’ rather than a ‘with the community‘ strategy?
It is strange that despite the involvement of the self organised community based organisation – Conflict Victims Committee – there is no representation in the film of the substantial work they have done in campaigning for justice. In fact I have not come across one substantial piece of visual media that looks at these CBOs in Nepal (though that doesn’t mean such work isn’t out there).
Of course, it is unrealistic to expect embassies to be masters of visual communications, and the fact that they even thought about filming their initiative (which was mainly symbolic – the abuses are already well documented) is positive. But such agents need to realise that winning the legal arguments is only half the battle. Failure to generate a ground swell of public solidarity with those who fight for justice and reparations will at the very least hamper progress, at worst make you irrelevant.
A more thoughtful approach is taken in the 2009 International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) film, unfortunately with an equally passive sounding title, ‘The Wait Continues‘. The film narrows its focus on one incident where 17 workers from Jogimara were reported killed whilst working at an airport construction site in Kalikot.
The film is a more considered affair than ‘Awaiting Justice’, where the audience is firmly placed in the context of the 15 families who lost their sons. They are interviewed in their village and homes. We see them going about their daily lives. Yet it is what the family members recount that is most notable. Rather than presenting details of ‘the case’ (we learn only the basic facts of what happened) they tell us about their hopes and fears, their doubts and ways of coping. A particular poignant moment is when one man relates how his neighbour has moved away to escape the memories of his son. But asks, ‘What will he do with his son’s plate, and the glass he drunk from?’ immediately summoning a human universal of the memories evoked in us by objects used by the ones we love.
Towards the end of the film ICRC reps walk into the village. This is probably the most awkward moment throughout and draws attention to the fact the focus is on a community that has found it difficult to represent itself effectively (though it does note that others have). It is an all too familiar image – the human rights /UN worker who comes to the village to ‘extract’ research information, maybe never to return, leaving the interviewees disheartened and suspicious of their intentions. This cannot be a direct criticism of the film itself, which is well made, or ICRC for that matter, but does highlight the lack of visual media that presents the pro-active, self organisation of many families across the country to fight (rather than ‘wait’) for reparations, truth and justice. The ICRC documentary is complimented by a set of decent stills by K.Kayastha that begin to scratch a surface that could do with a bit more scratching.
Raj Kumari Gurung lost both her brothers-in-law. Their mother, Moti Maya Gurung is convinced one day they will return. Copyright ICRC / K.Kayastha
The ‘legal-first’ singular track has produced a stack of reports. Much could have been done to wed these with a visual advocacy strategy – much in the way OSI has done in recent times. A couple of reports illustrate a lost opportunities. The ‘waiting‘ continues in two reports by the Nepalese human rights organisation Advocacy Forum (AF) and US based NGO, Human Rights Watch (HRW). AF is an excellent organisation, and I have worked with them in the past. However, a strategic shift in the representation of survivors and rights holders would be a positive step.
Two reports – ‘Waiting for Justice‘ and ‘Still Waiting for Justice‘ – present excellent documentation on over 60 cases of ‘unpunished crimes from Nepal’s Armed Conflict‘. In many instances AF has fought hard for these cases to be investigated by the police, despite obstruction. However, once more we enter the territory of passive victims, illustrated in the first report by the widely used (and rather tired in my opinion) photographic technique of representing ‘disappearances’ by having family members hold up photos of those that are missing (in the second report photos are abandoned except for the cover, which incidentally is one of mine – where at least we see the family members out on the streets protesting).
What surprises more is that HRW did not do more to improve the visual representation. Over the last couple of years to their credit they have done much to adopt more visual tools in their work, particularly on their website.
Other examples are the reports by OHCHR-Nepal on abuses in the Maharajgung army barracks and in Bardiya district. The Maharajgung report does not feature any photos at all. A glossy summary version of the Bardiya report (the original version having almost sunk without trace on it launch) contains eight un-captioned colour photos – with none of the photos being self explanatory enough to stand alone. This disappoints all the more because UN agencies, including OHCHR themselves with their work on prison conditions in Nepal, have grasped the value of visual media in providing context and building understanding in the wider population. I covered this here.
