TRUTH, THE FIRST CASUALTY
PART I

Conflict photography considered as bellwether for a dawning understanding
of digital imagery as a new medium - by
Stephen Mayes


What makes “a photograph” a photograph? Is the digital image a missed opportunity or a threat to our notion of truth? How has the digital revolution impacted conflict coverage? This two-part essay re-evaluates the anachronous perception of digital imagery as analogue photography. Mayes confronts the language and visual strategies used for the computational medium and questions the meaning of truth in the age of the numerical image.

 
 

PART I/II

There is a problem underlying almost every current conversation about visual imagery, which is the dominant use of a misleading vocabulary about “photography” when discussing visual imagery that is created using digital technology. The deceit is not deliberate but it is so widespread that it might be described as a form of cultural self-deception that perpetuates a comforting belief that everything we understand about photography can be carried forward and simply overlaid onto today’s discussion of lens based, digital imagery.

The word “photograph” applied in this context disguises the transformational changes that have taken place almost invisibly while we watched, as the technology of recording light moved from photography made on film to imagery made with sensors. Across nearly two centuries we refined mineral and chemical processes to create ever more accurate, exact and factual records of the light that passed through the camera lens with the technological ambition of achieving less grain, greater acuity and the ever more precise rendering of every photon reflected or projected from the object.

In less than a decade as we crossed into a new Millennium from 1995 to 2005 this mechanical and chemical process was replaced by a variety of digital processes that instead use notional samples of that same light to feed an onboard computer with just sufficient light to construct a framework image which is brought to full form using processes of interpolation to fill the gaps. In front of our eyes yet almost invisibly, indexical accuracy has been replaced by the computer’s approximated representation of the world we know.

If we need convincing about how radically the change from analogue to digital really is, consider the nature of film versus the nature of a sensor. Whereas layers of dye or emulsion are placed on top of each other on film to create a continuous rendering of colour that uses every photon coming through the lens to indexically mirror the pattern of light outside, the digital sensor cannot stack pixels and colour is achieved by interpolating information from adjacent pixels. What this actually means is that two thirds of the photons entering through the lens are discarded because the horizontal array of pixels cannot accommodate all the information. Considered further we realize that the image that looks like a photograph is built from only one third of the light information that would be used to expose film. What we are looking at is in fact a computational phenomenon, a fabrication of the computer and not wholly the representational phenomenon that the label “photograph” claims it to be.

Subtlety of interpretation, researched relevance, investigative inquiry and thoughtful editing no longer held their value as professional attributes, and theoretical commentary on the consequent changes in reportage style focused heavily on this accelerated workflow. 

The computational image has been engineered to mimic the look of conventional photography so it’s maybe not surprising that practitioners were not greatly concerned by the almost seamless operational transition from indexical to computational representation. However, photographers were quickly impacted by a number of changes in their workflow, none more powerfully than those working in conflict situations. At first it seemed like a relief to no longer wet-process film in the field, producing negatives to be edited, scanned and transmitted across unreliable data connections, but this new convenience soon manifested as a major disruption to the conventions of field reporting. The commercial pressure of supplying 24-hour digital editions made particular demands for high-impact visual coverage and it soon became apparent that survival as a conflict photographer required not only the physical agility to avoid injury and capture, but increasingly demanded mental and emotional energy to fulfill high-volume production on accelerated timelines. Subtlety of interpretation, researched relevance, investigative inquiry and thoughtful editing no longer held their value as professional attributes, and theoretical commentary on the consequent changes in reportage style focused heavily on this accelerated workflow. 

New rules were in formation for everyone in the news production chain and to some it seemed that the digital technology was designed to support new priorities that valued attention-grabbing early exclusives above the factual integrity that was traditionally associated with analogue photography.

 
Illustration by Alexey Yurenev / FOTODEMIC

Illustration by Alexey Yurenev / FOTODEMIC

 

In 2003 Brian Walski was working for the LA Times, covering the American invasion of Iraq, and under immense pressure to feed the press he combined two near-similar adjacent frames in a field-edit that didn’t distort the factual accuracy of the story but introduced an exaggerated visual impact. The subsequent furor when the edit was discovered demonstrated unequivocal public expectation that the digital image should behave exactly like the analogue photograph and Walski lost his job. That this was the product of a new medium with clearly differentiated characteristics seems to have gone unremarked as the clamour for the continuity of analogue standards persisted, at least in the context of conflict reporting, even as certain new characteristics were selectively embraced (such as speedy production and easy digital distribution). Walski attributed the whole debacle to the pressure on production. 

