The moral decisions we make when we use pictures of people in distress

As a picture editor, I source and share imagery which opens up a new insight into the news agenda across the world.

Photos are powerful. A picture can often communicate the emotional truth of a situation much better than a headline can – and because of that, it means that day-to-day judgement calls have to be made on whether the more hard-hitting pictures should be published. Reports on the child casualties of the Syrian war, the devastation caused to lives after the tsunami in Indonesia or a mass shooting, like the recent attack on the synagogue in Pittsburgh, are such instances where tough conversations have to be had on the picture desk.

These type of events inevitably produce very poignant and sometimes shocking photographs. The plus side, of course, are that such images can be used as a vehicle to raise awareness on a subject – the human cost of war, for instance, or the fear of a community in the face of increased violence. By creating galleries to go inside written stories we publish on The Independent site, we are also able to tell a developing story.

Done best, such image galleries help drive social change and create conversations. The Independent’s Refugees Welcome campaign, for instance, began with a single picture: that of a Syrian refugee child named Alan Kurdi, whose body was washed up on a beach after an ill-fated trip across the Mediterranean during the refugee crisis of 2015. It was a horribly difficult image to look at, but we decided to use it to underline the fact that too many people can choose to turn away from the real suffering behind political rhetoric.

In a similar vein, the incredible pictures of the convoy of asylum seekers heading from Central America to the US have dominated the news over the last couple of weeks. President Donald Trump has capitalised on this imagery, insisting that “gang members and some very bad people are mixed into the caravan”.

However, when we look through the pictures provided to us by photographers on the scene, we are able to see they are made up of mostly families in search of a better future. Thousands have been captured on camera walking for days, crossing rivers and sleeping rough on pavements while grasping onto their children.

If we never saw these images, would we be able to comprehend the scale and hardship of this travelling group? Or begin to understand why they felt they needed to leave their homes? The photographs we place on our front page and in our analytical articles helps some way towards illuminating and explaining those thorny political issues, making sure that we never forget the people behind the words we publish.

Yours,

Charlotte Hodges

Picture editor