The Wheelie-Bin of History

Library picture from an original transparency, posed by a model (1990s)

A recent clear-out of my office has revealed half-forgotten relics charting the history of technological change that has transformed photographic publishing in the 20 years since I first set up my current workspace. Quite a few have survived the early spring clean: the shelves stacked with boxes of black and white contact sheets (necessary for locating valued old negatives), 200 boxes of 10”x8” prints (unnecessary, but they took so much time to make!), my one-time darkroom through a door at the far end (in which an enlarger still has pride of place, but the blackout is long gone), two or three film cameras I couldn't bring myself to part with, and a large cardboard box containing thousands of slides returned from a now defunct picture library.

But much has been consigned to the recycling wheelie-bin, all redolent of a very different era: price lists from courier companies and colour processing labs, Kodak data sheets, a variety out-of-date printed directories, records of outgoing prints and original transparencies, and polite letters from picture researchers happy to pay NUJ recommended rates. A pile of CDs, used to distribute library pictures to publishers in the early years of digitisation, before photo library websites became commonplace, met a more violent and less ecological end: I smashed them with a hammer and sent them for land-fill. Regrettable but necessary.

It was the redundant digital hardware that I found most alarming.  The clear-out was prompted by the arrival of faster and more capacious storage and a new computer requiring more desk space. Three new 4TB drives have replaced a collection of 15 smaller ones - some as small as 80GB. The redundant discs have now joined the enlarger in my redundant darkroom.

Yet none of my IT equipment has worn out - almost all of it looks as good as it did when I first bought it. It's just become obsolete: too slow, too small, or no longer upgradable to the latest OS. My eight-year-old Mac Pro looks immaculate, but can't run the current version of Lightroom or Final Cut Pro, and its stylish carcase under my desk provokes some uneasy thoughts.

The care of film negatives and transparencies was always an issue for analogue photographers (the only sort there were until not very long ago). Unlike digital images, they represent the only 'original' of each picture, vulnerable to fire, flooding and various other potential disasters. Digital files, on the other hand, can be copied ad infinitum without losing quality. If you're into immortality, they seem a much better bet. But what if they too become obsolete? Negatives are very old technology, but they are still accessible. They can even be seen with the naked eye. What if the software that reads your digital files is no longer available? Or you can't afford a new computer, or your annual subscription to Adobe's Creative Cloud? Or someone has hacked their servers and disabled the activation on every copy of Photoshop ever sold? Or a solar storm wipes every hard disc in the known universe? 

Now we are all vulnerable to an instant clear-out. And a wheelie-bin won't be necessary.

The Siege of Silicon Roundabout

  Demolition site, Hoxton     

The Old Street roundabout is surrounded. The wrecking crews are converging from all directions. The traffic island whose geometry lends its name to the London home of tech start-ups, skinny jeans and wall-to-wall wall-art, is under siege. The decaying Victorian buildings which have incubated the successes and failures of the new information economy over the last few years are being torn down to make space for gleaming new steel and glass towers.

Silicon Roundabout was always a convenient, but somewhat misleading moniker. There are tech start-ups all over the city, with a significant number already housed in steel and glass at Canary Wharf – a very different social space from the coffee houses and boutiques of Hoxton and Shoreditch. Nevertheless the area does have a distinctive buzz, which it would be a shame to lose. According to one local estate agent, much of the new residential property is being bought off-plan by overseas investors looking for a safe haven for their cash, and may well remain empty once completed. And the office blocks creeping up Bishopsgate are mostly devoted to corporate finance and its besuited offshoots. Will the rather appealing well-heeled bohemian vibe survive the London property boom, or will the relentless march of investment capital clear yet another piece of the capital of lowlifes with less than six figure incomes?

 

  Demolition site, Hoxton                                        Private apartment block, City Road

Thanks to Steve Nathan for the estate agent research.  More pictures here.

