My daughter recently got married in Washington, D.C., and it was a beautiful day. There was a freak snowstorm, however, that put a layer of white snow down before the ceremony.
One of the guests invited a friend who had beautiful bright pink hair. There was no seating chart, and the friend sat on the aisle toward the front of the ceremony. In the video and most of the photos taken of the ceremony, with the white-snow backdrop, the friend with the bright pink hair distracts your gaze so much that it takes away from the focus of the wedding: the bride and groom.
Would it be ethical to replace the hair digitally with a more neutral-colored hair? Or would it be disrespectful to the pink-haired guest? — Name Withheld
From the Ethicist:
This is not a technology column, and your Ethicist is not an expert on how cameras work. But I do know that the light that came into those (presumably digital) cameras would have landed on a variety of color detectors whose output has to be interpreted by algorithms in order to produce an image. Use different algorithms, get different images. Certain white-balance settings, for instance, might aim for certain color temperatures. I’m not an expert on the human visual system either, but it, too, has to interpret the incoming pattern of photons. The fact that the pink hair in your photographic records of the event stands out to you in the way that it does arises from the interaction of these two interpretations. Why assume that it’s the only way to represent reality?
You wanted these stills and videos to capture something of the experience you had at the time. But when you were at the wedding, the pink hair didn’t scald your retina. In this respect, the images you’re looking at misrepresent the experience. Colors have properties like luminance, chroma and saturation, all of which affect their appearance. Someone with the relevant expertise could surely preserve the pink — which was something you remember — while reducing the extent to which it draws the eye, delivering images that are more faithful to what you witnessed. For advice on how, you’ll have to go elsewhere. My point is just that a camera doesn’t come with a toggle preset marked “truth.”
My ethical preset would focus on the fact that the person with the pink hair surely didn’t intend to photobomb the wedding and would probably be mortified by what you’re seeing. Having pink hair doesn’t mean you think that every situation you enter is about you. Any reasonable choice you make in editing the images that mitigates the problem is one you could defend to the guest. You wouldn’t be disrespecting this person; you would be respecting your experience of the event.
Thoughts? If you would like to share a response to today’s dilemma with the Ethicist and other subscribers in the next newsletter, fill out this form.
A Bonus Question
I work in design. Recently there has been a proliferation of tools that use artificial intelligence to help us generate pictures of humanlike models — say, an image of a hand holding a phone. Occasionally I would like to change the skin tone of a model in one of these images. I would never do this with a real model, of course. Are the ethics any different with an A.I. model?
The way A.I. generates art involves a bit of randomness. So saying, “Make that same image again, but with a darker skin tone,” won’t always work. Also, this is strictly for A.I. art that is generated legally without copyright restrictions. — Name Withheld
From the Ethicist:
Imagine that you were an artist painting a human form on a canvas. There’s no model in your studio to whom your image is answering; you’re working from your imagination — which is to say, you’re guided by your memories of the countless human beings, and pictures of human beings, you’ve encountered. You shift the tonal values of skin as you proceed, applying layers of pigment on top of an underpainting. How can this be objectionable? Yet this situation is, in the relevant respects, analogous to one you describe. A.I. image generators like Midjourney and DALL-E 2 can produce representations of people without any specific people being represented.
You say that “of course” you wouldn’t change the skin tone of a real model; I wonder about that precept. I noted earlier that the palette of a digital photograph is an interpretation of what the camera “sees.” That’s true of chemical photography, too: What you get depends on choices about film stock, lighting and camera settings, not to mention decisions made in the darkroom. Yes, there can be racist reasons for changing skin tone, as has been suggested in debates about tabloid pictures of Meghan, the Duchess of Sussex. But not every alteration of skin tone (or hair or features) in an image is to be condemned. These are matters to be judged case by case, or frame by frame.
Readers Respond
The previous column’s question was from a reader who had recently exited a polyamorous relationship with two friends. The letter writer sought guidance about how to navigate the aftermath of the breakup, particularly as the members of the throuple continued to pair off in different configurations. The reader wrote: “Throughout the past year, as multiple complex situations arose, we have all wished for a model of behavior. Monogamy-centered media suggests that one should avoid dating a friend’s ex-partner. Is this correct? And if so, can this concept be universalized? … What do we owe to our romantic partners and friends when the situations are complex?”
In his response, the Ethicist noted: “What’s universally applicable isn’t a specific rule; it’s the idea of giving consideration to people’s vulnerabilities. … What we owe to other people in these circumstances is giving proper weight to their interests and to our commitments, and not just doing what pleases us at the moment. A polyamorous arrangement without explicit zones of exclusivity and clear conventions can leave things perilously murky. You would be better off if you all discussed your situation together, set ground rules and arrived at some shared understanding about pairing up with people inside and outside your group. Making love is not always best in the dark.” (Reread the full question and answer here.)
⬥
Thank you to the Ethicist for a thoroughly sensible, elegant response to the troubled throuple. I was impressed by the judgment-free consideration and by the inclusion of the Bloomsbury example with built-in aphorism. — Therry
⬥
The bottom line of having a group discussion and setting ground rules that the Ethicist suggests is spot on; creating transparency and agreement within any group dynamic is critically important. There are also specific resources for polyamory. One place to start is the book “The Ethical Slut,” by Dossie Easton and Janet Hardy, which is highly recommended by leaders in the community. — Rob
⬥
As an ex-spouse of a formerly open marriage, I would add that while the Ethicist’s advice to establish “explicit zones of exclusivity” is ideal, this still leaves each participant just as susceptible to betrayal as any monogamous relationship. These terms can easily fall by the wayside when one partner decides they want more access to the third person (or fourth, etc.) than the initial agreement defined. — Jennifer
⬥
Love and interdependence develop in complex directions. My decades-long polyamory is based on two values: freedom to respond to real attractions, and love for individuals regardless if they have other romantic or sexual involvements. As a parent can love more than one child, adults can love more than one person, I believe. I agree with the Ethicist that relational secrecy can only hurt others, and that all three sorting out ground rules is advisable. — Donna
⬥
This entire situation shows that people can supposedly liberate themselves from the old conventions of monogamy but still be totally stuck in possessiveness and the resulting expectations and assumptions. Polyamorous relationships are going to stumble over all the same old hurdles so long as the individuals involved remain stuck in notions of proprietary love. — Lily
