VIEWFINDER

Digitally Manipulated Photographs Don't Portray the Truth

COVERING THE WAR in Iraq recently, Los Angeles Times photojournalist Brian Walski demonstrated the dark underside of digital photography's dawning age. Using laptop computer software, he combined two digital images to create a single, visual lie. The original photographs show a British soldier directing Iraqi civilians to take cover. A sharp-eyed editor discovered the composite photograph, and Walski was promptly fired by the Times. Although protesting he intended only to improve the composition with the blended image, Walski had inflicted another blow to photographic integrity.

Photography's evolution from film to digital evokes Charles Dickens' opening from A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.”Digital photography throws open the door to a world of possibilities, making visual communication faster, easier and more fun.

But it also pries open a publishing Pandora's box, especially the manipulation of editorial images that makes people wonder if they can believe what they're seeing. Computer software programs can ethically enhance images or intentionally deceive viewers. In the wrong hands, digital manipulation slips to the dark side. The unscrupulous practices of a few cast a long shadow of suspicion over all, eroding public confidence in published images.

We scoff at the supermarket tabloids for exploiting the technology to concoct alien freaks and raunchy celebrities.And it's standard practice to manipulate advertising and commercial photography, because ads do not pretend to depict reality. Likewise, images altered for artistic purposes pose no ethical problems. Artists have always used technology creatively to expand horizons and change perceptions.

But the rules are different for a magazine like Arizona Highways, which wants to show real places and people. The established code of ethics for publishers is no longer absolute. How much manipulation is too much?

Policies governing the modification of photographs in Arizona Highways are simple and strict. We will not move, add or remove objects in a photograph without notifying readers by labeling it a “photo illustration.” But even then the technology should be used sparingly and judiciously. Rules are especially critical for photojournalism, documentary, wildlife and nature photography. The litmus test must be narrow and stringent when making the decision to modify an editorial photograph.

We confronted this very dilemma while selecting the cover photograph of our June issue on swimming holes. Our top choice for the front cover was a digital image scanned from film showing a swimmer underwater and the forest at creekside above water. We requested the original transparency from the photographer and saw some differences between the digital image and the transparency. Using computer software, the photographer had removed a distracting white tree trunk from the background of the digital image to improve the composition. We insisted on using the unadulterated film image on our cover.

Of course, minor modifications are expected for both film and digital images being prepared for printing. Adjustments to sharpness, contrast, brightness, color and saturation help make each photograph in the magazine match the original transparency and achieve optimal print quality. That's what software programs do best.

But how do photography editors prevent the heavy-handed use of technology to deliberately change what an image communicates?

Image manipulation is not solely digital photography's domain. Photographers have used the printing process to modify film images in the darkroom for years. However, with film an editor can check a photograph's veracity against the original transparency or negative. If the original is taken with a digital camera, will we need a signed affidavit from the photographer swearing an image has not been altered?

Through 80 years of publishing, Arizona Highways' photographs have stood up under scrutiny. During the Cold War in the 1960s, the magazine's beautiful portrayal of Arizona was considered “propaganda” and not allowed into the Soviet Union. Today, when skeptical readers wonder whether we “enhance” our photographs, we're able to hold up the original transparencies, proving that last light really does set sandstone on fire and turn the sky indigo blue before night falls.

So don't worry. Even as we move into the digital age, Arizona Highways will insist that photographs remain both beautiful and truthful. After all, it is the best of times.