Dave Stevenson
There have been scary instances of the police abusing photojournalists’ freedom to shoot in a public place, so photographers must take a stand…
Bad news, everyone. No, not the iPhone 4′s antenna, or the possibility that Steve Jobs isn’t actually sending personal replies to every lonely geek with an email account.
It’s worse. You are, to a person, criminals. So am I. And not just ordinary criminals, either. In a way, I have to hand it to us: at least we’re ambitious. No benefit fiddling or petty theft for us – we’re terrorists. Bonus points if you use a tripod.
That, perhaps, is an exaggeration. I’m not sure if the illegality of street photography has actually made it into the law books, so I’m being informed by the actions of the Great British police, who need no more than a glimpse of an interchangeable lens to be provoked into whipping out the handcuffs and wrestling professional – or otherwise – photographers to the ground.
For instance, you might take the instructive experience of professional photojournalists Marc Vallée and Jason Parkinson. In December 2008, they were quite rightly stopped for the dangerously subversive act of taking photos at a protest outside the Greek embassy in West London. Vallée, a photographer, and Parkinson, a filmmaker, had their gear grabbed and pulled, their lenses covered, and were verbally abused before being frogmarched behind police lines. They were treated with a level of contempt usually reserved for Premier League footballers instead of being treated like professionals doing their jobs.
Happily, the Met has had its comeuppance. Our heroes sued the Metropolitan Police, which opted to settle out of court. Both Vallée and Parkinson each received the gratifyingly huge sum of £3500 for being stopped from reporting, simultaneously raising the haunting possibility that it may be significantly more profitable to spend an afternoon being harassed by the police than working.
Sadly, the Met’s strong point appears to be journalist harassment rather than learning lessons, because no sooner than Vallée and Parkinson’s pay-out been announced, than another journalist was complaining of police intervention. This time it was 16-year-old Jules Mattsson, a fresh-faced freelancer who found himself facing the wrong arm of the law at a parade for Army Cadets in Romford.
(That bit about Mattsson being fresh-faced is an assumption, by the way. Since his story broke, he’s asked his photo to remain unpublished in order for him to avoid future harassment.)
Picking the most obscene part of this story is tricky, not least because of the richness and sheer number of possibilities. First, Mattsson is told taking photos of under 16-year-olds is illegal without parental consent, which it isn’t. Then he’s told taking pictures of police officers is an offence, which is also incorrect in virtually all cases. Then he’s told you can’t take pictures of soldiers. Which is also wrong.
To his eternal credit, Mattsson stands his ground and produced a mobile phone, which he used to tape perhaps the most gobsmacking record of police incompetence in recent memory. The record lives at bit.ly/coY8ak, which means you can hear Mattsson being told that he’s a suspected terrorist for yourself. My personal favourite is the bit where Mattsson asks precisely under which law he’s being detained and the police officer replies, ‘we don’t have to have a law’.
One of the most telling incidents in recent times is that of well-known architectural photographer Grant Smith, who was taking a few shots of Christ Church in London, when a security guard popped out to ask why Smith was taking photos and to produce some ID. A fair request, you might think, but Smith, perhaps in an argumentative mood, refused. He was, after all, in a public place and wasn’t breaking any laws. His refusal prompted the arrival of a senior security guard, who demanded ID again and suggested Smith was undertaking ‘hostile reconnaissance’. Then a Police Community Support Officer (sort of two-thirds of a regular police officer) wandered over, to whom Smith also declined to give any personal information. Shortly after, Smith ‘watched in stunned amazement’ as no fewer than three police cars and – get this – a riot van turned up, lights flashing. Not surprisingly in the face of a small army of police officers, Smith capitulated.
The really bad news is that these are only the publicised examples – how many instances can there be of luckless amateurs ordered to pack up their gear and abandon days out in humiliation? Journalists are a cantankerous bunch, used to being told ‘no’ and getting a story by fighting their corner, but it’s hard to imagine the general public, faced with the choice of quiet submission or a confrontation with a flak-jacketed police officer, showing much front.
There are more examples I could use, but I don’t need to illustrate my point. Issues of freedom of the press aside, the use of anti-terrorist legislation to stop and search photographers is as inappropriate as balloons at a funeral. Terrorists are as likely to be caught wandering around London with a tripod and a tilt-shift lens as they are to be caught checking in for a weekend break at Disneyland Paris. And while I’m sure photographic reconnaissance is undoubtedly useful for terrorists, it does seem unlikely they’re going to commission a teenager from Hackney or a world-class fine art photographer for the job.
There are at least signs of photographers getting a fair shake. As the news of Vallée and Parkinson’s pay-out filters through the net, police officers – who, let’s be fair, do an enormously demanding, dangerous and under-appreciated job – will grasp the difference between a photographer and someone up to no good. The latest crop of video-shooting DSLRs makes things easier. Getting manhandled? Flick to video mode and cause a YouTube sensation. Meanwhile, Amateur Photographer magazine helped fly the flag for photographers by cover-mounting a lens cloth emblazoned with a few bons mots for photographers being challenged by the police.
In the meantime, I can only suggest going about your business. Photograph with impunity and continue to photograph the things that make you happy or wealthy, and stop for no-one. And if you do get stopped, tell the world. And tell us, at mailbox@macuser.co.uk.
