I have so many thoughts. Will need to distill them. But I love taking photos of people, but mostly of people I know. I know people, including here on Substack, who post a lot of photos of other people, which they have taken without the people in the photo knowing it. I do think it is problematic. I recently posted a picture in a post- a photo I took many years ago in a bus in Paris and none of the people in the photo were asked for permission, but since it is a random photo of bus passengers, is that ok? I wonder. I've had my photo posted on Substack without my permission too. Definitely not ok.
I also love how you've woven Tremor into this. It is interesting because Cole is a photographer as well as a writer, but his photos, if I am not mistaken, rarely, if ever feature any humans.(and bravo for helping with street directions to people in Portuguese :-)
Around the same time of this incident, perhaps a day or two before, I took a picture (from a distance) of two women in a local fish market. One was picking up fish from a box of ice to hand to her partner at a fish stall. There was something almost Biblical in the ‘form’ they made: two or three fish laid out across the palms of one the hands of one while the other opened hers to receive. I was up on a balcony looking down at them, watching. I didn’t ask their permission. I ‘stole’ that picture because it captured something for me that I found deeply moving. And I’m still wondering if I should include it in a future piece I want to write about the ‘Tragedia da Mar’ sculptures in Matosinhos.
I think for me it was the fact that I’d made initial contact with the guy as in offering to get out of the way. He could have asked then if he could take a photo with me in it but he didn’t - for me, I think this did come down to that discourtesy. But of course it then opened up that whole more sinister arena in which photographs are being taken, stored, and used for purposes we 100% know we would NOT give our consent for if anyone bothered to ask!
Thanks for those reflections, Liza. It’s a conundrum, especially perhaps for those of us here. Posting photographs of my day-to-day here is part of what I do. But it’s made me have a useful discussion with myself, and hopefully here with you and others 😊
If you learned anything from your own experience, judgments, and discomfort from this encounter; wouldn't it be discourteous to the women at the fish market, for you to take photos of them from a balcony? Maybe they did see you, or someone else informed them of some lady high above them stealing their image. You don't know, because you did not ask. Your photos are no more justified, than that retired fella. Even if they are, "at a distance," or "Biblical," they are similar acts of voyeurism and discounting of consent.
I am just going to put this here for contemplation:
Your original:
"He had no idea who I might be nor what my circumstances might be. And, more to the point, he must know that I had no idea why he would be taking my photo. Would it not occur to any reasonable man that taking a photo of a woman—or of anyone—without their permission is a violation of privacy?"
Updated:
I had no idea who they might be nor what their circumstances might be. And, more to the point, I must have known that they had no idea why I would be taking my photo of them from high above on a balcony. Would it not occur to any reasonable person that taking a photo of women—or of anyone—without their permission is a violation of privacy?
And lastly.
What I do know, like Tunde, you: "…was a stranger who had simply looked past him and taken something the way the wealthy take what belongs to others and then act surprised when they are challenged. Taking. That’s what those who are well-off do. They take and take and take."
The choice going forward, with concern for the ethics and posting of your own photography, is either continued hypocrisy or self awareness and mandatory consent.
Thank you for interrogating the ethical dilemma I posed myself in this way, and I came to the same position you seem to have: that it was not a photograph I feel comfortable for having taken and it isn’t one I plan to share anywhere. It was something I questioned while I took it, and hence why I chose to relay it here, too, but finding the ‘shoe on the other foot’ a couple of days later was important.
Atticus Finch in ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ told Scout that it was important to always imagine walking in someone else’s shoes. That has stayed with me since I first read that book in my early teens and I try to live by it. Sometimes, though, people trip up, and it always helps to have others nearby to hold out a hand.
We all need to pause for a moment, check our own privilege and entitlement, before we click the shutter on one another.
One last thought. It might add value to the argument for readers, if instead of this ethical dilemma and reevaluation being buried in the comments, it was included in an addendum to the published article. I believe sharing this more balanced perspective would be of real value to those with similar ethical questions concerning photography and public spaces. Thank you for the thoughtful response.