It is obvious from such laudable initiatives, such as A People’s War trilogy, that with some effort and thought a more diverse and nuanced representation can be produced. The thing the project did best was invest in a time scale that allowed the people pictured to become rounded individuals to the viewer. Through the follow-up book, and last in the trilogy, ‘People After War‘, we are able to travel along a narrative that leads the reader away from a black and white reading of events and people. The exhibition that travelled across the country drew huge crowds (allegedly 350,000), with some of their thoughts recorded in the second book in the trilogy, ‘Never Again‘. Six thousand copies of ‘A People War‘ were distributed to schools and libraries for free. So, why did one publisher decide it was necessary to have such a public debate on these issues, but not one human rights agency has come close to producing an initiative that stimulates such a public interaction?
Obviously, an argument can be made that all these representations differ due to the agents responsible for them, their objectives , expertise and the time available to produce them. This is a fair point – as it is fair to say that factually people are ‘waiting’ due to the state being the agent to deliver some of the things they want. But what ever your appraisal of these different approaches it is hard to deny that what is lacking is a substantial participatory communication approach that puts the power of representation in the hands of the families and survivors (at the very least this would enhance historic documentation). This may open up more space to discuss some of the issues of social exclusion that lead to the violations in the first place and remain un-resolved. A coherent communication strategy that looks to engage with a wider public audience in Nepal in order to increase pressure on political actors wouldn’t go a miss either.
These would not only go some way to addressing criticism that families lack control over how they are represented, and how their priorities are not accurately portrayed by the mainstream human rights community. It could also begin to break down societal barriers that currently block the establishment of a wider debate and recognition of the injustice that is being perpetuated. Whether participatory or not, a venture that focussed more on ‘campaigning‘ rather than ‘waiting‘ would be a good start.
Examples from other countries should inform those working in this sector in Nepal of what is possible. From a professional point of view the work of Paula Allen with the women of Calama in Chile stands out as a committed and long term approach. Marcelo Brodsky’s work ‘Buena Memoria‘ from Argentina provides an inclusive and personal documentation and memorial to those who were ‘disappeared’ from his school (watch the video for the event held to remember those who were killed). Omar D’s work on ‘disappearances’ in Algeria, ‘Devoir de memoire/A Biography of Disappearance, Algeria 1992-, commissioned and edited by Autograph ABP, is also worth noting. As is the discussed at an LSE conference on ‘disappearances’ in Algeria in 2008, raising the question;
‘How we can disseminate the truth about events that are officially denied or obfuscated by the legal system, how to lobby for the application of UN resolutions on forced disappearances and whether human rights organisations can overcome post-colonial and economic interests. Can imagery be more potent than text in bringing human rights issues into public knowledge? Can we talk of a politics of aesthetics in the context of subjects who have been stripped of their civil existence? How can the invisible be made visible?
To watch a video introduction to the LSE event click here.
Displaying the portraits of the disappeared in October Square in Minsk. From 'Existence Denied' by ICAED.
Also worth checking out is the ‘Existence Denied‘ book produced by the International Coalition of Enforced Disappearances (ICAED) that pulls together a series of stills from around the world that illustrate the emotional impact of those whose loved ones have been disappeared, as well as the activism they themselves have initiated to find out what happened and bring perpetrators to book.
'Angels on the march against disappearances in El Salvador. From 'Existence Denied' by ICAED.
Agencies can also explore the value of participatory photography as a tool for communication within and across communities, for understanding and reconciliation, but also for historical documentation. Not that such methodology is without its faults, but as I discussed in this post it lends itself to just this situation. A good example is the TAFOS (social photographic workshops) project in Peru which took place in the context of political violence, extreme poverty and lack of political representation – a situation similar to Nepal’s.
Much of the value of the project is encapsulated in this quote, which I will leave you with;
… “TAFOS was a project of visual inclusion, with pictures that, in its character of a documentary mirror, made visible the invisible and took risks for a country still alive. Their pictures show us a country struggling for respect and recognition of basic rights for its people; a country in the process of consolidation and transformation that, however, still enjoys life; summing up, a country with a clear bet for life and change”.
