In the unregulated but highly self-critical world of photo journalism, many standards are used to decide whether a photograph makes it into the morning paper. A survey of editors on their use of this year’s Pulitzer Prize-winning photos for spot news shows the measuring stick for publication is as different as the editors and newspapers themselves.

Freelance photographer Gregory Marinovich captured the prize-winning photos in Soweto on September 15, as a mob savagely murdered a man suspected of being a spy. "They told me to stop taking pictures," Marinovich told his editors. "I said I would stop shooting when they stopped killing him."

In all, six photographs were made available by the Associated Press: the suspected spy being led from a train station by five men, dragged down the street, beaten, stoned, stabbed and, ultimately, doused with gasoline and set afire.

The shots were "too strong, too grisly, too gruesome, even for an inside page," said Sacramento Bee ombudsman Art Nauman, whose paper did not use any of the photos.

The (Albany) Times-Union published four of the photographs on the front page. "If you live in the real world, then accept the fact that the world is ugly," said Dan Lynch, managing editor.

Denver’s Rocky Mountain News warned readers on Page 3 about the photos deeper in the paper: "In Soweto, a photographer pleads to no avail with a mob that beats, stabs and burns to death a man suspected of being a Zulu spy. The photos are horrific and disturbing."

Of 57 newspapers surveyed, 24 ran the burning or stabbing. Eight put the immolation on Page 1. At one paper, the stabbing was on Page 1 in color.

Seventeen papers, including the Boston Globe, Chicago Sun Times, Orange County Register and Washington Post, chose less violent scenes. Sixteen papers, including the Chicago Tribune and Seattle Times, rejected all six photos. But whether or not editors used the shots of the mob murder, many said they got little help from the old tests for acceptability — for example, whether the photo will offend readers, the so-called "breakfast test."

"I don’t think the breakfast test works for the ’90s," said Jeff Jarvis, Sunday editor at the New York Daily News.

Or, as Minneapolis Star Tribune photo editor Mike Zerby said, "the standard line is ‘we don’t bleed on your eggs.’ But I think at this particular newspaper we’ve grown past that."

Serge McCabe, photo director, The (Portland) Oregonian: "We have to use some of these photos sometimes or else nothing ever changes. The war in Vietnam really didn’t start drawing to an end or start drawing a lot of protest until those images started coming in."

Many editors willing to tell the story forcefully balked at the photo showing an assailant plunging a blade into the victim’s forehead. "It showed violence and animalistic hatred," said Roman Lyskowski, graphics editor at the Miami Herald.

The Daily News’s Jarvis rejected both the burning and the stabbing. "Whether it’s images of the Holocaust or images of South Africa, if you become desensitized to it, it becomes less important," he said, noting that the burning was somehow less shocking than the stabbing. "I remember immolation pictures from the Vietnam era . . . That’s not as unusual an image as that knife sticking right out of the skull."

At the St. Paul Pioneer Press, the stabbing was chosen for front-page color as the more arresting image. "I look at the moment that the photo freezes on film," said news editor Joe Sevick. "Rarely do you see a photo where a knife is about to go into somebody."

Most papers had no set photo policies to fall back on. "We had all these rules . . . You don’t run pictures of snakes, toilets and bodies. We discovered that the only rule we have is that we don’t have a rule," said Steve Small, St. Petersburg Times photo director.

Interestingly, the Pulitzer made the mob murder photographs more palatable to editors. Even the more graphic shots found space in several newspapers where they’d earlier been excluded. One photo editor, who had lost the fight to run the photo of the burning in September, crowed after his paper ran it in April: "No problem, it just went right in the paper," he said. "It’s no longer graphic — it’s the Pulitzer."