Citizens, not customers

Pancras Square, 2014

Last month Camden Council took possession of a new office building containing a “state-of-the-art and sustainable” leisure centre, a relocated library, and other welcome community facilities. The council estimates its 14 floor tower, the construction of which was financed by selling off ageing and unwanted parts of its property portfolio, will save it between £2.5 million and £4.5 million a year in running costs.

5 Pancras Square sits in a corner of a major new development that has transformed the once notorious area behind King's Cross station. Ed Smith, writing in the New Statesman, described the change as one “from derelict wasteland to caffeinated utopia”. The place is buzzing with local office workers, passing travellers, and students from Central St.Martins art school in neighbouring Granary Square, built on part of the long disused goods yard. There's even a canal running through the middle to add that apparently essential waterside appeal.

I well remember the “derelict wasteland”. Twenty-five years ago I spent several weeks photographing it, and some of the people who lived and worked in it, for an exhibition. I would hesitate to now call it a “utopia”, but it is undoubtedly much improved.

Culross Buildings, 1989

So what's not to like? Not a lot. I just have a slight resentment at being regarded by my elected local authority as a 'customer' (top), rather than a 'citizen' (even if that is my status in the rest of the largely privately owned and managed development). And a nagging feeling that the rough sleepers, short-life tenants and small businesses that I photographed back then are not among those who have benefited from all this. More pictures of the 'derelict wasteland' here.  Caffeinated utopia to follow.

Young homeless man, Pancras Road, 1989

Access All Areas?

As a photojournalist and documentary photographer I am instinctively opposed to any restrictions placed on my ability to make pictures wherever I choose. So I should be delighted that the National Gallery has lifted its ban on the use of cameras and smartphones – but I'm not entirely.

Nor are the gallery attendants, who have been landed with a Sisyphean task. The change of policy, which came into force this month, was prompted by the problem of distinguishing between visitors legitimately using their phones to research paintings via the gallery's free wifi network, and deviants taking photos of its precious artworks. However, using a flash is still forbidden, and as most users of smartphones and compact cameras leave them set on automatic, flashes are firing off left, right and centre. The attendants are continually forced to intervene.

Although the gallery houses thousands of wonderful paintings by world-famous artists, one single work, Van Gogh's Sunflowers (above), attracts the overwhelming majority of snappers. It is an extraordinary spectacle. Many never actually see the painting itself, so intent are they on framing its image on their screen. Most irritating of all are those whose must-have picture is a friend or family member posing in front of the canvas. Clearly all this has more to do with Facebook than art appreciation.

Fortunately, with Sunflowers hanging in a room conveniently close to the front entrance and taking most of the heat, the rest of the national collection remains relatively unaffected.  Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, Canaletto – even Seurat (above) and Monet – do not attract more than the occasional smartphone or iPad.

So maybe I needn't countermand my instinctive desire for access all areas. However, I do recognise the trouble it is causing gallery staff – still, by the way, woefully underpaid and fighting a campaign for the London Living Wage (below). My solution would be to take Van Gogh's over-popular work (or a reasonable copy) and nail it to an outside wall, where the crowds could photograph it, themselves, their friends and family, without bothering anyone, including those who visit galleries to look at paintings. More pictures here.

 London Living Wage protest outside the National Gallery, 2010

Photography in Hungary: The Law is an Ass

Back in March there was a flurry of comment after a new civil code came into force in Hungary which made it illegal to photograph someone without their express permission. In theory, the law makes photography in a public place virtually impossible, so before a trip to Budapest earlier this month I called the Hungarian Embassy in London to check it out.

The first person I spoke to was completely unaware of the issue, but passed me on to a more knowledgeable colleague, who laughed off my concerns and told me there would be no problem taking photos wherever I liked. I found this reassurance only mildly convincing. The law is quite clear, and a pre-existing ruling, that police can only appear in a published photograph if their faces are pixellated beyond recognition, is strictly adhered to.