Huarcaya, Roberto. Hacer visible lo invisible. In: País de Luz. Talleres de Fotografía Social, TAFOS. Perú: 1986-1998. Lima-Peru: Pastor y Müller, 2006. p. 44-47 (English Translation).
Below I am re-posting in full an article from a new website called ‘A Developing Story‘ Benjamin Chesterton (of duckrabbit fame) and John Bennett (master of all things Web). The article lays out the aims of the site and makes a call for contributions. On that note, I have agreed to be a contributing editor on human rights for the site, and look forward to meeting you there as well as here on The Rights Exposure Project in 2010.
***
A Developing Story, a new website, which duckrabbit has helped get up and running, has been born:
Hopefully the title reflects our desire to create an open space on the web in which stories and images that explore the richness and complexity of an unequal world can find a home.
We will also be campaigning for the unshackling of the intellectual copyright of ideas that can save lives (contrary to popular belief this does not mean pushing photographers to release their work under creative commons licenses, nor will the photographs published on A Developing Story be subject to creative commons unless the photographer makes this request)
duckrabbit will be showing A Developing Story off to 250 students next Friday at Amnesty International’s international student conference as part of a panel on journalism that we’re taking part in.
Some terrific writers have already agreed to sit on the editorial board, including David Campbell, whose writing on photography, representation and economics is increasingly influential and also Rob Godden who runs The Rights Exposure project.
A Developing Story is centred on the idea of bringing together a community, outside of purely academic circles, who want to have a strong voice on how stories about this unequal world are told. We want you to become a part of that.
If you have a blog and you like the site please consider adding a link to adevelopingstory.org . Even better, give us a nod as Matt from DVA photo has done here. Follow adevstory on twitter. Better still, some of you many want to contribute to the site.
Essentially we’re looking for:
1. people who can source materials for the front page.
2. writers for the blog (who have a specialism in the field of development).
3. a number of picture editors to run the big picture area of the site, where we will bring to the attention of NGO’s photographers from both sides of the unequal world.
4. professionals working in the field of development communications who can help us source and develop training materials.
Why adevelopingstory.org?
Recently duckrabbit ran a focus group with 12 students from Birmingham City University. They were asked to reflect on a video we have produced in collaboration with MSF. The video featured the voices and photographs of people from a hospital in the Congo. Afterwards one of the students, visibly moved commented:
I’ve never given to Oxfam because of the way they talk to me, but that’s different. It makes me want to do something, because you know it’s true, there’s no bullshit involved, it’s just the woman telling her story.
Oxfam does some really great communication work, but it does show how a simple story told well, in someone’s own words, straight from their own wounded heart, can have an impact. For duckrabbit it all comes back to telling it true, to putting the person’s story first, before any other consideration; giving them a platform to speak, not just to be spoken about. Then people will buy into what you do, because they will trust you.
That’s a first step, but we need to go much further.
Our human right is to have a voice which we can raise up to tell our own stories, not for others to come along and tell and sell our stories for their own profit. NGO’s communications and fund-raising departments should share the same values of empowering local communities through their work as the people working for these charities on the ground.
What might this shift in the way NGO’s work mean for photographers, particularly international ones? We believe more meaningful work, in which you don’t just take the pictures NGO’s want, but also work collaboratively with local photographers, over longer periods of time, building up work of greater depth. with lasting impact.
Isn’t that exactly what development should be about?
I saw this model working when I spent time with the acclaimed photojournalist Jack Piccone in Kenya last year. I don’t think Jack fired off a shot the whole time he was there, but the training that he provided has had a lasting impact with one of his students winning a POYi award and being nominated for an Amnesty International award. More importantly even though Jack and myself have long since moved on from Kenya, the work still endures. That’s a photographer (Jack) having a real impact, not just some egotistical bullshit about wanting to take photos to save the world!
