This post was first published in 2014.
As a photographer in the United Kingdom, you have certain rights enshrined in law. Rights which can very easily be curtailed or impacted by individuals with poor understanding, misguided officialdom, or outright disregard for the laws of the land. It is vital we stand up to over-reach and cede control of our public areas.
Whilst buying some lunch from Tesco, I witnessed a moment which encapsulated the gradual erosion of our free public spaces. The Big Issue seller who stands in this part of the street, everyday of the year, had moved about four feet closer to the exit of this particular Tesco Metro store to benefit from the huge fans which churn warm air pointlessly out into the street.
The female manager of the store was busy shooing the seller away, barking at her to "move" because "customers were complaining," whilst the homeless woman argued back:
"It's coooolldd."
"Well, I'm sorry, but you can't stand there, the customers are complaining. You will have to move."
"But it's cold."
And so on. I doubt any customer had complained.
Section 44 of the Terrorism Act, the catch-all act, increasingly hacks at our freedom
The homeless woman wasn't blocking the doorway and was stood on public land, on the road she holds a licence to sell the Big Issue on. As far as I could see, she was legally entitled to stand where she was. Of course, Tesco probably don't want the homeless stealing their energy, warmth and carbon they are so kindly donating to the atmosphere, and so the manager clearly felt this potential damage to the company image had to be dealt with promptly, and thus she made the Big Issue seller move out into the chilly wind of the open street. Every little helps…
Anyway, this small moment reminded me of several situations I have found myself in whilst taking pictures, where over-zealous and officious individuals, who clearly have no understanding of the legal parameters that govern public space, seem to think they can decide who can stand where and do what. Whilst working on my film project A Second City many years ago, I was asked to move twice from public land despite being legally entitled to be there. The first occasion ranks as one of the most ridiculous moments in my random photography adventures. The second occasion was far more reasoned, but still unnecessary.
"We don't want our operations filmed."
First, I was filming a time lapse at the entrance gate of a scrap metal yard owned by EMR. Standing on the pavement, which is classed as a public highway, I set up my tripod (also allowed so long as you do not obstruct other users' rights of way) and began filming what would be a three second shot. Before I had even removed my lens cap a guard in high viz and hard hat had emerged from his watch tower and crossed the road to me, stating I couldn't take photographs.
I informed him politely that I was on public land and that I could, to which he retorted that the scrap yard was private and therefore I couldn't film it. I could already see where this was going, but persisted and stated the law which (in its most basic form) states that anyone has the right to take a photograph of anything, within reasonable expectations of privacy, whilst they are on public land. The guard informed whoever had sent him that "this geezer ain't budging" to which he was told to send me up to an office somewhere inside the yard. I obliged, packed up my kit and walked through the scrap yard to a dingy little office in a grime-covered Victorian factory building, overlooking a weigh-bridge.
Up a concrete staircase I found myself face to face with the yard manager, a wiry, middle aged man who eyed me sceptically through the hatch in the wall. He asked me what I was doing, I explained, and he simply said it was private land and I couldn't film. I countered his claim with the facts of the law, which he refused to accept. I asked what objections he had to me filming this scene:
"We don't want our operations filmed."
I questioned what he meant by this. Was he doing something illegal in this yard?
"No, But the footage could be used by competition for their own benefit."
My reply: "Anyone could just stand and watch if they cared enough."
I'm far more suspicious of why these places need to be so secretive over the photographers trying to capture them.
The argument became farcical and I was being stubborn out of principle. He stated that he would stand in front of my camera if I went back and tried to film, to which I asked if he would stand in front of anybody who happened to walk by and look, and suggested they build a wall if they required such privacy. Maybe he should work for Donald Trump?
I was then threatened with court ("I guarantee the company will win") and the police. I simply said I'd be happy for him to call the police and his lawyers as they would merely inform him of the same points I had made. We had reached an impasse, so I said I would be going back to get the shot and that he knew where to find me if he needed me. I then left the office and got the shot without any hassle at all. The irony is it wasn't even a nice shot, it was a short bit of filler between some other segments.
My second incident was a few days later in a public market. I was approached by a market stall holder who wrongly thought I needed a permit to photograph the market and her stall. I explained what I was doing, the situation, and this time I spent more time talking about my project than the legalities of the situation. After a brief conversation, I was met with a reasonable response allowing me to carry on. It seems some people can be reasonable after all.
Both of these instances, and the Tesco one, demonstrate a paranoia and creeping corporate control, which is growing in strength. More and more, people and entities are treating anyone they deem 'undesirable' or 'suspicious' with open hostility rather than applying reasoned judgement and common sense. Or, in the case of the Big Issue woman, with empathy and kindness. This attitude is particularly problematic for photographers, who are subjected to random checks and are pestered continually by self-important officials who don't understand the laws or their remit.
For a democracy, this erosion of freedom in public space is alarming and dangerous. The rise in private security firms- many of whom are badly trained, ill-informed and poorly educated in the very rules they are supposed to be upholding- are acting like a private police for the businesses they represent, bullying those of us who are unfortunate enough to innocently try and work in their vicinity.
The highways and walkways of Britain that are designated as public areas are just that. Nobody, except the police with a justifiable reason, has the power to dictate your movements or actions on these pieces of land. Furthermore, they cannot just arbitrarily confiscate camera equipment, demand you erase images or search you. Sadly, many officers are unaware of this as well.
Section 44 of the Terrorism Act, the catch-all act which increasingly hacks at our freedom, was designed to enable police to stop and search suspected terrorists but it has been used frequently to bully photographers, journalists and even tourists and day-trippers just documenting their day out. Yes, they are trying to protect us, but common sense seems to have been replaced by zealous self-importance. It also means these places being shielded from us are less open and transparent, I'm far more suspicious of why these places need to be so secretive over the photographers trying to capture imagery near or of them.
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