Commenting on the new civil code in The Guardian, Márton Magócsi, senior photo editor at news website Origo, said at the time: "having to ask for permission beforehand is quite unrealistic in any reportage situation”. He also pointed to the danger that private security guards or the police could use the law to block access to reporters and photojournalists. Much of the work exhibited in Budapest's recently opened Robert Capa Contemporary Photography Centre would not exist if such a law had been in place and adhered to. Likewise the work of the renowned Hungarian photographer and Magnum co-founder himself.

Nevertheless, I wandered around the capital with my cameras without incident and, on a visit to the Szechenyi thermal baths (above) was astonished to see a TV crew filming freely around the pools and many of the punters strolling about taking pictures without interference. That's not something that would happen in the UK today – it's been a long time since photographers here were regarded as a benign, even welcome, presence. Despite the civil code, the UK's obsessional association of photography with terrorists and paedophiles does not seem to have taken hold in Hungary, and photographing in the streets of Budapest felt easier than in those of my own capital city.

However, as long as it remains on the statute book the law poses a very real threat to press freedom and to the rights of ordinary citizens. Even if largely ignored in practice, it should not be allowed to stand.

A bar overlooking the Hungarian Parliament building

New Soapboxes For Old

Yesterday's Royal Parks press launch of revamped landscaping at Speakers' Corner offered a refreshing spectacle: a senior politician (Secretary of State for Culture Media and Sport Sajid Javid MP) attempting to face down two experienced Hyde Park regulars angry at a lack of consultation over changes to their Sunday afternoon meeting place. He didn't stand a chance.

Face-to-face argument, rarely possible between governors and governed, is what the place is about, and this one took place in front of the TV cameras. Tony Allen and Heiko Khoo, who have been speaking in the park since 1978 and 1986 respectively, heckled Javid mercilessly through out his brief speech, and then confronted Royal Parks senior management (above). The Hyde Park speakers are a hard bunch to organise, but there is resentment at the noise from the rock gigs held throughout the summer on the nearby field, the cycle lane that runs through the concrete area on which speakers and crowds currently gather, the lack of toilets, and the failure to screen out traffic noise from the Marble Arch roundabout.

A small temporary exhibition, visible as the backdrop to the bespoke wooden soapboxes from which Royal Parks CEO Linda Lennon CBE and the Secretary of State addressed the assembled media (below), included material from the Sounds From The Park archive, and pictures from my Speakers Cornered project, so as well as being hugely entertained, I got to photograph my own photographs in the place they were originally taken.

What Goes Up Might Come Down

As high-rise blocks are demolished on estates in South Kilburn and Barking (below), 2818 new homes in the skyscrapers of the former London 2012 Olympic Athletes' Village in Stratford are awaiting their first occupants (above).

The difference between those coming down and those going up is not so much architectural, as proprietorial. Private housing is replacing public: 1439 of the apartments in East Village, as it is now known, are being offering for private rent by Get Living London, a joint venture between the Qatari sovereign wealth fund and property company Delancey. The remainder are 'affordable' homes for sale, shared-ownership, or rent by Triathlon Homes, a public-private partnership.

Only time will tell whether ownership status is more important than architecture and the strength, or otherwise, of the local economy – or whether East Village is destined to become a densely packed, down-at-heel, buy-to-let opportunity earmarked for a future wrecker's ball.  More pictures here.

Slum Clearance Revisited

Earlier this month Brent Council started demolition of two 1960s tower blocks on South Kilburn Estate, part of a £66.5 million redevelopment scheme that will see them replaced by 229 low-rise apartments for sale and rent.

One of the 18 storey towers, Fielding House (above), used to fill the view from the window of a flat I once rented on the opposite side of Kilburn Park Road. Back in 1975 the towers were a recent addition to the NW6 landscape, and the Victorian terrace whose first floor I part-occupied was scheduled for compulsory purchase and demolition by the Greater London Council.

Calling it a flat is being kind. It wasn't self-contained, the toilet was shared with the tenant upstairs, it had no bathroom, and the only running water was a cold tap above a Butler sink on the landing. At the time such conditions were commonplace, particularly in the private rented sector, and the towers were part of a slum clearance programme designed to sweep them away and provide good quality public housing for all who needed it.

