In the 1930's, at the height of the Great Depression, the Farm Security Administration, a program of the federal government, sent ten photographers out to document America during this time of great struggle and hardship. These photos, many of which were published in local and national newspapers, allowed people around the country to see the realities of this time, much the way Allen's photo in Baltimore gave Americans an understanding of what was happening in that city. Now, the photos from that time allow us a window into our country's history, demonstrating both a difficult time but also the resiliency of the American people.

Dorothea Lange. Young family, penniless, hitchhiking on U.S. Highway 99 in California. The father, 24, and the mother, 17, came from Winston-Salem, N.C. early in 1935, their baby was born in the Imperial Valley in California, where they were working as field laborers. November 1936.

Dorothea Lange. Migrant Mother, 1936

This iconic photograph by Dorothea Lange depicts Florence Thompson, age 32. The widowed mother of 5 children, she was a pea-picker in California. When this photograph was taken, Florence had just sold her family's home for money to buy food and was now living in a tent. When Lange photographed Florence, she told her the photos would never be published. However, soon after taking the photos, Lange sent them to the San Francisco News, who ran them immediately along with a story about how the people in the pea-picker camp were starving. Within days, the camp received 20,000 pounds of food from the federal government. In an interesting twist, by that time Florence Thompson and her family had relocated to another town. The photograph was originally published as Migrant Mother and the woman's identity was not discovered for nearly forty years due to Lange taking poor notes.

Despite this photograph becoming one of the most iconic images of the Great Depression, Florence Thompson was not happy about it being published. She was quoted as saying: "I wish she hadn't taken my picture. I can't get a penny out of it. She didn't ask my name. She said she wouldn't sell the pictures. She said she'd send me a copy. She never did." Lange also did not make money off the image, and it was considered public domain since she was employed by the federal government when she took it. (source))

Assignment: Post your response to one of the following prompts:

Do you think a photograph has the power to make an impact? Can a photo change someone's mind? Give an example.
We learned that Lange shared Florence Thompson's photograph without her permission, however, it also resulted in getting food to large numbers of hungry workers. Is it ethical to share a photograph that was taken without the subject's permission? Does that change if sharing it can cause change or reveal an injustice? Why or why not?
Is there a particular photograph that has made a powerful impact on you? Has a photograph ever caused you to change your mind about a topic or viewpoint? How so?
It's not uncommon for documentary photographers to break the law to capture a powerful image. Is that ok? Or should photographers be more mindful of the law? Why or why not?
What's more important: presenting a photograph that is 100% accurate or presenting a photograph that causes the viewer to think? Why?

1 answer

I find the discussion around ethics in photography, especially in documentary contexts, particularly compelling. The specific case of Dorothea Lange and her iconic photograph "Migrant Mother" brings to light the tension between the rights of individuals being photographed and the potential societal benefits of sharing those images.

In my view, while it is critical to respect the privacy and agency of individuals in photographs, there are circumstances—like those during the Great Depression—where revealing the stark realities of suffering and inequity might outweigh these concerns. Lange's photograph, although taken without the explicit permission of Florence Thompson, resulted in a swift and substantial response to the plight of many hungry families. This case raises questions about the ethical responsibility of photographers: should their primary obligation lie with the individual they are capturing, or with the larger public that can benefit from the awareness those images bring?

If sharing an image can lead to significant social change, it does complicate the ethical landscape. The justification for using a photograph without permission could stem from the greater good it serves—highlighting injustices, prompting governmental aid, or instigating a public conversation about urgent issues. However, it is imperative that this reasoning does not become a blanket excuse for disregarding the voices and needs of individuals, particularly those already marginalized or suffering.

Ethically, a balance must be struck. A photographer ought to consider whether there is informed consent and whether their actions respect the dignity of the subjects involved. At the same time, society benefits from visual narratives that expose truths that might otherwise remain hidden. It becomes a nuanced discussion: while the potential impact of a photograph is essential, so too is the treatment of the people it represents.

In conclusion, while I acknowledge the complexities and sensitivity surrounding consent, I also believe that ethically nuanced decisions need to be made. Documentary photography has the power to incite change, and, in some instances, that may justify the need to share images that expose injustice, provided that the dignity and humanity of the subjects are upheld.