Paul Close's photographic project 'The Snakebox Odyssey' asked a simple question, 'Is there one thing that could make your life better?' and in doing so was one of the most creative uses of photography I came across this year.
I know, I know, its a bit of a headline title but as this article rounds of one year dedicated to looking at the use of photography, video and all that other visual stuff used in social activism I thought it appropriate to end with a grand claim. But to be honest with you I can’t answer the question of ‘How NGOs should be using photos and video in social activism‘. Not that you needed telling that because, as regular readers will know this just takes us back to all that ‘does dieting work‘ absurdity. The other reason is, despite having looked at hundreds of examples of visuals put into the service of social activism, I feel that the answer will always be evolving. This is particularly the case at present with the explosion of possibilities offered by the digital revolution and Web 2.0. We are like frontiers men in new territory (minus the genocide of indigenous people that is, unless that is photographic film…hmmm probabaly wise to leave this metaphor alone).
Activists demonstrating in support of a photography exhibition "Into Exile: Tibet 1949 - 2009" at the Drik Gallery in Dhaka. Drik came under tremendous pressure to close down the photographic exhibition from both the Chinese Embassy and officers from the Bangladesh Police Special Branch. This was one of the most powerful reminders of both the power of images and governments desire to censor.
I started The Rights Exposure Project blog in February 2009 in an attempt to answer two questions. One of them is;
‘How can I use visual media better in my work as a human rights campaigner?’
Eight years working at Amnesty International in London is enough for me to say with some authority that both personally and as an organisation we are not using visual media as well as we could. I do not mean that we are not using enough photos and video (though sometimes we do not), or that they are not of an adequate quality (though sometimes they are not), but that we have failed to recognise the true power of these media as a tool to increase the impact of our work. We are effectively tying one arm behind our backs. Our one good arm (the most widely staffed and funded) remains the tried and tested research that Amnesty International is known for. Presented as written reports, the organisation must bang out around one hundred of these every year (a quick search on the Amnesty library turns up 119 written reports verses 13 audio-visual products in 2009), year after year, sending them off to governments, business leaders, academics, NGOs and the media. These are accompanied by numerous press releases and briefing papers. All good stuff, a veritable production line of evidence documenting human rights abuses across the globe delivered directly to those with the power to make the required changes, assuming there is the necessary political will.
Will we ever see Green Dam girl represent Amnesty International research?
Excellent post on the ‘After Photography‘ blog on the keys issues regarding shifts in communications on social issues. It focusses on the move away from linear witnessing towards pluralistic conversations. It comes at this via journalism but applies to the work of NGOs and activists as well. Some of my thoughts on the post are copied below.
‘Thanks for this excellent summary of the key points regarding shifts taking place in communications around social issues. I look forward to getting hold of a copy of your book to see how practically this could work. I agree that there is great potential for creating ‘conversations’ between ‘subject’, ‘reader’ and ‘journalist’, and that this could facilitate better understanding of solutions and appropriate roles for each in addressing issues. The ‘subject’ is increasingly becoming the producer of content, and a key challenge is how this content is used to maximise its impact within strategies for change? I can see the beginnings of this in social activism but it is at an embryonic stage (currently more a ‘meet & greet’ than a ‘virtuous chain of information and mobilisation’ at local, national and international levels). I come at this from a social activist perspective and can see how ‘voice’ (attained in part via new media) can empower individuals and communities impacted by rights violations, as well as better informing those wishing to be involved in a solution from a distance. The democratisation of communications will need to be supported by genuine participation in decision making and action – which is an organisational challenge. I think there needs to be a balance between ‘The Wisdom of Crowds’ (as put forward by James Surowieiki) and the potential for an overly democratised space to be usurped by interest groups (as put forward by Fareed Zakaria in ‘The Future of Freedom’). Democratisation does not necessarily lead to better representation, and requires the involvement of diverse, independent, informed and numerous voices. The level of peoples understanding and involvement is still going to vary, and although we need to aim at presenting the world more accurately we still need to provide information and opportunities for a variety of audiences to be involved – which may be purely providing funds at one end of the spectrum to dedicated in-depth activism at the other.’