Almost forty years on, the Victorian terrace is still standing, and it is the towers that are coming down. In a complete reversal, not only is high-rise making way for low (the 229 new South Kilburn apartments will be in buildings with traditional mansion block facades and six or seven floors), but public sector housing is making way for private: 126 of them will be sold off, and only 103 will be let. 'Private good, public bad' is the mantra now.  More pictures here.

Tenant in an unfit kitchen, Kilburn Park Road, 1982

Market Failures

The Guardian's exposé of the extraordinary state of 'Billionaire's Row' – The Bishops Avenue in north London – is yet another reminder of just how dysfunctional the UK housing market has become. Mansions worth together around £350 million are lying empty (above), many decaying into serious dereliction, whilst the government's 'bedroom tax' is forcing large numbers of those at the other end of the 'property ladder' to quit the capital, often leaving behind family, friends, schools and job opportunities.

Boris Johnson's answer? To charge owners of empty properties worth over £2 million a 50% Council Tax surcharge. Or maybe 150%. The Mayor isn't very good on detail. That should really hit the owners hard. The rate for the top Council Tax band in Barnet is £2832.40, so the surcharge would be either £1416.20, or £4248.60, depending on what he means. One of the Bishops Avenue mansions, Dryades, until recently the property of the Pakistan Minister of Privatisation (clearly a post with a generous salary), was bought for £12 million in 2007 and, according to the Guardian, is currently believed to be worth £30 million. That's a profit of £18 million in seven years, or just over £2.5 million a year. A few thousand pounds of Council Tax isn't going to make much of a dent in that.

Interventions by this and previous governments aimed at addressing failures at the opposite end of the market have been no better. The other streets where boarded-up houses lie empty, and bulldozed vacant lots stand unattended, are the result of the Housing Market Renewal Pathfinder programme in Oldham (below), Liverpool and several other northern cities, started by Labour and prematurely shutdown by the coalition. Both bad decisions.

The abysmal record of government interventions at both ends of the property market highlights the failure of market-based solutions to a problem that requires social and economic planning, not blind faith in the beneficence of laissez-faire profiteering. More pictures here.

On The Road

The mostly Latin-American cleaning, security and maintenance workers employed by Cofely GDF-Suez at London University have already succeeded in their battle for the London Living Wage. They are all members of the independent IWGB union, which this week called a three day strike to demand union recognition and improved conditions of employment, and in protest at job losses. On Tuesday the union's 3 Cosas (Three Things) Campaign took to the streets of Bloomsbury in an open-top bus (above) before moving on to a rally outside Parliament (below), and unannounced visits to fellow workers at the Royal Opera House, and to the Cofely GDF-Suez Islington office. It feels like a campaign that is going to win.  More pictures here.

Video on Demand

The Great Western Railway Band performs on platform 9 of Paddington Station at 7.30pm every Friday between Easter and Christmas. It's not the most obvious venue for a concert – at times the music is almost drowned out by the collective growl of engines travelling in and out of the great glass-roofed train shed - but lifting the spirits in adverse circumstances is just what marching bands are for, and the musicians play on regardless.

This short video was made for the inpaddington YouTube channel, with a brief to capture the spirit of the band and the life of the station in which it performs. It was great fun to make, and also a reminder of just how much the publishing and PR world has changed over the last few years. Before the all-encompassing rise of the web, a commission like this would more likely have been for a set of stills for use across a range of print products. Fortunately the demand for moving pictures has been matched by the ability of our once-still DSLR cameras to make them, albeit with significant additional requirements for audio equipment, editing software, beefed-up processing power - and some serious new skill acquisition.

Sounds from The Park

Sounds from the Park is about to launch a unique archive documenting the post-war history of Speakers' Corner.

The project, a collaboration between oral history group On the Record and the Bishopsgate Institute, was funded by the National Heritage Lottery Fund, and over the last year has collected oral testimony, historic and contemporary photographs, recordings and other material from orators, hecklers and other regular frequenters of the public speaking area in Hyde Park.