[Online editor's note: After a shooting spree at Standard Gravure by one of the printing company's former employees, The Courier-Journal published a front-page photograph of one of the victims. The photograph showed the dead victim lying on his back at the bottom of the stairs, his arms spread out and his body partially resting on a track used to move large rolls of paper. The photograph prompted more than 500 complaints and a lawsuit - won by The Courier-Journal - that went all the way to the Supreme Court. Although the photo was republished in the original FineLine case, The Courier-Journal has denied permission to republish the photo here. A copy of the photograph can be seen in FineLine, October 1989, p. 3.]

When Louisville Courier-Journal photo and graphics editor C. Thomas Hardin saw the photograph of the shooting victim lying dead on the floor of Standard Gravure, he knew that it was a "photo that had to be used."

To Hardin, the picture captured the horror of September 14 when a disgruntled former employee of the printing company walked into the plant with an AK-47 military assault rifle and turned it into a killing ground. In a half-hour shooting spree, the gunman wounded 13 and killed 7 before turning a pistol on himself. (Another victim later died.)

"In 25 years, I don’t remember a situation in our coverage area where an event was so tragic or public, " Hardin said. "Coupled with the national debate on automatic weapons, the use of the photo was validated. "

Readers quickly let the newspaper know that they disagreed and did not appreciate the vivid reminder of the previous day’s events on the front page of their morning paper.

How would you feel if it was your relative’s body, asked many callers to The Courier-Journal. Showing a body is in taste bad and insensitive to the victim’s family and friends, others said.

The victim’s family has since filed suit, alleging that the newspaper intentionally and recklessly inflicted mental distress on the family and that publication of the photo was an invasion of their privacy.

Don Frazier, president of the Graphics Communications International Union of which the photo’s subject was a member, calls the picture "obscene." He said he "was shocked to see it."

"This man was my friend and I know what it [the photo] did to me. I kept thinking what’s this going to do to his family? Why did they have to show his face? They could at least put a shirt or a sheet over him. . .We’ve got over 100 members at Standard and I haven’t heard one of them say anything good about that picture."

In the week following the shootings, the newspaper was inundated with 580 calls and letters, the overwhelming majority opposed to the picture.

"Some people said they thought we ran the photo just to sell newspapers," said Editor David Hawpe.

Hawpe emphasized the decision was made after careful consideration and discussion with other editors, some of whom voiced the same concerns about insensitivity that he’d later hear from readers.

"We did think about the impact such a picture might have on the family and friends of the victim," Hawpe said. "And we also thought about the need to confront readers in our community with the full consequences of gun violence."

This larger public purpose took precedence, Hawpe decided. "I talked with the [victim's] family to explain why …His widow rejected my reasons…I deeply regretted any pain the photo caused them."

Hawpe said, "We thought that after the first edition we could always change our minds if we felt we made a mistake."

But no change was made.

"The photo did what I wanted it to do by showing the reality of what assault weapons are capable of," Hawpe said. "A less graphic photograph would not have been as effective."

Photo editor Hardin agrees. "We don’t make a habit of blood and gore, or showing pictures of accidents, it goes against our tradition. But this photograph was tasteful and dramatic. . . in the same vein as some of the Vietnam photos which brought home the horrors of that war."

After articles were published explaining Hawpe’s reasons for using the photograph, more positive calls and letters trickled in. The wife of another man killed by the gunman made a trip to the newspaper to deliver a letter stating her support. Sarah Wible, widow of James Wible, wrote: "I would want people to remember that my husband died violently – senselessly – and I don’t want anyone to forget it."

Union president Frazier concedes that "maybe the picture did raise the consciousness of some about gun violence like he [Hawpe] said he meant to do. "

Frazier adds, "We [Standard Gravure employees] don’t need our consciousness raised, we were there ."

Considering the reaction of the public and the photo subject’s family, would The Courier-Journal publish the photograph again?

"Yes, I’d do the same thing again," Hawpe said. "I am comfortable with our decision. No, that’s not the right word. We made a defensible decision."

When The Virginian-Pilot and The Ledger-Star published a photograph of a nude man mowing his grass, some people complained about the coverage, or actually, the lack of it. It wasn’t exactly naked rage, but about 60 readers said they found the photo offensive; some felt it was even pornographic.

