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When Our Words Collide
“Wanna buy a body?” That was the opening line of more than a few phone calls I got from freelance(自由职业 ) photographers when I was a photo editor at U.S. News. Like many in the mainstream press, I wanted to separate the world of photographers into “them”, who trade in picture of bodies or chase celebrities, and “us”, the serious news people. But after 16 years in that role. I came to wonder whether the two worlds were easily distinguishable.
Working in the reputable world of journalism, I assigned photographers to cover other people’s nightmares. I justified invading moments of grief, under the guise(借口) of the reader's right to know. I didn’t ask photographers to trespass(冒犯) or to stalk(跟踪),but I didn’t have to: I worked with pros(同行) who did what others did: talking their way into situations or shooting from behind police lines to get pictures I was after. And I wasn’t alone.
In the aftermath of a car crash or some other hideous incident when ordinary people are hurt or killed, you rarely see photographers pushing past rescue workers to capture the blood and gore(血雨腥风). But you are likely to see the local newspaper and television photographers on the scene - and fast.
How can we justify our behavior? Journalists are taught to separate doing the job from worrying about the consequence of publishing what they record. Repeatedly, they are reminded of a news-business dictum(格言): leave your conscience in the office. You get the picture of the footage: the decision whether to print or air it comes later. A victim may lie bleeding, unconscious, or dead: your job is to record the image. You put away your emotions and document the scene.
We act this way partly because we know that the pictures can have important meaning. Photographs can change deplorable(凄惨的) situations by mobilizing public outrage or increase public understanding.
However, disastrous events often bring out the worst in photographers and photo editors. In the first minutes and hours after a disaster occurs, photo agencies buy pictures. Often an agency buys a picture from a local newspaper or an amateur photographer and put it up for bid by major magazines. The most keenly sought “exclusives” command tens of thousands of dollars through bidding contests.
Many people believe that journalists need to change the way they do things, and it’s our pictures that annoy people the most. Readers may not believe, as we do, that there is a distinction between sober-minded “us” and sleazy(低级庸俗的) “them”. In too many cases, by our choices of images as well as how we get them, we prove our readers right.

When Our Words Collide
“Wanna buy a body?” That was the opening line of more than a few phone calls I got from freelance(自由职业 ) photographers when I was a photo editor at U.S. News. Like many in the mainstream press, I wanted to separate the world of photographers into “them”, who trade in picture of bodies or chase celebrities, and “us”, the serious news people. But after 16 years in that role. I came to wonder whether the two worlds were easily distinguishable.
Working in the reputable world of journalism, I assigned photographers to cover other people’s nightmares. I justified invading moments of grief, under the guise(借口) of the reader's right to know. I didn’t ask photographers to trespass(冒犯) or to stalk(跟踪),but I didn’t have to: I worked with pros(同行) who did what others did: talking their way into situations or shooting from behind police lines to get pictures I was after. And I wasn’t alone.
In the aftermath of a car crash or some other hideous incident when ordinary people are hurt or killed, you rarely see photographers pushing past rescue workers to capture the blood and gore(血雨腥风). But you are likely to see the local newspaper and television photographers on the scene - and fast.
How can we justify our behavior? Journalists are taught to separate doing the job from worrying about the consequence of publishing what they record. Repeatedly, they are reminded of a news-business dictum(格言): leave your conscience in the office. You get the picture of the footage: the decision whether to print or air it comes later. A victim may lie bleeding, unconscious, or dead: your job is to record the image. You put away your emotions and document the scene.
We act this way partly because we know that the pictures can have important meaning. Photographs can change deplorable(凄惨的) situations by mobilizing public outrage or increase public understanding.
However, disastrous events often bring out the worst in photographers and photo editors. In the first minutes and hours after a disaster occurs, photo agencies buy pictures. Often an agency buys a picture from a local newspaper or an amateur photographer and put it up for bid by major magazines. The most keenly sought “exclusives” command tens of thousands of dollars through bidding contests.
Many people believe that journalists need to change the way they do things, and it’s our pictures that annoy people the most. Readers may not believe, as we do, that there is a distinction between sober-minded “us” and sleazy(低级庸俗的) “them”. In too many cases, by our choices of images as well as how we get them, we prove our readers right.

