A PICTURE IS WORTH 1,000 GADGETS

Charles Moore, an important civil-rights photographer, died last week at age 79. His death has led to some serious meditation on both his brilliant work (which can be seen here) and the larger role of photojournalism in chronicling social injustice. Moore's photographs of an America fractured by race have been credited with spurring the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act. Now, with the rise of the mobile-phone cameras and digital technology, some worry that the art, skill and professionalism of photojournalists have been displaced by something more noisy and less powerful.

"Mr Moore raced on foot to scenes, sometimes with the camera already at his eye, often with his feet moving backward," recounts the New York Times. "Relying mostly on short-range lenses, he moved closer to the action than any photographer, began shooting, then moved even closer." His pictures are a product of bravery. We have them only because he was there to bear witness.

Yet a good photograph can still startle. Just because we are surrounded by photographs doesn't mean we can't recognise the few that succeed. In fact it is because we can all take pictures with our pocket gadgets that the work of patient professionals (such as Don McCullin's images of war) stands out.

This is also the effect of a slideshow of previously unreleased audio and images of the investigation into the My Lai massacre, recently published by The Economist (see below). Grainy and raw, these photographs have a blood-chilling immediacy. An essential witness has frozen each moment in time, preserving the horror.