I really appreciate that, and it’s a good idea. I’d already planned to write a short ‘review’ of the conversations that have followed both this piece and another piece I wrote recently (about learning Portuguese) in my next ‘Flittings’, precisely because the comment threads have offered such rich and thought-provoking ideas in response to both. Watch out for the credit!
Interestingly, this was a piece that I rewrote several times, reframing and refocusing in several different ways, and some things were cut or excluded in an attempt at coherence. The original piece did indeed include not just my photo but a sculpture of grieving women in the same town, but my premise got too unwieldy for the form here.
I also like to try to write these ‘Letters’ increasingly in an undidactic way, ‘showing’ (and ‘alluding’), not telling, as I really want there to be space for readers to find their own way in, and to connect with what matters to them.
Anyway, such an interesting exchange, which also prompts reflections on my part of how- as someone writing personal essays here - I make choices about what to say out loud and what I’m curious to know if some readers might hear - and then of course there’s the anticipation of someone exposing a fault line, as I think you’ve done here!
Interesting post, raises thought-provoking question. Ted was a street photographer back in the day before the proliferation of AI, social media, facial recognition. He shared he used to take photographs without permission unless he sensed discomfort. He thinks now his approach merits rethinking.
‘Unless he sensed discomfort’ - and that’s important. I can’t imagine Ted being anything other than sensitive and respectful.
But I do think our context has changed (facial recognition, deep fake, surveillance society etc) and I’m certainly asking myself these questions. In our local village, I have asked the women in the wash-house if I may take a photograph. They give permission- but then I wonder how much this is the passivity of the un-empowered? The street vendor in ‘Tremor’ shocks Tunde as he doesn’t anticipate the poor and vulnerable challenging him.
The gentleman should have asked permission for a photo clearly focused on you, even if language was a potential barrier. Such a combination of rudeness, boldness, and effrontery. I am the type to confront and would have gotten up to speak with him once I realized what had happened. Perhaps the explanation would allay any concerns, but he needs to be held to account.
I think that’s another reason why I was annoyed: with myself for not challenging. But I think I was so shocked that he’d seemed to disappear into the crowds only to return to get what he wanted. And then glibly continue snapping other human ‘street furniture’ 😡
This is a fascinating issue that I think about every week as I go out and film for my YouTube channel in the Algarve. I'm sure you've heard of the Hawthorne Effect, where people change their behaviour the minute they suspect that they're being observed by a camera. If we want to capture a "real" uninterrupted street scene, should we capture it after asking permission? Potentially that would alter the scene completely, having people pose for us. Could a better way be asking permission AFTER taking the photo/video and then explaining? It's a tough situation. I struggle with it.
I’d forgotten the term, but ‘Hawthorn Effect’ is so valid here. I’ve been keeping this conversation going offline, including with photographer friends of mine. There are clearly ethical practices - the law is cool with people being photographed in public places - but with the proliferation of surveillance, our phones automatically uploading photos to the Cloud, and AI/deep fake, it will no doubt take a reinvigorated discussion over privacy, consent, and identity ownership to help steer us more confidently through these next few years.
If you’re interested, I’m planning to hold my first ‘Live Video’ on this topic with Kathy Harms, a friend and professional photographer, and fellow Substacker, here in Porto, early in the New Year 😊 Very much looking forward to taking the fascinating conversation here into a ‘live’ space
Maybe it is because of places I’ve lived where I would never take a photo of a person as it is not custom is frowned upon or just seen as intrusion
Or there is a moment where a person is I would / did / do always ask permission
Somehow I always feel I maybe encroaching on a personal moment a personal time or many more reasons that may have far reaching consequences ( have watched far too many murder mysteries & 007) but seriously
I feel if I took it with out permission I’ve stepped over a line I’ve stolen something that is not mine
That notion of stealing something that isn't yours is really profound, and I am grateful for you voicing that here - and it's exactly what Teju Cole says in 'Tremor', too. This discussion has really got me wondering just how people who do street photography professionally go about things? (I do know a couple of photographers so I'm going to pose this question to them - probably should have done that before writing this piece!)