When Our Words Collide
“Wanna buy a body?” That was the opening line of more than a few phone calls I got from freelance(自由职业 ) photographers when I was a photo editor at U.S. News. Like many in the mainstream press, I wanted to separate the world of photographers into “them”, who trade in picture of bodies or chase celebrities, and “us”, the serious news people. But after 16 years in that role. I came to wonder whether the two worlds were easily distinguishable.
Working in the reputable world of journalism, I assigned photographers to cover other people’s nightmares. I justified invading moments of grief, under the guise(借口) of the reader's right to know. I didn’t ask photographers to trespass(冒犯) or to stalk(跟踪),but I didn’t have to: I worked with pros(同行) who did what others did: talking their way into situations or shooting from behind police lines to get pictures I was after. And I wasn’t alone.
In the aftermath of a car crash or some other hideous incident when ordinary people are hurt or killed, you rarely see photographers pushing past rescue workers to capture the blood and gore(血雨腥风). But you are likely to see the local newspaper and television photographers on the scene - and fast.
How can we justify our behavior? Journalists are taught to separate doing the job from worrying about the consequence of publishing what they record. Repeatedly, they are reminded of a news-business dictum(格言): leave your conscience in the office. You get the picture of the footage: the decision whether to print or air it comes later. A victim may lie bleeding, unconscious, or dead: your job is to record the image. You put away your emotions and document the scene.
We act this way partly because we know that the pictures can have important meaning. Photographs can change deplorable(凄惨的) situations by mobilizing public outrage or increase public understanding.
However, disastrous events often bring out the worst in photographers and photo editors. In the first minutes and hours after a disaster occurs, photo agencies buy pictures. Often an agency buys a picture from a local newspaper or an amateur photographer and put it up for bid by major magazines. The most keenly sought “exclusives” command tens of thousands of dollars through bidding contests.
Many people believe that journalists need to change the way they do things, and it’s our pictures that annoy people the most. Readers may not believe, as we do, that there is a distinction between sober-minded “us” and sleazy(低级庸俗的) “them”. In too many cases, by our choices of images as well as how we get them, we prove our readers right.

When Our Words Collide
“Wanna buy a body?” That was the opening line of more than a few phone calls I got from freelance(自由职业 ) photographers when I was a photo editor at U.S. News. Like many in the mainstream press, I wanted to separate the world of photographers into “them”, who trade in picture of bodies or chase celebrities, and “us”, the serious news people. But after 16 years in that role. I came to wonder whether the two worlds were easily distinguishable.
Working in the reputable world of journalism, I assigned photographers to cover other people’s nightmares. I justified invading moments of grief, under the guise(借口) of the reader's right to know. I didn’t ask photographers to trespass(冒犯) or to stalk(跟踪),but I didn’t have to: I worked with pros(同行) who did what others did: talking their way into situations or shooting from behind police lines to get pictures I was after. And I wasn’t alone.
In the aftermath of a car crash or some other hideous incident when ordinary people are hurt or killed, you rarely see photographers pushing past rescue workers to capture the blood and gore(血雨腥风). But you are likely to see the local newspaper and television photographers on the scene - and fast.
How can we justify our behavior? Journalists are taught to separate doing the job from worrying about the consequence of publishing what they record. Repeatedly, they are reminded of a news-business dictum(格言): leave your conscience in the office. You get the picture of the footage: the decision whether to print or air it comes later. A victim may lie bleeding, unconscious, or dead: your job is to record the image. You put away your emotions and document the scene.
We act this way partly because we know that the pictures can have important meaning. Photographs can change deplorable(凄惨的) situations by mobilizing public outrage or increase public understanding.
However, disastrous events often bring out the worst in photographers and photo editors. In the first minutes and hours after a disaster occurs, photo agencies buy pictures. Often an agency buys a picture from a local newspaper or an amateur photographer and put it up for bid by major magazines. The most keenly sought “exclusives” command tens of thousands of dollars through bidding contests.
Many people believe that journalists need to change the way they do things, and it’s our pictures that annoy people the most. Readers may not believe, as we do, that there is a distinction between sober-minded “us” and sleazy(低级庸俗的) “them”. In too many cases, by our choices of images as well as how we get them, we prove our readers right.

When Our Words Collide
“Wanna buy a body?” That was the opening line of more than a few phone calls I got from freelance(自由职业 ) photographers when I was a photo editor at U.S. News. Like many in the mainstream press, I wanted to separate the world of photographers into “them”, who trade in picture of bodies or chase celebrities, and “us”, the serious news people. But after 16 years in that role. I came to wonder whether the two worlds were easily distinguishable.
Working in the reputable world of journalism, I assigned photographers to cover other people’s nightmares. I justified invading moments of grief, under the guise(借口) of the reader's right to know. I didn’t ask photographers to trespass(冒犯) or to stalk(跟踪),but I didn’t have to: I worked with pros(同行) who did what others did: talking their way into situations or shooting from behind police lines to get pictures I was after. And I wasn’t alone.
In the aftermath of a car crash or some other hideous incident when ordinary people are hurt or killed, you rarely see photographers pushing past rescue workers to capture the blood and gore(血雨腥风). But you are likely to see the local newspaper and television photographers on the scene - and fast.
How can we justify our behavior? Journalists are taught to separate doing the job from worrying about the consequence of publishing what they record. Repeatedly, they are reminded of a news-business dictum(格言): leave your conscience in the office. You get the picture of the footage: the decision whether to print or air it comes later. A victim may lie bleeding, unconscious, or dead: your job is to record the image. You put away your emotions and document the scene.
We act this way partly because we know that the pictures can have important meaning. Photographs can change deplorable(凄惨的) situations by mobilizing public outrage or increase public understanding.
However, disastrous events often bring out the worst in photographers and photo editors. In the first minutes and hours after a disaster occurs, photo agencies buy pictures. Often an agency buys a picture from a local newspaper or an amateur photographer and put it up for bid by major magazines. The most keenly sought “exclusives” command tens of thousands of dollars through bidding contests.
Many people believe that journalists need to change the way they do things, and it’s our pictures that annoy people the most. Readers may not believe, as we do, that there is a distinction between sober-minded “us” and sleazy(低级庸俗的) “them”. In too many cases, by our choices of images as well as how we get them, we prove our readers right.