The formal opening of the archive, an exhibition and an accompanying booklet, includes a free lunch and contributions from the archivists and other participants.

I have a vested interest:  I've been on the project steering committee for the duration, and the collection includes around 150 of the photographs I have taken at Speakers' Corner since 1977, a number of which feature in the exhibition.  The experience has greatly enriched my own archive, enabling me to put names and stories to faces in photographs shot more than 30 years ago.  I feel a book coming on.

You can book a free place at the launch on 020 7392 9200.
It runs from 1pm - 5pm on Saturday 7th December, in The Great Hall, Bishopsgate Institute, 230 Bishopsgate, London EC2M 4QH.  The exhibition continues until 30 April 2014.  More details here.

Working Lives

This interview with Anne-Marie Sanderson, chief photographer at North London & Herts News, was made for the Working Lives project being developed by the NUJ London Photographers Branch (LPB). It's the first in a planned series of videos exploring the varied working lives of its members. 

The project grew out of a discussion at a branch meeting last year, at the height of the furore surrounding the Hacked Off campaign and the Leveson enquiry. Photographers of all kinds were being maligned as a result of allegations about the behaviour of a very small number of so-called paparazzi, and it seemed clear that the public at large had little idea of the great variety of work that photojournalists do. The aim of the project is to show, to the public at large, the range of our work, our motivations for doing it, and the problems we sometimes face. 

Anne-Marie is unusual in being a staff photographer. The vast majority of LPB members are freelancers, and the branch plans to follow this pilot with interviews that cover the wide range of specialisms and working practices that they are engaged in. This first piece offers an insight into the complexity and value of local newspaper photography, on how it is changing as more and more of it moves online, and the crucial support provided by the union when disputes arise. 

The venue for the interview was pleasingly unexpected: a delightful boutique cafe on Platform One of Enfield Chase station, generously opened up for us on a Sunday morning by Karen Mercer, its creator.  Recording was interrupted a couple of times when a train came thundering through my headphones, but they were infrequent enough to not be a serious problem.  The armchairs were very comfortable and the coffee was great,  If you're ever in the area, My Coffee Stop is a five star recommendation.

Special Offer

Having fallen for a special offer I couldn't refuse, I have been walking the streets of London with a Fuji XPro-1, and a very fine 35mm/f1.4 lens, to see how they behave. Making pictures is not really about camera technology - unless it gets in the way or, as in this case, opens up new possibilities.  I can walk all day with this small, light and discreet camera, and an X100 (its fixed lens predecessor), something I can't do as comfortably or as inconspicuously with a couple of hefty DSLRs. Neither camera is as quick or as versatile as a DSLR, but for slow-paced documentary work they're wonderful new tools, and a pleasure to use. I await delivery of a free 18mm/f2.0 lens from Fuji - the bit that made the special offer irresistible.

(above: Cricklewood; below: Whitechapel)

The Last Refuge

Samuel Johnson famously declared that patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel, but 'national security' is also a popular destination these days. Home Secretary Theresa May has been spending a lot of time there recently so, as I was passing one of its northern outposts last week, I called in to take a look.

The radomes (radar domes) of Menwith Hill RAF base in Yorkshire, the largest secret intelligence-gathering system outside the USA, are plainly visible from miles around. But at close quarters the installation, run by the US National Security Agency (NSA), is not very welcoming. Thickly planted bushes block the view through the high wire mesh fence that surrounds it, and CCTV cameras monitor every entrance. Although I was doing nothing illegal, I was surprised not to be apprehended as I poked my lens through the shrubbery, and kept an eye on my rear view mirror as I drove away.