When we lived in India, we were frequently asked by perfect strangers to be part of their group and family photos. Initially this seemed intrusive, but we soon became accustomed to the requests and smiled happily for the camera.
Where did you live, if that’s not too intrusive a question?! My maternal family are from India, and A and I spent 6 months traveling the length and breadth. I completely recognize that scenario, and for me the core difference is that it involved connection and communication consent. We still have a photograph of the tea sellers we met at the top of a hill in a tea plantation in Sri Lanka. They had insisted we took their picture, and just asked that we post them a copy. It led to conversations and a moment to learn about each other’s lives.
We lived in Mumbai for 5 years and loved it! We also have memorable shared photos 😀 I do agree that permission was the key difference: Your experience in Porto seemed a bit creepy and inappropriate…
This article comes at the perfect time. Thank you for this insightful piece; your observaton about slowing down and truly seeing the world around us is so important right now. A great reminder.
Thank you, @Rainbow Roxy 😊 You know - that wasn’t something I really lingered over while I was writing that piece but you’re so right: finding moments just to sit and gaze at whatever is going on in front of us is something we’re too rapidly losing the habit/art/skill of. YOU have just reminded me that I’ve promised myself that my daily act of just gazing is to go and look at the sunset whenever I can. It’s been beautiful today so I’m going to go out now and catch it while I can! 🦋
Michelle, thank you, what you may have missed is how pernicious the underlying, cultural, acceptance of the predatory aspects of the culture we live in. My image is mine. No one has the right to appropriate my image.
I once, instantly and unthinkingly, broke a stranger's camera, reacting to that assault. we, and I do mean particularly women, have faced this a long time. I hope that Copyright amendment actually passes; whether women will have the economic ability to deal with the legal profession to enforce it is quite another question.
Such an interesting comment, Thelma. And what you pick up on is one of a number of early ‘frames’ I had for this piece. Concepts of violation, of predatory behaviour, and gender power imbalance were all there in my initial scoping of the piece, but in the end I opted not to write that ‘large’. I hoped (and imagined) that those ideas might still rise to the surface for some readers, though. Thank you for naming them.
A fascinating post! A few years ago, it was common, in rural Portugal, to see women carrying baskets and packages on their heads, something I haven't seen in years now. My gran and mum were fascinated and snapped a couple of photos.
Tourists and other foreigners were rarely seen in the 1980s, so the sight of these two strangely dressed women taking their photos was equally amusing to the rural women. I heard them cackling "What funny people they are, taking photos of us!"
This has long stayed with me. Perhaps if these local women had had a camera, they would have photographed them right back. Certainly, when I was first in Portugal, as the lone Brit in the village, people used to put down their shopping bags and walk round me, staring, as if I was an exhibit at a museum.
I'm sure my mum didn't intend to treat the locals as if they were in a zoo for their entertainment, she was just thinking about what was interesting. Likewise, I saw a tourist last week poking their camera right through the bars of wrought iron gate to take a photo of the beautiful colonial style house beyond. In some ways, this is just human curiosity, but we would be very cautious of doing this in London or New York, where curiosity is potential dangerous.
But there should be limits. Sometimes it's innocent; I didn't really mind being stared at, but I thought the tourist poking their camera through the gates of someone's house went a bit too far. Likewise, that tourist or artist who was photographing you was clearly ignoring your right to privacy.
I imagine all of us at some point have taken photos of ‘locals’ to capture something of their difference to us, or some perception we may have of an authenticity that expresses a place and culture - it feels important, somehow, to have witnessed this and we have the tools to preserve. I still love looking at photos of people from our travels over the years. We are endlessly fascinating to each other, and your story shared a reciprocality, which I love!
I also think we are entering a period of pretty seismic shift, and we may well look back on who and how we photograph today with shock at our innocence!