The photo, which was four columns wide and about 6 inches deep, ran on the front page of the local news section. The subject of the photo is a member of a clothing-optional group. His decision to do his yardwork in the buff landed him in court on charges of indecent exposure.

Assistant Managing Editor Ron Speer said the decision to run the photo required no "soul-searching." He simply looked at the picture closely "to make sure nothing was revealed that shouldn’t be."

After the initial round of complaints, the Norfolk newspapers decided to ask readers whether the photograph offended them. Using Infoline, the newspapers’ telephone information service, 4,361 calls were logged — 65 percent of them disagreeing with the readers who said that the photo was in bad taste.

One supporter responded, "Once again, we have 60 people out of how many in your readership trying to tell me what I should read. I find that more offensive than any picture."

Another reader said, "To me it’s not as bad as some of the photos the newspaper runs when there has been a tragic accident."

From another supporter: "Neither my 95-year-old mother nor I thought the picture was offensive. To tell the truth, the first thing I thought of was, ‘He isn’t afraid of skin cancer.’"

A "pro-photo" caller who said she was the 83-year-old mother of two sons said she found the picture of the man "perfectly beautiful." She added, "God help us, if we had to look at most men in the buff, my sons included."

But these comments were in the 1500 calls objecting to the picture:

"I have a 9-year-old daughter who now knows what a naked man looks like thanks to you . . . I will no longer buy your paper until you raise your standards."

"The editor who decided to print this needs counseling."

"Nudity is not expected in a newspaper. Nudity is abnormal. If it were normal, the editor who put this picture in the paper would be sitting there with no clothes on.

Speer (who does wear clothes to work) said he’s been amazed at the amount of reaction. He said if he had the decision to make again, he "perhaps wouldn’t play the picture so big."

In case you’re wondering, the indecent exposure charges against the naked rider were dismissed. The story accompanying the photograph said the judge decided "it’s OK to expose one’s private parts in the private parts of one’s yard."

"I thought I’d be photographing a rescue. Instead, I photographed a drowning."

On December 3, Lawrence (MA) Eagle-Tribune photographer Marc Halevi had gone to the shores of Plum Island to get shots of the stormy seas and the highest tides in 60 years. He ended up with a powerful collection of images recording the last moments of a woman’s life — and the Eagle-Tribune ended up with difficult decisions.

How should these photos of the death of an obviously disturbed woman be played? The victim had been drinking heavily that morning, according to witnesses at the beach, and saying things such as "let the ocean take me."

Publishing the photos would undoubtedly raise the question: Why didn’t the photographer jump in to try to save a drowning woman?

When Halevi first saw the woman she was standing on a sand bank dangerously near the stormy ocean. He snapped a picture, liking the idea of having a person in his shot. Seconds later as he was looking through his viewfinder, he saw a wave crash against the embankment on which she was standing, knocking down the sand and pulling the woman into the water.

Instinctively, Halevi snapped a photograph moments after she fell. He said he then shouted to nearby rescuers, who were already on the island because of the stormy weather conditions.

"Rather than do it myself," said Halevi, "I just made this immediate decision that (these people) would be better than I (at rescuing her)."

But because the sea was so rough, even a trained rescue team was unsuccessful. Halevi captured her futile attempt to reach a rescuer’s hand. Her body washed ashore three hours later.

Some news accounts labeled the death a suicide, but Halevi said his camera recorded a different story. "She definitely did not jump in, nor did she walk in," Halevi said, "but I think by being near the edge, she was doing something that could be construed as suicidal."

The newspaper never called the death a suicide. It did refer to the drowning of a "troubled woman" and quoted her neighbors as saying the victim had talked about suicide in the past.

Since it wasn’t suicide, in their opinion, city editor Alan White said there was never any question about whether to use the photographs but how. "She did try to get out," White said, and the power of the storm and the heroics of those who tried to save her made the incident a "story that needed to be told."

