When I first entered photography it was a calling rooted in a belief that images could change the world. A single photograph could cut through political doublespeak, expose hidden truths, and ignite social movements. At its best, photography was an unflinching witness to history, guided by a commitment to truth and an ethical framework that demanded rigour, accountability, and respect for the subjects we captured—a paladin of justice armed with a lens and an ethical code. It was that, or I was a naive idiot.
I was sponsored into the NUJ thanks to Peter Dunne, then senior photographer at Harry Evans’ Sunday Times. I joined the chapel on my 19th birthday, a gift wrapped in grit and adrenaline. Back then, I was a precocious kid with a camera, making a reputation with riots and rock concerts. It was the late ‘70s, and there were plenty of both.
I had my trusty 35mm, rolls of black-and-white film, and an American army jacket. I could process film in the sink of a hotel room, and photographs went ‘down the wire’. A proper, wide eyed, scruffy, Don McCullin wannabe.
Then Rupert Murdoch bought the press. Harold Evans quit, and in came Andrew Neil, all fired up and heading for a career on chat shows. McCullin wasn’t having it. He challenged Neil’s commitment to investigative journalism—work that actually mattered, see how that played out.
Inevitably McCullin left, and with him went the soul of the place. Watching that unfold, I realised something, this cherished idea of a free press, well it had a ‘sold’ sign hanging over the door.
The world of photojournalism evaporated pretty quickly. Sales replaced ethics. Truth? Well truth did a pivot, the paper was put to the service to another kind of truth, the kind of truth that serves a goal with less connection to idealism. I didn’t have a place there. So I left, or it left me. Either way it felt like losing a faith.
But here’s the thing: I didn’t walk away from my principles. Those stayed. I still believe in truth, transparency, and empathy. I just found a new way to honour them. For the past 40 years I’ve photographed architecture. Buildings are patient subjects. They have stories. Long ones. Architectural stories evolve over decades. The dreams and ambitions of my early clients are just now coming to life, years later. That’s my news cycle now. Slow, deliberate, meaningful.
Leaving photojournalism wasn’t a surrender. It was a retreat to higher ground. Sometimes, to stay true to yourself, you have to walk away from the thing you loved. And that’s okay. But I can’t help feeling that somehow, sometime, we are all owed “a full and unequivocal apology”