I have so many thoughts. Will need to distill them. But I love taking photos of people, but mostly of people I know. I know people, including here on Substack, who post a lot of photos of other people, which they have taken without the people in the photo knowing it. I do think it is problematic. I recently posted a picture in a post- a photo I took many years ago in a bus in Paris and none of the people in the photo were asked for permission, but since it is a random photo of bus passengers, is that ok? I wonder. I've had my photo posted on Substack without my permission too. Definitely not ok.
I also love how you've woven Tremor into this. It is interesting because Cole is a photographer as well as a writer, but his photos, if I am not mistaken, rarely, if ever feature any humans.(and bravo for helping with street directions to people in Portuguese :-)
Around the same time of this incident, perhaps a day or two before, I took a picture (from a distance) of two women in a local fish market. One was picking up fish from a box of ice to hand to her partner at a fish stall. There was something almost Biblical in the ‘form’ they made: two or three fish laid out across the palms of one the hands of one while the other opened hers to receive. I was up on a balcony looking down at them, watching. I didn’t ask their permission. I ‘stole’ that picture because it captured something for me that I found deeply moving. And I’m still wondering if I should include it in a future piece I want to write about the ‘Tragedia da Mar’ sculptures in Matosinhos.
I think for me it was the fact that I’d made initial contact with the guy as in offering to get out of the way. He could have asked then if he could take a photo with me in it but he didn’t - for me, I think this did come down to that discourtesy. But of course it then opened up that whole more sinister arena in which photographs are being taken, stored, and used for purposes we 100% know we would NOT give our consent for if anyone bothered to ask!
Thanks for those reflections, Liza. It’s a conundrum, especially perhaps for those of us here. Posting photographs of my day-to-day here is part of what I do. But it’s made me have a useful discussion with myself, and hopefully here with you and others 😊
If you learned anything from your own experience, judgments, and discomfort from this encounter; wouldn't it be discourteous to the women at the fish market, for you to take photos of them from a balcony? Maybe they did see you, or someone else informed them of some lady high above them stealing their image. You don't know, because you did not ask. Your photos are no more justified, than that retired fella. Even if they are, "at a distance," or "Biblical," they are similar acts of voyeurism and discounting of consent.
I am just going to put this here for contemplation:
Your original:
"He had no idea who I might be nor what my circumstances might be. And, more to the point, he must know that I had no idea why he would be taking my photo. Would it not occur to any reasonable man that taking a photo of a woman—or of anyone—without their permission is a violation of privacy?"
Updated:
I had no idea who they might be nor what their circumstances might be. And, more to the point, I must have known that they had no idea why I would be taking my photo of them from high above on a balcony. Would it not occur to any reasonable person that taking a photo of women—or of anyone—without their permission is a violation of privacy?
And lastly.
What I do know, like Tunde, you: "…was a stranger who had simply looked past him and taken something the way the wealthy take what belongs to others and then act surprised when they are challenged. Taking. That’s what those who are well-off do. They take and take and take."
The choice going forward, with concern for the ethics and posting of your own photography, is either continued hypocrisy or self awareness and mandatory consent.
Thank you for interrogating the ethical dilemma I posed myself in this way, and I came to the same position you seem to have: that it was not a photograph I feel comfortable for having taken and it isn’t one I plan to share anywhere. It was something I questioned while I took it, and hence why I chose to relay it here, too, but finding the ‘shoe on the other foot’ a couple of days later was important.
Atticus Finch in ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ told Scout that it was important to always imagine walking in someone else’s shoes. That has stayed with me since I first read that book in my early teens and I try to live by it. Sometimes, though, people trip up, and it always helps to have others nearby to hold out a hand.
Well said.
We all need to pause for a moment, check our own privilege and entitlement, before we click the shutter on one another.
One last thought. It might add value to the argument for readers, if instead of this ethical dilemma and reevaluation being buried in the comments, it was included in an addendum to the published article. I believe sharing this more balanced perspective would be of real value to those with similar ethical questions concerning photography and public spaces. Thank you for the thoughtful response.