Drownings of people during these weather conditions are not uncommon, White said. "People go down to the beach to see this spectacle and some of them don’t come back." White said seven people drowned last year.

White said they also decided early on to explain in a sidebar piece the photographer’s involvement and his attempt to get help. In the cutline for the photo of the woman floating on her back, the Tribune also made a point of explaining that the shot was taken with a telephoto lens from fifty feet away to dispel the impression given by the photo that Halevi was within arm’s length of the victim.

Eagle-Tribune editor Dan Warner was also concerned the photo of the woman with the raised cigarette and bottle might not give an accurate story.

"She looks like she’s not struggling and she’s just floating away," said White. "It looks like Ophelia’s mad scene — holding a bottle of beer."

Halevi believes she was simply in a state of shock and said moments later she was struggling for her life.

Still shaken by the incident, Halevi wonders if it would have made a difference had he not taken the photograph when she slid into the water.

"One of the things that I have real problems with and I haven’t really resolved . . . perhaps, if I hadn’t taken the five or ten seconds, if I hadn’t responded to my instincts to first take the shot, perhaps that time would have (made) the difference between life and death."

But White believes Halevi made the right call. "There were professional rescuers there," White says, "They were trained . . . and had the equipment."

Was The Sacramento Bee letting its "pro-war" bias show in its choice of a photograph to accompany a story about an anti-war demonstration? Some of the demonstrators let The Bee know that they believed it had; even more complained that the photo misrepresented the reality of the event to its readers.

On January 19, (1991) several hundred people gathered in Sacramento to take part in a peaceful demonstration against the Gulf war. A story noted that the protest "took a decidedly middle-class turn as attorneys, social workers and liberal lobbyists . . . joined hands with students."

Yet the picture to illustrate the story, which was played prominently, was of a young man wearing a "Punk for Peace" T-shirt. He had decorated his face like a death mask with bullets and cartridges.

The Bee’s ombudsman Art Nauman said most of the callers about the photograph had the same complaint: "You have tarred us all with the same brush and misrepresented who we are — middle-class, ordinary folks. This character was an aberration and your photographer honed in on this aberration."

The day after the "Punk for Peace" picture ran, The Bee had yet more picture problems when it did a photo layout of anti-war demonstrators to go with a feature on San Francisco’s history of civil protest.

The story was published after a weekend of peaceful demonstrations in San Francisco. But the photographs used were all taken on the previous Thursday, the day after the war began, when a demonstration had resulted in some arrests and acts of violence. The dominant picture used was a color shot of five people vandalizing a U.S. Army recruiting office.

Once again, callers to The Bee charged distortion because the vandalism picture wasn’t representative of the peaceful protests over the weekend.

Bee executives involved in the photo selection told ombudsman Nauman that they had no ulterior motives — the "punk" picture offered variety, the vandalism picture captured an actual event.

Nauman writes in his column on the photo controversy that the editors should have asked — and answered — a key question: "Why is the photo suggesting one thing but some of the word coverage another? The apparent contradiction should have been cured before the presses rolled."

At the beginning, there was nothing unusual about this benefit walkathon.

Folks gathered pledges, laced on their walking shoes and hit the pavement on a sunny fall day in Seattle.

But coverage in The Seattle Times, specifically the photograph that the newspaper used, caused a furor among readers who had participated in the walk. It didn’t accurately represent the event, they said.

The photo shows men dressed in nuns’ habits and wearing theatrical makeup. They called themselves the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, and they said they were an AIDS fund-raising group.

The group caused quite a stir. Other walkers cheered and called, "Way to go, Sisters!" Some took pictures; others stared.

This group was an obvious "photo opportunity" and I took pictures for The Times.

The photos I shot before the appearance of the Sisters seemed bland: people standing under a cloud of balloons, Mom and Dad from suburbia, U.S.A. pushing strollers.

Going into the event, I understood the red flags that accompany AIDS as an issue, and I made an effort to photograph the event to show people from "All Walks of Life," the slogan of this year’s walk for the Northwest AIDS Foundation.

