If we'll worm our way back to where I started, the term "public" has changed its substantive meaning over the years. And we have to acknowledge that. If I took pictures of people on the street and published them 50 years ago, even if I were a famous photographer, it isn't very likely that this picture would come to the subject's attention. And for a hobbyist, it just didn't happen.
Even published works didn't have the reach and accessibility they have today. Today even your random mobile phone snaps could make it onto newspaper front pages around the globe in a matter of hours -- even minutes. Or someone might be able to find them after doing a search even if they were published to what the creator thought was a limited audience.
So I think we have to be aware that although we, in most western countries, have had the right to take pictures of people in public spaces for a bit more than 100 years, some fundamental things have indeed changed. It isn't exactly the same thing anymore and we have to acknowledge that.
However, we also have to acknowledge that there are degrees when it comes to infringing on someone's privacy. Someone shooting pictures in the street doesn't immediately qualify as "surveillance". Yes, the picture may land online and yes, it may turn up when you perform searches. But I think calling it surveillance is bordering on arguing in bad faith.
Surveillance is surveillance.
If we allow the argument that all capture of images or video is surveillance to pass without drawing attention to the use of misleading and loaded wording, we might end up eroding practices that are extremely important. Imagine, for instance, how difficult news coverage of important events would be if we were to ban any and all filming or photographing of people in public spaces without their consent. ()
You might argue that this is taking things to an extreme, but it actually isn't. It is a problem we deal with already. Covering the actions of law enforcement has always been difficult, and just in the last few months in the US, it has gotten a lot worse. A good example is coverage of the Pentagon right now, where only those who have signed away their rights to truthfully cover what they see and hear have access.
Which means all of us are now less informed and less able to develop informed opinions and make informed choices.
Some might argue that "journalists" are a different "class of observer" that is to be afforded more freedom, but this gets us into even more trouble. Again, what happened at the Pentagon represents a very concrete example. You do not want there to be a special class of people who are specially licensed to observe and communicate "the truth" -- as that license can be used to dictate what "truth" they report.
() Filming or photographing newsworthy events isn't without its moral dilemmas. I used to photograph demonstrations because they provide opportunities for capturing visually interesting images of people. The more intense the demonstration, the more interesting images you could get. However, the more polarized and angry a society gets, and as the risk of government overreach increases, the more you run the risk of endangering people taking part in protests by taking their picture. The last few protests I've observed first hand (having my camera with me), I've actually not taken any pictures. Because I didn't feel it would be advisable to publish the images (so I might as well not take any). I'm probably not alone in this. Which is bad news both because we have to fear for people's security, but it also makes protests less effective.
Interestingly, the national broadcasting service in Norway chose to broadcast the Charlie Kirk funeral live. However, there was nearly no coverage of the "No Kings" protest that gathered 7 million people in the US. Most people here may have heard of it, many have not, and there exists exactly zero "iconic" defining images of it. Which means that it is almost as if it didn't happen. There are no memorable images of it in the public consciousness over here. Not one. Only bland pictures of crowds that fail to hold anyone's attention. There were at least half a dozen far more compelling pictures and clips of the Charlie Kirk funeral.
So on one hand you could argue that privacy was, in some sense, respected. On the other hand you could also argue that as an instance of political speech, it was far less effective than one would have assumed when 7 million people take to the streets.
Even published works didn't have the reach and accessibility they have today. Today even your random mobile phone snaps could make it onto newspaper front pages around the globe in a matter of hours -- even minutes. Or someone might be able to find them after doing a search even if they were published to what the creator thought was a limited audience.
So I think we have to be aware that although we, in most western countries, have had the right to take pictures of people in public spaces for a bit more than 100 years, some fundamental things have indeed changed. It isn't exactly the same thing anymore and we have to acknowledge that.
However, we also have to acknowledge that there are degrees when it comes to infringing on someone's privacy. Someone shooting pictures in the street doesn't immediately qualify as "surveillance". Yes, the picture may land online and yes, it may turn up when you perform searches. But I think calling it surveillance is bordering on arguing in bad faith.
Surveillance is surveillance.
If we allow the argument that all capture of images or video is surveillance to pass without drawing attention to the use of misleading and loaded wording, we might end up eroding practices that are extremely important. Imagine, for instance, how difficult news coverage of important events would be if we were to ban any and all filming or photographing of people in public spaces without their consent. ()
You might argue that this is taking things to an extreme, but it actually isn't. It is a problem we deal with already. Covering the actions of law enforcement has always been difficult, and just in the last few months in the US, it has gotten a lot worse. A good example is coverage of the Pentagon right now, where only those who have signed away their rights to truthfully cover what they see and hear have access.
Which means all of us are now less informed and less able to develop informed opinions and make informed choices.
Some might argue that "journalists" are a different "class of observer" that is to be afforded more freedom, but this gets us into even more trouble. Again, what happened at the Pentagon represents a very concrete example. You do not want there to be a special class of people who are specially licensed to observe and communicate "the truth" -- as that license can be used to dictate what "truth" they report.
() Filming or photographing newsworthy events isn't without its moral dilemmas. I used to photograph demonstrations because they provide opportunities for capturing visually interesting images of people. The more intense the demonstration, the more interesting images you could get. However, the more polarized and angry a society gets, and as the risk of government overreach increases, the more you run the risk of endangering people taking part in protests by taking their picture. The last few protests I've observed first hand (having my camera with me), I've actually not taken any pictures. Because I didn't feel it would be advisable to publish the images (so I might as well not take any). I'm probably not alone in this. Which is bad news both because we have to fear for people's security, but it also makes protests less effective.
Interestingly, the national broadcasting service in Norway chose to broadcast the Charlie Kirk funeral live. However, there was nearly no coverage of the "No Kings" protest that gathered 7 million people in the US. Most people here may have heard of it, many have not, and there exists exactly zero "iconic" defining images of it. Which means that it is almost as if it didn't happen. There are no memorable images of it in the public consciousness over here. Not one. Only bland pictures of crowds that fail to hold anyone's attention. There were at least half a dozen far more compelling pictures and clips of the Charlie Kirk funeral.
So on one hand you could argue that privacy was, in some sense, respected. On the other hand you could also argue that as an instance of political speech, it was far less effective than one would have assumed when 7 million people take to the streets.