I really appreciate that, and it’s a good idea. I’d already planned to write a short ‘review’ of the conversations that have followed both this piece and another piece I wrote recently (about learning Portuguese) in my next ‘Flittings’, precisely because the comment threads have offered such rich and thought-provoking ideas in response to both. Watch out for the credit!
Interestingly, this was a piece that I rewrote several times, reframing and refocusing in several different ways, and some things were cut or excluded in an attempt at coherence. The original piece did indeed include not just my photo but a sculpture of grieving women in the same town, but my premise got too unwieldy for the form here.
I also like to try to write these ‘Letters’ increasingly in an undidactic way, ‘showing’ (and ‘alluding’), not telling, as I really want there to be space for readers to find their own way in, and to connect with what matters to them.
Anyway, such an interesting exchange, which also prompts reflections on my part of how- as someone writing personal essays here - I make choices about what to say out loud and what I’m curious to know if some readers might hear - and then of course there’s the anticipation of someone exposing a fault line, as I think you’ve done here!
Interesting post, raises thought-provoking question. Ted was a street photographer back in the day before the proliferation of AI, social media, facial recognition. He shared he used to take photographs without permission unless he sensed discomfort. He thinks now his approach merits rethinking.
‘Unless he sensed discomfort’ - and that’s important. I can’t imagine Ted being anything other than sensitive and respectful.
But I do think our context has changed (facial recognition, deep fake, surveillance society etc) and I’m certainly asking myself these questions. In our local village, I have asked the women in the wash-house if I may take a photograph. They give permission- but then I wonder how much this is the passivity of the un-empowered? The street vendor in ‘Tremor’ shocks Tunde as he doesn’t anticipate the poor and vulnerable challenging him.
Verdade--"the passivity of the unempowered..."
The gentleman should have asked permission for a photo clearly focused on you, even if language was a potential barrier. Such a combination of rudeness, boldness, and effrontery. I am the type to confront and would have gotten up to speak with him once I realized what had happened. Perhaps the explanation would allay any concerns, but he needs to be held to account.
I think that’s another reason why I was annoyed: with myself for not challenging. But I think I was so shocked that he’d seemed to disappear into the crowds only to return to get what he wanted. And then glibly continue snapping other human ‘street furniture’ 😡
This is a fascinating issue that I think about every week as I go out and film for my YouTube channel in the Algarve. I'm sure you've heard of the Hawthorne Effect, where people change their behaviour the minute they suspect that they're being observed by a camera. If we want to capture a "real" uninterrupted street scene, should we capture it after asking permission? Potentially that would alter the scene completely, having people pose for us. Could a better way be asking permission AFTER taking the photo/video and then explaining? It's a tough situation. I struggle with it.
I’d forgotten the term, but ‘Hawthorn Effect’ is so valid here. I’ve been keeping this conversation going offline, including with photographer friends of mine. There are clearly ethical practices - the law is cool with people being photographed in public places - but with the proliferation of surveillance, our phones automatically uploading photos to the Cloud, and AI/deep fake, it will no doubt take a reinvigorated discussion over privacy, consent, and identity ownership to help steer us more confidently through these next few years.
If you’re interested, I’m planning to hold my first ‘Live Video’ on this topic with Kathy Harms, a friend and professional photographer, and fellow Substacker, here in Porto, early in the New Year 😊 Very much looking forward to taking the fascinating conversation here into a ‘live’ space
Maybe it is because of places I’ve lived where I would never take a photo of a person as it is not custom is frowned upon or just seen as intrusion
Or there is a moment where a person is I would / did / do always ask permission
Somehow I always feel I maybe encroaching on a personal moment a personal time or many more reasons that may have far reaching consequences ( have watched far too many murder mysteries & 007) but seriously
I feel if I took it with out permission I’ve stepped over a line I’ve stolen something that is not mine
That notion of stealing something that isn't yours is really profound, and I am grateful for you voicing that here - and it's exactly what Teju Cole says in 'Tremor', too. This discussion has really got me wondering just how people who do street photography professionally go about things? (I do know a couple of photographers so I'm going to pose this question to them - probably should have done that before writing this piece!)