I avoided photographing people who could be stereotyped based on their appearance. Yes, the Sisters are a stereotype from the early days of Gay Pride parades, but I rationalized that they were at the event and did everything they could to draw attention to themselves. I shot pictures and headed for another assignment.

I was called off that assignment to cover a spot news situation. This was a follow-up on a shootout that concerned an Army Ranger and some people he said were involved in drug dealing. This story was Page One news and was the subject of heavy discussion in the newsroom.

Back at the office, with negatives on the light table, the walkathon paled in news appeal compared to the shootout. One picture for the walkathon would do, I thought, and a shot of the Sisters was an easy choice. I, and the photo editor on duty, didn’t think about how the picture would be received. It was a "grabber" picture. We turned our attention to editing the shootout photos.

The next day The Times city desk fielded a large handful of telephone calls complaining about the photo.

There were too many callers to remain smugly confident that our newspaper had made the correct editing decisions. It’s easy to brush off the few who will always be offended, but these dozens? People I had met on other AIDS fund-raising stories were thoughtful and compassionate.

I wrote to Frank Wetzel, the newspaper’s ombudsman, who is always accessible via computer messaging. I explained the situation, saying the Sisters "were a stunning sight, and I didn’t feel I could just ignore them."

I added that we "may have erred" in not pairing that photo with another, less incendiary shot.

Wetzel’s computer bulletin board is a great place to comment on issues involving readers or how we cover news.

He discussed the issue in his column the following Sunday.

"Is it the photographer’s job to provide the most eyecatching shot available, or is it to provide the general tone?" he asked.

He went on to explain that "Journalists are trained to focus on the unusual, the abnormal, the aberrational." Then he agreed with me that the photo used should have been accompanied by another "more representative of the occasion."

A casual chat with Stanley Farrar, assistant managing editor for graphics, made the original decision to use the photo more palatable.

"You can’t run a transcript of every event you cover," said Farrar, who had not been on duty the night we made the decision.

Farrar says journalism by its nature does not deal with the mundane, and thus we aren’t obligated to cover everything.

He’s right.

But did we make the right editing decision? I’m convinced that we made a thoughtless error. Although no harm was intended, our newspaper may have left with some of our readers an indelibly incorrect reaffirmation of what gays and lesbians are all about.

We should remember basic tenets of ethical journalism – to add perspective to accuracy, to be fair even when we are in a rush, to treat every photo as important.

I hope I cover the walkathon next year. But I hope the Sisters aren’t there.

Suddenly, all the theories about taste and responsibility were washed away by the power and intensity of a single photograph.

Late in an early summer afternoon, four editors were standing in the newsroom of The Sacramento Union, staring at a black and white print showing the limp body of 7-year old Lamphone Keovoravoth.

Should we run the photo? Will we offend our readers by depicting death so closely? Is it really news? If we didn’t have the photo would the story even make page one? What are we selling with this paper, information or emotion?

These are no longer easy questions in today’s competitive marketplace. Editors know that a dramatic local story can bring a barrage of telephone calls the next day, readers angry at the impersonal and exploitative press.

Newspapers seem to take the brunt of reader anger in these situations. The very nature of print seems indelible, with its power to plant a message in the mind.

The impact of a single, black and white photo prominently displayed can last in a community’s conscience long after the news has moved on to other events.

Still, the boy is limp in the policeman’s arms. His hair is wet from the river.

The story is full of the small details that serve us as compilers of human tragedy: the boy was swimming in a dangerous part of the Sacramento River, despite many public warnings about the strong current; he disappeared beneath the surface of the river and then was dramatically rescued by a member of the Drowning Accident Rescue Team (DART); the family, poignantly Cambodian refugees, grieves by the banks of the river.

The conversation in the middle of the city room goes like this -

Photo Editor: "Best shot we’ve had in weeks. The photographer did a phenomenal job just getting there. Run it."