It should be noted that other categories of digital imagery were not held to the same standards of factual completeness and throughout this transition period portraiture, for example, was commonly expected to have been retouched. Vanity Fair during the same period spent as much on retouching the images in each issue as most news magazines’ entire photo budget because readers expected to see celebrities in idealised “perfection” without skin blemishes, stray hairs, damaged nails or other distracting realities. Sports photographers could arguably be said to work under equivalent pressure to deliver rapid-deadline dramatic imagery but the pattern of high-speed production during Saturday games for Sunday publication was already well established and was supported by well-oiled infrastructure. Manipulations, when they were identified (often to make a ball visible in the frame), were greeted mainly with irritated exclamations and rarely if ever with the same condemnation that was applied to conflict coverage.

The concern about accelerated workflows was soon overtaken by a deeper wound to the commercial viability of news photography as the business model of online publishing fell apart under pressure from the shifting patterns of Internet advertising, exacerbated by the proliferation of digitally distributed information from multiple sources including first responders equipped with Smartphones.

But if we consider the value placed on visual imagery as a medium of “truthful” expression we must open the door to a weighty discussion about the nature of truth as we replace our confidence in factual records with a willing engagement with interpretive processes.

The changed workflows and the evolving cultural role of the photographic image have been acknowledged and were widely discussed at the time, but the profound ontological shift that describes the new digital process is less frequently referenced. In the main people have assumed ontological continuity consistent with the visual continuity of the computational image whose market-driven appearance so closely mimics the indexical, analogue output. Popular culture has yet to even recognize the transition from indexical representation, and general discussion of vernacular imagery made by digital processes assumes continuity of the factual foundations, albeit with increasingly elaborate overlays of digital “enhancements” designed to compensate for increasingly simplified operational procedures. The Kodak marketing slogan, “You push the button, we do the rest” was first used in 1888 but could have been written specifically to describe the modern “automatic” settings that “sharpen” the digital file, apply colour “corrections”, “compensate” exposure, etc. All these expressions suggest that the technology is driving an ever-closer adherence to an assumed absolute factual accuracy. Much theoretical analysis finds it easier to maintain these assumptions than to consider the implications of the tectonic change that threaten to undermine our thinking about the modern “photographic” image.

But if we consider the value placed on visual imagery as a medium of “truthful” expression we must open the door to a weighty discussion about the nature of truth as we replace our confidence in factual records with a willing engagement with interpretive processes. One truth that is stubbornly buried in the discourse is that until we recognize the distinction between indexical and computational imagery, the vocabulary of “photography” remains deceptive when applied to digital processes.

By avoiding deeper discussion of the profound shift from analogue to digital process, two momentous issues now sit in the room like the proverbial elephants, unavoidable and blocking our vision but which we have chosen to ignore.

One particularly significant analysis that hit head-on the ontological difference between analogue and digital imagery was “The Integrity Of the Image” written by David Campbell for the World Press Photo Foundation. This thorough study systematically examined the technical differences between the analogue and computational image. Subtitled, “Current Practices and accepted standards relating to the manipulation of still images in photojournalism and documentary photography,” the report offers an exceptional overview that uniquely blends research of the scientific processes, production workflows and cultural expectations of the digital image in the context of best-practice contemporary news coverage. But written as a practical guide for media professionals engaged in daily production (and published in the context of a competition that assesses the value and veracity of imagery exclusively in this context) Campbell’s analysis has received scant critical attention from theorists observing the process.

By avoiding deeper discussion of the profound shift from analogue to digital process, two momentous issues now sit in the room like the proverbial elephants, unavoidable and blocking our vision but which we have chosen to ignore.

Firstly we face a profound failure to understand what we’re looking at, and secondly, maybe more importantly, we are failing to imagine the amazing new opportunities offered by the emergent qualities of the new medium now in our hands. 