When we lived in India, we were frequently asked by perfect strangers to be part of their group and family photos. Initially this seemed intrusive, but we soon became accustomed to the requests and smiled happily for the camera.
Where did you live, if that’s not too intrusive a question?! My maternal family are from India, and A and I spent 6 months traveling the length and breadth. I completely recognize that scenario, and for me the core difference is that it involved connection and communication consent. We still have a photograph of the tea sellers we met at the top of a hill in a tea plantation in Sri Lanka. They had insisted we took their picture, and just asked that we post them a copy. It led to conversations and a moment to learn about each other’s lives.
We lived in Mumbai for 5 years and loved it! We also have memorable shared photos 😀 I do agree that permission was the key difference: Your experience in Porto seemed a bit creepy and inappropriate…
This article comes at the perfect time. Thank you for this insightful piece; your observaton about slowing down and truly seeing the world around us is so important right now. A great reminder.
Thank you, @Rainbow Roxy 😊 You know - that wasn’t something I really lingered over while I was writing that piece but you’re so right: finding moments just to sit and gaze at whatever is going on in front of us is something we’re too rapidly losing the habit/art/skill of. YOU have just reminded me that I’ve promised myself that my daily act of just gazing is to go and look at the sunset whenever I can. It’s been beautiful today so I’m going to go out now and catch it while I can! 🦋
Michelle, thank you, what you may have missed is how pernicious the underlying, cultural, acceptance of the predatory aspects of the culture we live in. My image is mine. No one has the right to appropriate my image.
I once, instantly and unthinkingly, broke a stranger's camera, reacting to that assault. we, and I do mean particularly women, have faced this a long time. I hope that Copyright amendment actually passes; whether women will have the economic ability to deal with the legal profession to enforce it is quite another question.
Such an interesting comment, Thelma. And what you pick up on is one of a number of early ‘frames’ I had for this piece. Concepts of violation, of predatory behaviour, and gender power imbalance were all there in my initial scoping of the piece, but in the end I opted not to write that ‘large’. I hoped (and imagined) that those ideas might still rise to the surface for some readers, though. Thank you for naming them.
A fascinating post! A few years ago, it was common, in rural Portugal, to see women carrying baskets and packages on their heads, something I haven't seen in years now. My gran and mum were fascinated and snapped a couple of photos.
Tourists and other foreigners were rarely seen in the 1980s, so the sight of these two strangely dressed women taking their photos was equally amusing to the rural women. I heard them cackling "What funny people they are, taking photos of us!"
This has long stayed with me. Perhaps if these local women had had a camera, they would have photographed them right back. Certainly, when I was first in Portugal, as the lone Brit in the village, people used to put down their shopping bags and walk round me, staring, as if I was an exhibit at a museum.
I'm sure my mum didn't intend to treat the locals as if they were in a zoo for their entertainment, she was just thinking about what was interesting. Likewise, I saw a tourist last week poking their camera right through the bars of wrought iron gate to take a photo of the beautiful colonial style house beyond. In some ways, this is just human curiosity, but we would be very cautious of doing this in London or New York, where curiosity is potential dangerous.
But there should be limits. Sometimes it's innocent; I didn't really mind being stared at, but I thought the tourist poking their camera through the gates of someone's house went a bit too far. Likewise, that tourist or artist who was photographing you was clearly ignoring your right to privacy.
But how do we know when we've gone too far?
I imagine all of us at some point have taken photos of ‘locals’ to capture something of their difference to us, or some perception we may have of an authenticity that expresses a place and culture - it feels important, somehow, to have witnessed this and we have the tools to preserve. I still love looking at photos of people from our travels over the years. We are endlessly fascinating to each other, and your story shared a reciprocality, which I love!
I also think we are entering a period of pretty seismic shift, and we may well look back on who and how we photograph today with shock at our innocence!