As we have now learned via the Guardian and elsewhere, the facility is part of the global network that spies on our emails, telephone calls, web searches and browsing history, and anything else we do with radio waves or online. We are told it is there to make us safe and secure, and that if we haven't done anything wrong, we haven't got anything to worry about. But that's not how David Miranda felt after being held at Heathrow Airport for nine hours on Sunday, and this piece of the 'national security' infrastructure is also far from benign. Despite the assurances, it's not a good refuge for anyone, even scoundrels. Miranda was working for the Guardian when he was detained, and his phone, laptop and USB sticks (all seized by the police) should have been treated as 'special procedure' material, protected under laws designed to ensure press freedom. The Home Secretary needs to come out from her 'national security' hidey-hole and give some straight answers to the very straightforward questions being asked of her.

Money Down the Train

Little Missenden, Buckinghamshire

The public consultation on phase two of the HS2 high speed rail line began this week, amid signs that the cross-party consensus in favour of the project may be starting to break down. Lord Mandelson called it “an expensive mistake”, and Tom Harris MP, rail minister in the Labour government that initiated the scheme, admitted the original cost calculations were done “on the back of a fag packet”.

There seems to be a new development in the HS2 saga almost every other day. In recent weeks the estimated cost has risen from £32 billion to £53 billion, Margaret Hodge, chair of the Public Accounts Committee, has called the government's business case “farcical”, and HS2 Ltd, the government-owned company charged with building the new railway, has apparently looked again at a previously rejected alternative proposal for the Euston terminal which would avoid the need to demolish hundreds of homes in the Regent’s Park Estate (below). If accepted, it would be the third design for the station in as many months, and a major rethink very likely to impact on the newly revised cost estimate.

Outside Westminster, apart from some politicians and business leaders in Birmingham, Manchester and Leeds, there is massive opposition to the scheme from action groups and local authorities along the whole of the route from Euston, through the West Midlands, and northwards. If the political consensus does crumble, the scheme will probably stagger on until the next election, prolonging the blight and uncertainty faced by residents and businesses close to the new line – but what happens then is anybody's guess.

Several blocks on Camden Council's Regent's Park Estate and one of the three towers on Ampthill Square Estate are threatened with demolition

More pictures here
New views of Regent's Park Estate here 

Inside Housing feature here 

Why Should There Be Losers?

Yesterday's Queen's Speech confirmed the government's intention to proceed with the High Speed 2 Euston to Birmingham rail line, despite opposition from affected residents and businesses along its route, and unanswered questions about many of the details.

The transport case, the economic benefit, the cost, the precise route, and the location of new stations are all in dispute. Only last month, the publication of revised plans for the Euston terminal did nothing to meet the objections of the local council, nor mitigate the fears of residents in the surrounding area.

HS2 Ltd, the government-owned company charged with developing the new line, scrapped a plan to demolish and rebuild Euston station, and replaced it with plans for what Sarah Hayward, Leader of Camden Council, described as “a shed being bolted on to an existing lean-to”. The new proposal significantly reduces the regeneration and development potential of the scheme. The original allowed for multi-storey blocks of offices and apartments to be built on top of the station - presumably that can't be done on a shed roof.

Hundreds of tenants living in blocks on the nearby Regent's Park Estate scheduled for demolition still have no indication as to where they might be rehoused. Many fear they will be offered alternative accommodation outside the borough, far from family, friends and workplaces.

Tenants, leaseholders and businesses in the streets immediately to the west of the station face a different threat. The roads have been 'safeguarded' – marked out as an access route within the construction zone – but the houses, shops and restaurants along them have not. Although some are no more than three or four metres from the likely construction site boundary, under current arrangements they stand to receive nothing for 10 years of disruption and blight. In rural areas outside the M25, residents within 120 metres of the new line will receive the full, unblighted market value of their property, and those within 60 metres an additional 10% bonus plus moving costs.

Why the unequal treatment? That's what the High Court wanted to know when it upheld a legal challenge to HS2's compensation consultation in March. Conspiracy theorists might point to the political colour of the wards around the station (red), and that of the rolling Home County landscapes further north (blue). The process will now have to be re-run.

Irrespective of the wisdom of the whole enterprise, the treatment of those directly affected seems grossly unfair. There will, of course, be beneficiaries – you can't spend £34 billion without somebody benefitting – but why should there be losers?