News Editor: "It’s either this or the swearing-in of the president of Brazil. Let’s run it."

City Editor: "It will be all over television. We have the photo. Even if we focus on the rescue attempt, it’s still our best local story. I’d run it."

Newsroom debates most often distill toward internal considerations. The photographer got the shot, how could you throw his work away? What do we have that’s better? Another story from 5,000 miles away? We have the photo. We can’t put it in the drawer and not use it, can we?

Of course we can. The whole nature of the debate following the public suicide of Pennsylvania State Treasurer Budd Dwyer centered on the notion that the photos were meaningless as news.

Seeing death in the eye of a man about to blow his brains out was not a legitimate news function, the debate suggested, it was only the basest reason for starting the presses at all.

And yet, the photo before us this summer afternoon overcomes these deliberations with its own overwhelming logic. The rescuer holds in his open arms the life of a young boy. The boy still breathes, but barely. Doctors place the boy on their critical list and then, within a few hours, and despite their urgent work, the boy dies.

In the end, we are left with the only decision we can make. The photo will run because not to run it is the greater error. Even if the community and, sadly, the family are offended by the photo, we reason the greater offense is to withhold news.

Our detractors will say we could run the story, inside the paper, but skip the photo since it does nothing but exploit grief.

But the truth of the matter to the editors gathered in the newsroom is that the photo is the story. It is not just facts which become news.

If only facts were needed, stenographers would find work in city rooms. News and emotion are one. This photo brings an event to an emotional pitch.

If we cannot bring emotion to the news pages, then we can rarely tell a story because in the end, facts are not enough to tell the sorrow and joy.

I am writing in response to an article in the October FineLine by Deni Elliott concerning the work of photojournalist J. Ross Baughman. In this article, (see "As life passes by") Baughman is presented as believing that the highest good is served by remaining neutral in any situation, recording with his camera whatever tragedy happens before him regardless of the consequences for the people being photographed.

I have seen articles about Mr. Baughman for many years, and every time I have read about his philosophy, I have reacted immediately and vehemently. I am not sure how much of what he says is for effect and how much is actually how he works, but we have a categorically different view of the profession of photojournalism. I cannot see placing any human life in jeopardy so I can make photographs.

If I understand the article correctly, Baughman feels that if he places himself in a position as an impartial observer, he must remain an impartial observer at all costs or he will lose his credibility. The value of being able to report on events outweighs all other considerations and the greatest good will be served by reporting on these events, no matter how harmful to some individuals, so that the public will have a fair and accurate account of them.

Mr. Baughman won a Pulitzer Prize in 1978 for photographs he made on a search and destroy mission in Rhodesia. There is no doubt that these photographs were powerful and effective journalism and that they told the world of the atrocities taking place in that country. He was criticized at that time, however, for not doing anything to try to stop the torture he was photographing. That he could have done much is doubtful anyway, but his expressed lack of desire to try at all was condemned.

In a similar famous case, Horst Faas and Michel Laurent won the Pulitzer in 1972 for photos of a street execution in Dacca and in their explanations issued later, they made it clear that they were completely unable to stop the mob. They also left the scene in the hopes that, without the cameras present to play to, the crowd would not go ahead with the killings. Only when they knew they were unable to alter the event and that their presence as photographers was having no effect did they return and photograph the scene.

This is the heart of the matter. In my mind, the first obligation is to follow my values as a human being. If I chose to place myself in a situation where harm is about to take place, there is no excuse for my letting it take place if I can stop it. My job is to observe life, but this does not relieve me of my obligation as a human being to stand up for what I believe is right. My presence makes me a participant whether I like it or not.

The article refers to several infamous cases where people burned themselves while cameras rolled. One of the cases Dr. Elliott mentions is the man who tried to commit suicide in Jacksonville, Alabama, while a television cameraman and a reporter watched. As a reaction to this very incident, the National Press Photographers Association decided some years ago to create its Humanitarian Award which is given to photographers who put their cameras down and help people in need. The organization feels a need to honor such conduct.