Girl on Roof by Suchitra (used with permission from Kids with Cameras. Copyright Suchitra/KWC)
‘Proxy wars’, do diets work ? and the 2009 Ashes series
OK, I am going to be a bit flippant and suggest first-up that the debate about whether participatory photography (PP) represents the greatest thing since sliced bread or is an ineffective use of resources that perpetuates neo-colonial attitudes in development is;
1) a stupid debate on a par with ‘Does dieting work?’
2) a ‘proxy war’ about participatory approaches and visual representation in development, and as such, best tackled head on.
Now, there is a temptation to take that as a cue to stop writing right here, crack open a cold-one and get back to the serious task of watching England and Australia battle it out in the Ashes (for the uninitiated, this is THE most important cricket series in the world!). After all, there are serious questions to be discussed, such as should England play Harmisson at Headingley instead of Broad, and will Flintoff be fit (and if he isn’t then don’t we need Broad)? But unfortunately before we can get to such matters I feel an obligation to explain my flippancy. So, here goes.
Over the last decade there has been a marked increase in the use of PP in development, education and human rights work. Yet, in contrast to this surge in popularity, it has drawn significant criticism. This article will analyse why something seemingly straightforward has been hailed both as an antidote to the ‘picturing of poverty’ and condemned as ineffective, or even damaging. Through this analysis I will try to show that much of the criticism has been too generalised to be very useful, with ‘over claiming’ by PP practioners contributed towards this. I will suggest that the crux of the debate currently centres on the broader issue of representational power relations and ‘authentic’ viewpoint that require practical solutions based on a better understanding of subjects and audiences. I conclude by suggesting that it will only be through the use of mixed visual media practices, presenting a variety of diverse viewpoints, connected as a ‘conversation’ that we can not only create a more accurate representation of the issues, but also facilitate a more dynamic activism across communities.
Before going any further I would like to thank the following people for their insight and materials that made this article possible; DJ Clark (multi-media journalist), Shahidul Alam (Drik), Rebecca Burton (Kids With Cameras), Ross Kaufman (Director of ‘Born Into Brothels’), Sara Parker (Liverpool John Moores University), Tiffany Fairey (co-founder, PhotoVoice), Yasmine Eid-Sabbagh (photographer), Sara Sehnaoui and Ramzi Haidar (Zakhira).
The Right Questions to Ask?
Mar Elias refugee camp, Beirut - Copyright Khalifeh Muhamed Khalifeh / Zakira
It could be said that any analysis of participatory photography (PP) needs to look at two issues;
1) Does this tool offer an antidote to how people living in difficult circumstances (usually marginalised groups facing economic hardship or social discrimination) are generally represented through photojournalism and NGOs?
2) Can it really deliver on all the multiple claims made in its name?
Although the issues these questions raise are interesting, and I will touch on these, I give primacy to another question;
‘Did the PP project you ran do what it set out to do?’
And this can only be answered for each individual project by an evaluation that is conducted over time and looks to the original project strategy objectives. As Rebecca Burton at Kids With Cameras told me;
“As for advice to those running a similar project, I would recommend that they reflect upon the ultimate goal. If the goal is to bring the world of photography to children as an art form for creativity, then their approach may be very different than someone who wants to teach photography as a life skill. The approach would be determined by the desired outcome.”
The reason the first two questions are not especially helpful is that one cannot ‘grade’ PP by generalising about – it is too broad a methodology and as Rebecca says, each project outcome is different. That is not to say there are not general rules that can help avoid some of the mistakes commonly made by practioners, particularly in regards to ethics and impact, but let’s not enter the territory of ‘Are diets any good?’ The chocolate and beer diet was just CRAZY (well, at least after day 2), but that steamed fish and veggies one kinda worked (though I did keep thinking about beer and chocolate, go figure?).
Having said this, let’s not throw out both these questions whole sale. I will come back to the first one (‘antidote’) later as it will lead us to broader issues that I believe have turned much of the analysis of PP into a kind of ‘proxy war’ about power relations and ‘authenticity’ in ‘picturing poverty’. For the second I will use it to look at examples from experienced practioners that can help us put the benefits of PP in perspective, and so connect its real benefits within the frame of the first question.
