Today we’re joined by John M Simpson, a photographer whose unique background brings a perspective to documentary work that deserves our attention.

John’s journey spans multiple careers that have shaped his approach to visual storytelling. As a former military officer he later transistion to academia as a history professor. This foundation in historical analysis would prove invaluable when he later became a photojournalist. This role led him to embed with US forces in both Iraq and Afghanistan on multiple deployments, experiences that taught him to navigate challenging environments.

Today, John works as a documentary photographer with a focus on his local homeless population in Washington State. His approach goes far beyond making photographs—he builds relationships with his subjects, spending time listening to their stories and understanding their circumstances. This isn’t photography for its own sake, but documentation with purpose and respect.

John joins us in this week’s episode in his role as what he calls a “canary in the coal mine”—a documentary photographer who serves as an early warning system for society. As a historian he researched policy documents of the incoming president such as Project 2025 and Agenda 47 and recent executive orders, combined with his ongoing work in homeless communities, John has identified concerning patterns that echo historical precedents in American policy. His concerns center around the potential relocation of homeless populations to tent cities or camps on federal land, a possibility he traces through reading Project 2025, Agenda 47 and recent Executive Orders by the current administration.

John draws historical parallels, highlighting the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II which was authorized by Executive Order 9066 issued by Franklin Rosevelt. Approximately 120,000 people were interned through the executive order. This historical event serves as a reminder of how quickly rights can be curtailed.

Dorothea Lange, Ansel Adams, and Toyo Miyatake documented these internment camps. Lange’s work, often critical, was largely impounded until 2006. Adams, through his book “Born Free and Equal,” cautioned against the dangers of mass hysteria and the denial of civil liberties. Miyatake, himself interned, secretly photographed life inside the camps.

These historical examples underscore the need for constant vigilance. They remind us that the past can repeat itself if we fail to learn from it. John emphasizes that this isn’t about politics; it’s about American society and the protection of vulnerable populations.

For our audience of street and documentary photographers, John’s message is clear: you are historians. You capture not just moments, but evidence of the times we live in. As John reminds us, documentary photographers have always played a crucial role in alerting society to “something that is noxious or poisonous” happening around us.

John approaches his work with two unwavering principles: his photographs must be clear and they must be honest. He makes careful distinctions between truth and honesty, understanding that while perspective can shape what we see, integrity in representation cannot be compromised.

John challenges us to consider how documentary photographers can fulfill their role as chroniclers of contemporary history, regardless of our political perspectives. John’s work serves as a reminder that with cameras in our hands, we have both the opportunity and responsibility to document the world around us with clarity, honesty, and humanity.