The Camera Never Lies: The Partiality of Photographic Evidence.
Hi,
here is my summary and comments on this chapter.
Best wishes, Kim
This chapter of Prosser’s book is concerned with the subjective nature of photographic evidence.
Winston opens with quotes from the French Chamber of Deputies and the French House of Peers, both made in 1839, which hail the invention of the camera as a scientific instrument which will “accelerate the progress of one of the sciences, which most honours the human spirit”, akin to the microscope in terms of the nature of its potential contribution to the scientific method (Arago, cited in Prosser, 1998, p60).
Winston argues that although photography has, since its inception, laid claim on science allowing it to be considered as evidence, it could be argued that the claim is too strong to allow the photograph to be viewed as evidence by itself, given the opportunities for manipulation. He makes reference to the fact that the authenticity of previously authenticated photographs are being brought into question stating that the “illusion” of photographs as evidence of the external world is ending.
Winston discusses the historical attempts to produce legislation to manage the procedures employed in photography and to prepare a code of practice for the manipulation of photographs in particular. However, Winston acknowledges that the technological developments, since the time that the proposal for this bill was suggested by Andrew Bennett in the House of Commons in 1994, have advanced at an unexpectedly exponential rate. Indeed, Bennett had claimed at the time that
“Most people are aware of the old adage ‘the camera never lies’. It seems to me that many people still believe it.....Most people believe pictures, particularly those accompanied by a well-respected voice on the television”,
(Bennett, 1994, cited in Prosser, 1998, pp60-61).
Bennett’s proposals for legislation were fuelled by the notion of photography as a science and as a way of producing evidence of various phenomena, and not purely as a form of art as thought at its inception. The process of photography was virtually unseen and was not considered to be an opportunity for manipulation or human intervention at the time, which meant that the photograph was viewed, uncritically, as evidence. Photographs were seen as a sign of nature where the photographic plate was forced to correspond, point by point, to nature.
However, the limitations of photography’s evidentiary power was not overlooked, as Bennett stated that although people believed the old adage that the camera never lies, they did so being aware that pictures have, in the past, been faked. Winston argues that these contradictory ideas, regarding photography, arise because deliberate manipulation of photographs (certainly at the time that this chapter was written) was outwith the everyday experience of people. Obviously manipulated photographs were the exception that proved the evidentiary rule and although recognising that manipulation is possible, it has been generally considered that, on balance, the chances are that the camera is not lying. This balance of probabilities has shifted over time and photographs which were previously accepted as the truthful representation of reality are re-examined for authenticity.
Winston argues that confidence in the evidential strength of the photograph was misplaced, citing the physical manipulation of objects before the photograph is taken as well as the use of lighting to allude to certain meaning within the images. Similarly, manipulation could be achieved through what is omitted from a photograph as well as what is included, and a distorted reality can be presented through varying lenses, shutter speed, aperture and angles.
Once in the darkroom, further manipulation can take place including processes to correct underexposure and other processes such as bleaching. Winston cites these examples in the context of helping reproduction of the photographs in the press, a manipulation which Life magazine permitted at the time. However, superimposing one image with another and thus producing a composite, was not allowed by the editors of Life, but was later found to have occurred on examining photographs reproduced in the magazine.
Winston argues that it would be as unwise to doubt every image now as it was previously naive to believe them. He argues that many arguments are posited on fine questions of intervention than deliberate fraud, occurring because expectations from photography as evidence, is too high. He argues that, despite the wealth of data it presents, photography at best provides only partial evidence. He cites the anthropological study, The Ax Fight (1975), as an example; titles and voice-overs are required to convey information about the time and location of the video footage. Furthermore, the voice –over and superimposed diagrams appear, at times, to comment on activities differently than how they appear on screen. Winston concludes that the viewer is relying more heavily on the photographer/commentator than would initially appear to be the case and that, as a consequence, it is this commentators interpretations which dictate how the incident is read. However, the photographic record is too ambiguous for his to be the only reading available. Winston argues that the issue with The Ax Fight lies not with Chagnon’s commentary but with his reliance on the scientific heritage of the camera to make the strong claim that it is presenting evidence of the real world; a claim built on inference rather than on objectivity.
Winston concludes that the authenticity of the photograph is complex, arguing that within any one photographic image there is a continuum of authenticity; a complex range of relationships with the world depending in different ways and degrees on the materials and actions within the frame as well as the interventions and manipulations of the photographer. The understanding of these relationships depends on the contextual inferential walks taken by the deconstructing viewer as well as the content of the frame. This means that photographs can only be considered as evidence of the real world in complex and limited ways. For instance, truth can be seen in a photograph by moving the legitimacy of the realist image from representation (the screen or print) where nothing can be guaranteed to reception (by the viewer) where nothing need be guaranteed: a realist position.
Winston argues that the illusion that photographs are automatic or scientific reflections of the world should be discarded and replaced by the notion that photographs provide evidence of the real world in the same way a painting or writing does. The photographer should also be acknowledged as a subjective presence. Winston argues that this is particularly important in light of advances in computer technology which makes photographic manipulation much easier; digitization enables a measure of alteration not previously possible whilst also being virtually undetectable.
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