If I place myself in a situation in order to make photographs but find instead a need to help another person, it is my obligation to lay my camera down and help. My job (which is 8 hours a day) requires me to be fair and accurate. My humanity (which is 24 hours a day) requires me to be my brother’s keeper.

Given the choice of shooting a picture or saving a life, what do you do? Photojournalist Ross Baughman says that if you’re on the job, there’s no quandary. You shoot the picture, of course.

Although I’m queasy about how the theory plays out in extreme circumstances, I think Baughman is right. Society needs one profession charged with documenting reality. If we’re going to do a good job of governing ourselves, we need representations that are neither hidden in shadows nor painted by hype. Journalists can’t provide that without the special privilege of watching life’s drama from the sidelines. They can’t provide that without the special obligation to stay out of life’s way.

Sometimes journalists should come to the aid of an individual, but in general, they should put their duty to document first, even if someone is hurt or killed. And, not only should journalists be free from prosecution when they witness crimes, they should be praised for their willingness to put their own physical and psychic safety aside to provide a look at the underbelly of life.

More than a decade ago, Baughman, then a photographer for AP, persuaded a Rhodesian cavalry unit to let him accompany them on a mission into the interior. It was rumored that the white army was torturing and killing black civilians. The army denied the charges and the civilians weren’t talking.

Dressed like the soldiers so that he could be inconspicuous, Baughman photographed the 25-man unit while they burned down homes and tortured men, women and children. His photos won a Pulitzer Prize. His choice not to intervene won him international disfavor.

Baughman says that he could have stopped some of the atrocities, if he had been so inclined. "I would have been able to make the soldiers feel inhibited. I could have said, ‘Gee, fellows, do you think this is necessary?’"

Or he could have protected the victims. "It would have been possible for me to poke my head into the next hut and shoo the people out the back, giving them a few extra seconds," Baughman said.

But he knew that style of reporting would have offered no more than what people already knew. It’s no surprise that military units use threats to achieve their ends. "If you’re going to find out if they’re really going to pull the trigger, you have to wait," Baughman said.

With photos and stories, voters need to be brought face-to-face with parts of reality that they would like to deny. The disenfranchised, those living outside of the law, need their stories presented and their faces shown.

What entices people to attend dog fights? What’s going on in the minds of young gang members who make city streets unsafe? We won’t get answers waiting for these people to come forward and explain themselves. The explanations provided by arresting officers are obviously suspect. Yet we don’t fully understand our society unless we get these stories from the perpetrators’ point of view.

Journalists should watch and wait when the reality they are collecting is information that citizens need and when they alone can be trusted to get that information out.

No one questioned the judgment of the photojournalists who, in 1963, shot pictures of Buddhist monks who self-immolated in protest of the Vietnam War. The world needed that statement.

However, 20 years later, when two Jacksonville, Alabama videographers shot tape while a man attempted suicide by dousing himself with lighter fluid and lighting a match, the community was appalled that no one interceded.

In the second instance, the journalists should have put the man’s life first. The drunken, out-of-work roofer’s story of individual despair did not carry the same weight — the same need to be told at all costs — as the story of a religious group giving lives in protest of war.

But the line that separates one from the other is not that distinct. How about if six people had attempted suicide in the park? What if the roofer said that he was protesting some social ill? What if photojournalists happened upon the monk alone in a field rather than before a crowd of hundreds on a street in Saigon?

When journalists stumble upon life-threatening scenes with no context within which to judge what’s going on, they should help if they’re needed. But when they set out to do a story that they think may involve crime or pain, they should be prepared to watch rather than to react.

Society needs journalists who put professional duty before their desire to help. It’s the same kind of need that society has for attorneys who are willing to defend those guilty of heinous crimes, despite their own horror at the crimes committed.

At times, playing the role of observer and documenter of events can be a dirty job, but it’s the journalist’s job to do it.

For another view, see "Letter to the editor."