Above: Kathleen Ullah at her front door a few metres from the planned Euston construction site; below: Buckinghamshire. More pictures here.

Flickr Commons

                                                      Photo courtesy of Tyne and Wear Archives and Museums

No, it's not one of mine. It's part of Criminal Faces of North Shields, a striking set of portraits held by Tyne & Wear Archives and Museums.The image is one of almost a quarter of a million on the Flickr Commons site, set up in 2008 to enable cultural heritage institutions to share photographs that have no known copyright restrictions. You can read more in an article I wrote for the current issue of the British Journal of Photography to mark the site's fifth anniversary.

The Value of a Photograph

Last week I wrote a brief post about an online Guardian piece by Rowenna Davies reflecting on a 2003 school student protest in which she took part. There's a little back-story, about the photo that accompanies it, that is also worth telling.

The Hand Up For Peace (HUFP) article originally appeared with a generic demonstration photo from Getty Images. In this context, the shot was a space-filler: it didn't add any new information, and was only marginally related to the text. The picture of mine that replaced it later the same day was one of a set I had taken of the HUFP campaign. Why the delay?

The Guardian pays the writers who contribute to its Comment Is Free pages - not a lot, but enough to make the effort worthwhile. But when they called on the morning of publication to ask for one of my photos, I was told they had “no budget for pictures”. I wasn't prepared to collude with the implication that photographs are worthless, and declined the invitation to send one in for free. Hence the image from Getty, with whom, presumably, the publisher has some form of bulk-buy, eat-as-much-as-you-can-stomach deal.

However, I have known Rowenna a long time. She is a friend of my daughter, and both were very active in the HUFP campaign, which I supported. She also recognised the value of having the right photograph to complement what she had written. So when she phoned me to offer – very honourably - to pay for the photo herself, I had to concede defeat and send one in. I didn't take the money. I don't normally turn down offers of payment but, to be meaningful, this one had to come from the publisher. Why does the Guardian (along with so many others) appear to hold photography in such low regard? Why wasn't there a budget for such a significant element of the story?

It seems that the present-day hyper-abundance of digital imagery - much of it available at little or no cost - has desensitised editors and back-room bean-counters to the power and purpose of photojournalism. If quality is no longer a concern, with newspapers under severe pressure from the web, and many associated web-based ventures failing to generate adequate revenues, why pay for the right photo when you can fill the space for nothing?

The HUFP pictures were some of the last I shot on film. Quite apart from the thought and effort I put into taking them, in order for the Guardian to find and use them, I also had to process the films, scan the negatives, optimise the digital files, caption and keyword them, upload them to my website and keep them there. For ten years. All these things cost time, money, or both. If nobody pays up, it's not a sustainable way of earning a living.

This is not just a result of the precarious economic situation. After all budgets, although cut, are still there for writers - it's only photographers who are ever asked to work for free. But budgets reflect priorities, and suggest that the real problem is the failure of many publishers to recognise the journalistic value of the right photograph. How we ensure that they do is not obvious, but doing what I did in this (I plead, special) case is not the way to go, for which I apologise to my fellow photographers.

Ten Years On

Rowenna Davies has written a Guardian Comment Is Free piece about the school student protest against the invasion of Iraq held in Parliament Square ten years ago this week.

Like the 2 million who had marched against the war the previous month, the protest failed to influence the gung-ho Blair government, clearly committed all along to doing whatever Washington asked. But, as Davies spells out, the Hands Up for Peace campaign did have an impact on the participants (of whom she was one), influencing, long-term, attitudes to politicians, and to methods of political action. Interestingly, even before the existence of Facebook and Twitter, it managed to go viral, with school students sending in hand prints emblazoned with anti-war slogans from across the country.

Famously, when asked his opinion of the significance of the French Revolution, Chairman Mao thought it “too early to tell”. Ten years on from the invasion of Iraq, and twelve from the start of the war in Afghanistan, not many people would hesitate before giving their judgement of the consequences. The kids were right, of course.