 
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Valley of the Shadow of Death Sequential Glass Plates, Crimea, April 23, 1855 by Roger Fenton / Library of Congress

Valley of the Shadow of Death Sequential Glass Plates, Crimea, April 23, 1855 by Roger Fenton / Library of Congress

 

It’s a situation that has existed before when old technologies have given way to new. For example in the mid 19th Century when the photographic medium was first developed a similar crisis of comprehension occurred when considering the phenomenon of recorded light, at least in English-speaking territories. The term “photograph” was not commonly used until the mid 1850’s, nearly two decades after Daguerre, Fox-Talbot and their peers created their first miraculous images. Up until that point the process was commonly described as “photogenic drawing” and it’s easy to understand why: here was an image fixed and etched onto glass or paper which must therefore be a form of drawing, and it’s made with light so it’s a photogenic drawing. The title of Fox-Talbot’s book “The Pencil Of Nature” published in chapters 1844~1846 emphasized the conceptual reliance on preexisting technologies when thinking about the new medium. It eventually became necessary to create new vocabulary to reflect the conceptual developments that followed the technological developments and “photography” arrived in the world.

Modern consternation about the work of early documentarists such as Roger Fenton and Alexander Gardner demonstrates the chasm of comprehension that separates the old and the new media. When critiquing Fenton’s 1855 constructed representations of conflict for which he relocated Crimean cannonballs and Gardner’s artfully balanced corpses, posed to form more pleasing compositions during the American Civil War, we apply 170 years experience of documentary photography together with all the associated protocols that have been developed specifically for this form of representation. But consider instead a conceptual paradigm that interprets their imagery as a form of drawing and these modern arguments begin to look ridiculous, or at the very least anachronistic. It is hard to imagine the extraordinary forensic attention that has been applied to Fenton and Gardner’s imagery of the Crimean and American Civil Wars being applied to Goya’s “Disasters of War”. Goya’s etchings preceded Fenton’s work by only 35 years yet they are unsullied by accusations of fictionalized representation because they are evidently bona fide hand drawings and the profound truths revealed are interpreted as such. But what if Fenton and Gardner’s images were also considered a form of drawing but made with a startling new technology that effectively substituted one form of pencil with another (as Fox-Talbot clearly believed)? Critics of Fenton and Gardner may have failed to understand their failure to understand the ontological difference between hand drawing and “photogenic drawing”. It is clear to us with the benefit of hindsight that new rules should be applied when considering the photogenic image as an indexical form of documentation.

It is clear to us with the benefit of hindsight that new rules should be applied when considering the photogenic image as an indexical form of documentation.

But while Fenton and Gardner were enthusiasts for the new technology they were actually applying valid protocols that had been extended from preceding documentary processes.

 
Gettysburg Devil’s Den Sharpshooter by Alexander Gardner / Library of Congress

Gettysburg Devil’s Den Sharpshooter by Alexander Gardner / Library of Congress

 

We are in just such a moment now. Nearly every image made in the last decade has been created, distributed and consumed in an utterly new medium for which we have no name, but for which we extend the protocols previously applied to photography.  We are in the early 21st Century, sharpening our 20th Century “pencils” as we attempt continuity with long established, familiar standards. The disjuncture is considerably more significant than the introduction of “smart pencils” like PhotoShop and other softwares that facilitate manipulation of the image post exposure. The very substrate of the original digital file is in effect a different medium with attributes that are profoundly different from the attributes of the photograph. But because the appearance so seductively mimics the appearance of the photograph we are almost inevitaby seduced into talking of it using the now-outdated but not-yet-replaced vocabulary of photography. The commercial rationale for camera manufacturers to perpetrate this seduction is clear and will continue as long as the market demands images that mimic the appearance of photographs. The rationale for those of us who seek to understand imagery is less clear and it’s hard to understand why, if our intent is truly to understand, we would perpetuate the expectations of a now defunct medium (or at best an artisanal medium) in this new environment. 

Nearly every image made in the last decade has been created, distributed and consumed in an utterly new medium for which we have no name, but for which we extend the protocols previously applied to photography.

Part of the explanation for this anachronous use of language is the difficulty of describing phenomena for which there are no culturally consistent words. I struggle to find words that adequately describe the phenomena of digital image making, let alone to describe the transformative consequences of Internet distribution together with the integrated consumption of images that we as mobile-phone cyborgs now experience. I sometimes feel as though I’m playing charades, that parlour game in which players must guess the intended vocabulary of a speaker who is bound to remain mute and uses only gestures to communicate. I find myself constantly pointing at parallel phenomena to indicate that what I’m trying to describe: “It looks like this”, “sounds like that” or “feels a bit like something else,” all of which are familiar but inaccurate, being merely gestural signifiers for phenomena that I’m trying to describe. 