When Our Words Collide
“Wanna buy a body?” That was the opening line of more than a few phone calls I got from freelance(自由职业 ) photographers when I was a photo editor at U.S. News. Like many in the mainstream press, I wanted to separate the world of photographers into “them”, who trade in picture of bodies or chase celebrities, and “us”, the serious news people. But after 16 years in that role. I came to wonder whether the two worlds were easily distinguishable.
Working in the reputable world of journalism, I assigned photographers to cover other people’s nightmares. I justified invading moments of grief, under the guise(借口) of the reader's right to know. I didn’t ask photographers to trespass(冒犯) or to stalk(跟踪),but I didn’t have to: I worked with pros(同行) who did what others did: talking their way into situations or shooting from behind police lines to get pictures I was after. And I wasn’t alone.
In the aftermath of a car crash or some other hideous incident when ordinary people are hurt or killed, you rarely see photographers pushing past rescue workers to capture the blood and gore(血雨腥风). But you are likely to see the local newspaper and television photographers on the scene - and fast.
How can we justify our behavior? Journalists are taught to separate doing the job from worrying about the consequence of publishing what they record. Repeatedly, they are reminded of a news-business dictum(格言): leave your conscience in the office. You get the picture of the footage: the decision whether to print or air it comes later. A victim may lie bleeding, unconscious, or dead: your job is to record the image. You put away your emotions and document the scene.
We act this way partly because we know that the pictures can have important meaning. Photographs can change deplorable(凄惨的) situations by mobilizing public outrage or increase public understanding.
However, disastrous events often bring out the worst in photographers and photo editors. In the first minutes and hours after a disaster occurs, photo agencies buy pictures. Often an agency buys a picture from a local newspaper or an amateur photographer and put it up for bid by major magazines. The most keenly sought “exclusives” command tens of thousands of dollars through bidding contests.
Many people believe that journalists need to change the way they do things, and it’s our pictures that annoy people the most. Readers may not believe, as we do, that there is a distinction between sober-minded “us” and sleazy(低级庸俗的) “them”. In too many cases, by our choices of images as well as how we get them, we prove our readers right.

When Our Words Collide
“Wanna buy a body?” That was the opening line of more than a few phone calls I got from freelance(自由职业 ) photographers when I was a photo editor at U.S. News. Like many in the mainstream press, I wanted to separate the world of photographers into “them”, who trade in picture of bodies or chase celebrities, and “us”, the serious news people. But after 16 years in that role. I came to wonder whether the two worlds were easily distinguishable.
Working in the reputable world of journalism, I assigned photographers to cover other people’s nightmares. I justified invading moments of grief, under the guise(借口) of the reader's right to know. I didn’t ask photographers to trespass(冒犯) or to stalk(跟踪),but I didn’t have to: I worked with pros(同行) who did what others did: talking their way into situations or shooting from behind police lines to get pictures I was after. And I wasn’t alone.
In the aftermath of a car crash or some other hideous incident when ordinary people are hurt or killed, you rarely see photographers pushing past rescue workers to capture the blood and gore(血雨腥风). But you are likely to see the local newspaper and television photographers on the scene - and fast.
How can we justify our behavior? Journalists are taught to separate doing the job from worrying about the consequence of publishing what they record. Repeatedly, they are reminded of a news-business dictum(格言): leave your conscience in the office. You get the picture of the footage: the decision whether to print or air it comes later. A victim may lie bleeding, unconscious, or dead: your job is to record the image. You put away your emotions and document the scene.
We act this way partly because we know that the pictures can have important meaning. Photographs can change deplorable(凄惨的) situations by mobilizing public outrage or increase public understanding.
However, disastrous events often bring out the worst in photographers and photo editors. In the first minutes and hours after a disaster occurs, photo agencies buy pictures. Often an agency buys a picture from a local newspaper or an amateur photographer and put it up for bid by major magazines. The most keenly sought “exclusives” command tens of thousands of dollars through bidding contests.
Many people believe that journalists need to change the way they do things, and it’s our pictures that annoy people the most. Readers may not believe, as we do, that there is a distinction between sober-minded “us” and sleazy(低级庸俗的) “them”. In too many cases, by our choices of images as well as how we get them, we prove our readers right.