'Self portrait' by Jesula (used with permission from Kids with Cameras. Copyright Jesula/KWC)
A bit of background
I first learnt about PP when I met Tiffany Fairey (co-founder of the UK based NGO, PhotoVoice) at a photography fair in London some years ago. The fact I had not heard of PP until then is in part an indication of how far behind the work of the human rights movement was in regards to ‘participation’ by right claimants compared to the development sector. In Amnesty International, just about to launch its ‘Demand Dignity’ global campaign (focussing on ‘poverty‘, with emphasis on ‘slums’ and ‘health’) there was no talk of ‘agency’ or a push for participation until a couple of years ago. It is only now organizing its first PP project.
There has been much written about the history of PP so I will not waste space repeating it here. Briefly, participatory photography (PP) as a methodology is far from new, and stems from academic participatory methods such as ‘Participatory Rural Appraisal’ used by Robert Chambers. It was video rather than photography that kicked off participatory methods using visual media, such as Su Braden’s work in Viet Nam. The use of photography for development research can be traced back to work by Caroline C. Wang and Mary Anne Burris from the University of Michigan who worked in Yunnan province in China. Other pioneering practioners include Wendy Ewald who in 1975 founded the Mountain Photography Workshop with children in Appalachia, Kentucky. Edwald is now director of the Literacy Through Photography programme at Duke University, North Carolina. Participatory photography grew in popularity, through community projects, emerging as an NGO tool in the early 90’s, eventually gaining mainstream exposure through the Oscar winning documentary ‘Born Into Brothels’ in 1995. PP is now widely practised around the globe, from micro projects run by individuals with a handful of participants, to huge initiatives like ‘Lazha’ run by Zakira in Palestinian refugee camps in Lebanon involving 500 children.
Cover of the book produced using the photos from Zakira's 'Lahza' participatory photography project (Copyright Zakira).
Despite variations in how projects are run the basics remain the same – social activists or professional photographers train a group of people (usually kids) in difficult circumstances to use cameras in order to improve their situation. Groups targeted for such projects tend to be marginalised or discriminated against for a variety of reasons, and do not have access to such art based educational opportunities. The objectives for each project vary, with PP being used in many different ways. It is partly this diversity of outcomes that explains the many benefits claimed by PP, and for people to question PP’s ability to deliver. Can it really be a ‘jack of all trades’, and does this make it ‘master of none’?
The on-going political protests in Iran following the election have generated a great deal of interest, especially in regard to the use of Twitter and other social networking sites. These have been not only used as tools to organize opposition demonstrations and share info, but also to share images of previous protests. The authorities are making attempts to limit these communication mechanisms to quell dissent, but the multitude of devises you can Tweet from, not to mention other sites and mobile devises makes this difficult. See Rights Exposure recent Tweets for two stories (one in the NYT and the other in the UK Telegraph) for more info.
Also of interest is an article posted today on No Caption Needed – ‘Showing Political Action: Images in the Iranian Protests’ – that shows how images of the protests are being used at subsequent protests. Refreshingly, the article looks at what people do with images rather than an academic analysis of what ‘truth’ is shown, representation and power relationships between photographer and subject.
The latest edition of ‘The Drum Beat‘ (issue 496) looks at the use of video for social change, featuring examples from different parts of the world.
The Drum Beat is a weekly on-line magazine summarizing the content of the Communication Initiative (CI) website. The CI network is ‘an online space for sharing the experiences of, and building bridges between, the people and organisations engaged in or supporting communication as a fundamental strategy for economic and social development and change.’
I have just contributed an article to the Amnesty International Australiawebsite looking at the use of visual media in campaigning for the rights of individuals at risk
The article briefly addresses issues such as the power of images to bring individuals together, allow people to tell their own stories (including participatory techniques), the increasing availability of digital recording technology and web-based platforms, and the need to link images to campaign mechanisms for people to take action. Check it out here.