 
No llegan a tiempo (They do not arrive in time). Two women, one with a child in her arms, huddle behind the ruins of a building to lay a third woman to rest in the ground, Francisco Goya / Museo Del Prado

No llegan a tiempo (They do not arrive in time). Two women, one with a child in her arms, huddle behind the ruins of a building to lay a third woman to rest in the ground, Francisco Goya / Museo Del Prado

 

It’s not an efficient way to advance culture and it’s becoming clear that the problem is deeper than simply struggling to name the parts. It’s becoming necessary to define a new way of thinking about imagery but it’s laborious and inefficient to communicate new conceptual thinking without appropriate language. 

It’s becoming necessary to define a new way of thinking about imagery but it’s laborious and inefficient to communicate new conceptual thinking without appropriate language.

However, there is a cultural shortcut, a sort of paradigmatic “wormhole” through which to slip into an alternate universe where there is already a new way of thinking about imagery. It’s not a way of thinking that is understood by those of us trapped in the language and history of photography but is lived instead by app developers, programmers, marketing technicians, political campaigners, security forces and countless others who are already immersed in the new thinking about imagery without the hindrance of historical references to photographic processes. 

This other constituency comprises all the new crafts whose practitioners have no knowledge and even less interest in the lessons learned during photography’s history. These are the business developers and technologists of all kinds who see market opportunities in the huge and growing consumer culture of conversational image-makers who are making imagery on mobile phones for the exchange of information, ideas and social messaging. The population of private citizens around the world, very few of whom have deep knowledge of traditional photography production are happy to work with Smartphones that perform effortless reworking of their images. 

The population of private citizens around the world, very few of whom have deep knowledge of traditional photography production are happy to work with Smartphones that perform effortless reworking of their images.

Snapchat’s sky filters substitute starry skies and golden sunsets for any sky in any image; China’s young adult population is driving the massive expansion of new businesses that offer automatic “beautification” whereby preset algorithms enlarge the eyes and smooth the skin texture of every face without even the need for the conscious application of a filter. And there are thousands upon thousands of other digital processes that integrate imagery into the consumer experience in ways that transcend the merely photographic.

Less visible but no less influential are the technologists focused on problem-solving beyond the consumer market; these are the people devising ever more complex applications for facial recognition technologies that can integrate people’s visual identity into business and political processes; who are experimenting with the trace left by the accelerometer in every mobile phone image that identifies the individual hand of the user whose pattern of movement is as distinctive as a fingerprint; these are the people who are integrating all available sensors to create and to interpret the myriad of data that are now integral to the digital image, data that can identify the user, their location, economic potential and behavioural expectations. All this from an image! As we begin to learn about these extraordinary attributes of the digital image it becomes ever more evident that this is not photography as we have known it

As we begin to learn about these extraordinary attributes of the digital image it becomes ever more evident that this is not photography as we have known it.

“I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore” said Judy Garland as a perfectly ordinary day mysteriously became an adventure in weirdness, and the same sense of wonder and confusion besets everyone who ventures from historical awareness to the contemporary realities of modern imagery.


READ Part II of “Truth, the First Casualty”.

 

  • Versions of the expression “Truth, the first casualty” have been used for many years to describe how information is distorted during periods of conflict: what we believe we are seeing may not actually be what happened. Samuel Johnson seems to have the earliest attribution with the sentence, “Among the calamities of war may be jointly numbered the diminution of the love of truth, by the falsehoods which interest dictates and credulity encourages.” (Samuel Johnson: The Idler, 1758). Hiram Johnson (1866-1945) a Republican senator in California might have been the first 20th Century commentator to reference the expression, his actual words being, 'The first casualty, when war comes, is truth', spoken during World War 1


BIOGRAPHY

Stephen Mayes is an Executive Director of the Tim Hetherington Trust and an active board member of www.Catchlight.io. Across twenty-five years he has managed the work and careers of top-level photographers and artists in the diverse areas of art, fashion, photojournalism and commercial photography. As creative director and as CEO he has written successful business plans and reshaped operations for American, Asian and European imaging companies. Stephen acted as secretary to the World Press Photo competition 2004 ~ 2012. Often described as a “futurist” Stephen has broadcast, taught and written extensively about the ethics and practice of photography.

Cover Illustration: Alexey Yurenev / FOTODEMIC