Taking Pictures, At What Consequence?
By Jeff Gamble

Probably not so coincidentally, restrictions in the name of security have become more prevalent in the last three years. Airports have tightened flight procedures, immigration laws have become even more painstaking and thorough, and things as arbitrary as photography have become an overall sensitive issue.

This last spring, in an effort to safeguard the New York transit system against would-be terrorists, the Metropolitan Transit Authority proposed a ban on all photography on trains and buses in the city. The move, it was conveyed, would be in an effort to keep potential reference material out of the hands of wrongdoers. Not surprisingly, the immediate reaction to this move was one of outrage and bewilderment from both photographers and casual picture-takers alike.

Part of the cause for the incomprehension is over obvious issues. Picture taking – especially in the subway – would be very difficult to monitor. With the advent of small, inconspicuous, and easy to use devices such as digital phone and/or pocket cameras, the idea of stopping people from taking photos on the underground trains is almost laughable. But in addition, there is also the question of when simple tourist shots cross the line and become a possible breach of security.

Due in part to the public outcry opposing the proposed measure, the MTA has yet to enforce its proposed new rules. The move may be on hold indefinitely as the transit authority rethinks its policy. Regardless, a move towards tighter security nationwide has shaped a trend toward an overall higher degree of wariness towards picture taking.

In July, a Pakistani man living in Queens, New York, was stopped and questioned in Charlotte when an officer noticed that the man was videotaping downtown buildings. The man, Kamran Akhtar, was subsequently arrested. Authorities reported that the arrest came about when it was discovered that Akhar made false statements regarding his immigration status during questioning about his video recordings.

Akhar’s arrest made national headlines as questions about civil liberties and ethnic profiling arose. Was the move by the officer who stopped him one that thwarted a possible future attack, or was it a case of profiling? Some believe that had the Pakistani man been a European tourist, there never would have been any detainment to begin with.

Whether this case was a case of profiling or not, security restrictions and general suspicion have teamed-up to create a more guarded and cautious post 9/11 public. In the last two weeks alone, I myself have twice been asked by security guards to put my camera away while standing in a public space.

The first occasion took place at the World Trade Center. I was down in the PATH station and about to catch a train, when I decided to take a picture of a giant mural spanning a portion of the newly rebuilt station wall. The image is an impressive billboard-sized bird’s eye view of the post 9/11WTC site, covering maybe five or six hundred square feet. I pulled my camera out of my pocket, and honestly, before I even pushed the power button, a booming voice in the distance behind me called out, “Sir! Excuse me, Sir! No photos please!”

Two security guards emerged from obscurity. I offered no protest, and put my camera away. I couldn’t help but thinking however, that had I really wanted the shot bad enough, I could have returned at any other time and easily snapped the photo on the sly.

The second instance was only a few days later, but this time I fought it. I was in my neighborhood, walking around and taking photos of turn-of-the-century brownstones. (Why? I don’t know. Some people like lighthouses and stuff. I like my neighborhood). At one point I wound up in front of an old factory-turned-apartment building that I used to live in, and on it I saw a gargoyle that I had never noticed before. Again, I pulled out the camera, and again, I heard a voice behind me. It was a security guard working for the property. “Hey buddy,” he yelled. “Let’s put it away! No photos of the building!”

Honestly curious, I turned around and asked him why I couldn’t take a picture of the building. But like a tired parent who has neither strength nor motive, he responded with, “Because I’m security and I said you can’t.”

Irritated, his cop-out answer spurred me on. “I’m just taking a picture of a gargoyle on this building. What’s the problem?”

The guard put his hands on his hips. “The problem is that there’s no photos allowed on the property.”

“Really? Since when? I used to live here. It seems a bit idiotic that somebody can’t take a photo of the apartment building.”

“Well whatever it seems like to you doesn’t matter,” he said. “Now I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

I started walking away as he had asked, but I didn’t shut up. “You could at least give me a good reason why I can’t take the photo. You know I can walk across the street and take all the photos I want! What’s the difference?”

Dismissively he said, “Goodbye, Sir,” and by doing so, effectively ended his end of the conversation.

With the WTC photo incident, I understood and cooperated. But with this exchange, I was really upset. Had the guy given me a reasonable answer to any of my questions, I might have coped with it a bit better. But the feeling I got from his anemic comments was that A.) he was just power tripping, and B.) there really was no real reason why I couldn’t take the photo. It was as if the guy was just more or less caught up in the security-minded vigilance that has become more prevalent everywhere, justified or not. The more I thought about it though, the more disturbed I became. Because the truth was - as with the incident at WTC - if the photo was that important to me, I could get it. Anybody could have. The exterior of a large building in a residential neighborhood? No problem.

This isn’t to say that I find all of the new security measures to be over the top. Within the climate of the new times, beefed up security is a consequence that may well serve a purpose. It’s hard to say for certain that the officer who stopped Kamran Akhtar in Charlotte didn’t help nip something bigger than just photography in the bud. There’s no way to know. But if putting a limit on public photography is a necessary move towards a safer country, it can also be argued that it’s a paranoid one. The truth of the matter is, when somebody really wants to make a mess, they’ll find a way to do it. Keeping people from taking pictures isn’t likely to halt any terrorism.

Behind all of this new security is an irony that very quietly is changing the rules of free expression in the United States. In order to keep the country “free”, people are now strongly urged to be on the lookout for anything suspicious. So we have turned the watchful eye on ourselves. One casualty of this is that people can no longer take photos as “freely” as they may like in public places.

When it’s generally accepted that it’s okay ban picture taking, then one must wonder what would not be considered acceptable. Where and with what does the line in the sand get drawn? And who is to say when it has been crossed? If “freely” taking pictures is a small sacrifice we must make along the way to protect ourselves, then how many sacrifices must cluster before freedom as we know it is has been compromised altogether?

-September, 2004