In the media, poverty is often portrayed through sad faces or distressing moments, as though precarious living conditions leave no room for hope. This perspective raises a fundamental question: Why is it important to show an aspect of poverty that is not rooted in misery?
The reality in the regions where we work is undeniably difficult. Access to healthcare, education, clean drinking water, or a decent income remains a daily challenge for many. It would be easy to focus solely on this side of people’s lives: the lack of resources, weary faces, a certain sense of distress.
At Karuna-Shechen, we choose to show another reality: one that highlights the dignity and resilience of individuals, without denying their suffering. The aim is not to provoke pity, but to honor and acknowledge the full humanity of each person.
As Sadia Eqbal, documentation officer in Bihar (India), explains: “As communicators, we know how powerful storytelling can be. Choosing to show people’s joy, strength and dignity is no accident, it is something we do with care and respect. Poverty is part of their lives, yes, but it is not who they are.”
We don’t want to tell stories that make people pity them. On the contrary, we want others to see them as equals, full of hope, courage, and worth. That’s what honest storytelling means to us.
Sadia Eqbal
Beyond the spectacular: the banality of good
Matthieu Ricard speaks of the “banality of good”, a concept that contrasts with the approach of capturing alarming images of those we support.
As a sensitive photographer, he distances himself from the traditional stance of the war photographer, whose aim is to document conflict. Instead, he becomes the guardian of simple, almost ordinary moments, where a pure, innocent beauty emerges: a shared smile, the quiet gesture of a craftsman at work, or the fleeting light on a serene face.
In his photographs and writings alike, he chooses to highlight human goodness, hope, and wonder, rather than provoke indignation. By sharing stories of solidarity and images imbued with gentleness, he invites us to recognize the altruistic potential that exists in each person, even in the most difficult of circumstances. He reminds us that a world built on compassion and respect begins with the everyday acknowledgment of each person’s dignity, beyond mere denunciation of injustice.
Much has been said about the ‘banality of evil.’ But one could just as well speak of the ‘banality of good,’ by evoking the countless expressions of solidarity, thoughtfulness, and commitment to the well-being of others that punctuate our daily lives and have a profound impact on the quality of social life.
Matthieu Ricard, Plea for altruism.
Inspired by Hannah Arendt, Matthieu Ricard reminds us that evil does not always take the form of monstrous acts; it often arises from ordinary indifference, from the act of looking away, from failing to question what is shown to us. When we accept the spectacular portrayal of poverty as the only valid representation, we participate in the normalization of that suffering. By contrast, the “banality of good” lies in recognizing the quiet acts of care, solidarity, and compassion that take place every day, in the most discreet ways. A smile offered, helping a neighbor get back on their feet, sharing knowledge : these small gestures carry immense power when grounded in mutual respect. |
An ethical stance: portraying the dignity of those we support
Our visual approach is not motivated by aesthetic concerns alone, but by ethical consciousness: each image must reflect a deep respect for human beings, not be a mirror of spectacular suffering. The goal is not to produce beautiful pictures, but to bear witness to each person’s inner strength, joy, and resilience, without ignoring the challenges they face.
To ensure this coherence, ethical guidelines are shared with all photography teams. These emphasize the importance of avoiding misery-based imagery that reduces people to their suffering. For example, we preserve bodily integrity and individual dignity by avoiding any photographs of naked or shirtless children. Instead, we focus on highlighting joy and kindness: capturing meaningful exchanges, shared laughter, and moments of life that reveal each person’s capacity for hope and agency. This approach, inspired by UNICEF’s recommendations, helps avoid stigmatizing clichés and ensures fully informed consent for every publication.
Academic perspectives support this position. Researcher Sanna Nissinen underlines the importance of allowing photographed individuals to negotiate their representation, to give consent, and to take part in choosing the moment and context of the photo. It is this dialogue-based and co-constructed approach that we strive to implement.
Field reality: radiant people, without staging
On the ground, every smile we capture reflects a genuine joy, never something imposed. We are fully aware that a smile taken out of context can become a symbol of charity. That’s why we refuse to commodify or manufacture such moments.
This editorial choice is embodied in the words of our colleagues. As Saurav Anand, Program Director in Bihar, puts it: “The smiles you see in our photos are not staged. They’re real. They come from people who have lived through a lot, but still carry a flame inside them.” It is that inner flame, that energy, that we strive to illuminate.
As Jaba, nurse in Jharkhand (India), explains: “When we take pictures, they smile, not because someone asked them to, but because joy exists even in the most difficult moments. These are strong, capable human beings.”
Our goal is to honor the spontaneity of each moment, without giving any intrusive directions to those being photographed. Whether it’s a burst of laughter, a warm exchange, or focused attention on a daily task, we allow these moments to unfold naturally.
For Namuna Kandel, Program Monitoring Officer in Nepal, this is also about changing how people perceive these communities: “We want people to see these communities differently. Instead of just feeling pity, observers can feel respect. They can see that these individuals are doing their best, that they are proud of both small and large accomplishments, and that they deserve support, not just sympathy.”
By letting life unfold in front of and behind the lens, we portray people in their true context: engaged, hopeful, and far from the passive image of beneficiaries.
We often unconsciously mirror the emotions we see in others. A smiling face can trigger a similar feeling of happiness in viewers, making the story profound and memorable. It helps people connect through shared human emotion.
Namuna Kandel
Reversing humanitarian stereotypes
In the 1990s, many humanitarian campaigns relied on shocking images of extreme suffering to provoke pity and stimulate generosity. As Kate Manzo points out, this “poverty pornography” reflected a modernist discourse in which the Global North positioned itself as a benevolent “adult,” and the Global South as a passive “child,” dependent and voiceless. This narrative traps people in victimhood, denying their ability to act. It turns distress into spectacle and reduces aid to an emotional reaction, without ever addressing the structural causes of injustice or recognizing the dignity of those portrayed.
Instead, we believe in recognizing each person’s full story, because every photographed face is a unique path of struggle and hope, worthy of being told in its entirety, not just through the lens of hardship.
Nane Murmu, now an assistant caregiver for Karuna in Jharkhand, shared his personal story which resonates with this vision: “I come from a poor family. I was once in the same situation as the people we now support, until I started working as a support staff member with Karuna-Shechen. I love seeing smiling faces in photos, it shows that people living in poverty like us also matter, that our stories matter. I once saw a photo of myself, smiling while holding vegetables I had grown. It showed the hard work I had done. I really like that photo.”
Far from the sensationalism of the 1990s, our images celebrate the faces that resist, the pride in every effort made, and the ability of each individual to be an agent of their own change.
Without denying the real challenges faced by the people we photograph, we want to shed light on an often-overlooked dimension: their dignity, resilience, and the hope that runs through their daily lives. Each image becomes an opportunity to co-create a new narrative of development aid, one that does not reduce people to their economic conditions alone.
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To go further
- Manzo K (1991) Modernist discourse and the crisis of development theory. Studies in Comparative International Development 26(2):3–36
- Manzo K (2008) Imaging Humanitarianism: NGO Identity and the Iconography of Childhood, Antipode Vol. 40
- UNICEF Promoting child rights : Ethics of representation. 8 quick steps to Ethical Imagery (https://www.unicef.org/fr/media/reportages-ethiques)
