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Ethics

Who owns the photographs you paid for? What to agree before the shoot

Paying for a photograph doesn't make it yours. What UK copyright means for charities and CSR teams, and the four things to agree before any shoot.

6 min

Illustration of a photographer seen from behind, facing a wall of tall line-drawn shapes

Paying somebody to take a photograph does not make it yours.

Most charity leaders and CSR teams I talk to assume it does. It’s one of the most expensive assumptions in the sector, because nobody finds out until a campaign, a report or a partner needs the picture and someone asks who said you could use it.

This guide explains who owns what, and what to agree before anyone picks up a camera.

The folders nobody can use

A grant-maker told me earlier this year that they have folders and folders of photographs, sent in by the organisations they fund.

He was talking about how usable they were. Most of them weren’t. But as far as I could tell, not one of those photographs belonged to them. Not the ones a project worker took on her phone, or the ones a volunteer took at an open day. Not even the ones a freelance photographer was paid to take, unless somebody signed something nobody remembers signing.

A room full of material a funder may not be able to use, kept by people who believed they could.

What you actually bought

Copyright starts with whoever made the picture. The Intellectual Property Office puts it simply: the person who creates an image will generally be the first owner of the copyright.

When you commission someone, the IPO says the first owner is the person who created the work, not you, the commissioner, unless you agree otherwise in writing. And the law is strict about how ownership changes hands:

"An assignment of copyright is not effective unless it is in writing signed by or on behalf of the assignor."

Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, section 90(3)

A purchase order isn’t that. Nor is an invoice. A friendly email saying “these are yours to use” might be a licence, which is worth having, but it isn’t ownership.

So the honest answer for most organisations is that you hold a licence you’ve never read, from a photographer you liked, on terms nobody wrote down.

Why so many people remember it differently

Because for a long time they were right. Before 1 August 1989, if you commissioned and paid for a photograph, the copyright was usually yours. Then the law changed and the default flipped to the person holding the camera.

Anyone who learned the rule before then, or learned it from somebody who did, is carrying a rule that expired a long time ago.

Consent and ownership are not the same thing

This is the part that catches out even careful organisations.

A signed consent form deals with whether a person is happy to appear. That sits in data protection, because a recognisable person in a photograph is their personal data.

Copyright is a different law, with a different regulator. It deals with who owns the picture. A consent form is not a copyright assignment, and a copyright assignment is not consent. You can hold one without the other, and most organisations hold exactly one.

I know this from both sides. When I got married this year, other people took the photographs. I don’t own them, and I still have every say over how I appear in them.

Handing over the camera has a catch

I often encourage organisations to hand the camera to the people they serve, so they can tell their own story in their own way. I still mean it. But there’s something to know first.

Hand somebody a camera and you hand them the copyright.

There’s an exception, and it’s narrower than people think. Work made by an employee, in the course of their job, belongs to the employer. A volunteer isn’t an employee. Nor is a service user, a trustee, a member of a community group or a young person on a project.

So the more participatory your storytelling becomes, the less of it your organisation owns. Keep doing it. Just agree the terms when you ask, not two years later when a campaign needs the picture.

Where I stand

I should be open about my interest here. I’m a photographer, and the rights I’ve just described are rights I hold and license.

So here are two things that cost me something to say.

Most charities and CSR teams don’t need to buy the copyright. What you need is the right to use the pictures properly. When I photograph a project, the client gets a full licence to use every image I deliver, anywhere and for as long as they like. The only condition is a photo credit where they’re used. The copyright stays with me so I can show the work in my portfolio. Licensing those pictures to anyone else would need the client’s agreement first, so it isn’t a back door to selling images of the people you serve.

A lot of what you photograph doesn’t need a professional at all. A member of staff with a phone is often the right answer, and it has a quiet advantage. Work made by an employee in the course of their job belongs to you automatically.

What to agree before any shoot

Whether you’re a charity commissioning your own pictures or a CSR team paying for a shoot with a charity partner, put these four things in writing before the day.

  1. The licence. Where can the pictures be used, for how long, and does it include print, paid advertising and reports?

  2. Who else can use them. If you’re a company, can your charity partner use them too? Agree it now so everyone knows from the start.

  3. Consent, separately. Who has agreed to appear, for which uses, and how can they withdraw?

  4. Credit. How the photographer and, where it’s right, the people in the pictures are credited.

Ask for: a short written licence that names the uses, the organisations allowed to use the pictures, and the credit, agreed before the shoot.

Ask for: consent handled separately from the licence, with a clear way for people to change their mind.

Four questions to ask about one photograph this week

Don’t audit your whole archive. You’ll open the folder, feel the size of it and close it again.

Take one image. The one on your homepage, or the one that carried your last big bid. Ask:

  1. Who made it?

  2. Who is in it?

  3. Who holds the rights?

  4. Who benefits when it’s used?

The first three have answers you can go and find. The fourth doesn’t, and that’s the point. If a photograph of someone’s worst week wins you a six-figure grant, what did they get? Ownership is settled by law. Fairness isn’t.

This is a summary of published law and official guidance, not legal advice. If you have a specific problem, take proper advice.

If you’re planning a shoot and want the licence, consent and partner terms agreed properly from the start, start a project.

Questions people ask

If we paid for the photographs, don’t we own them?

Not usually. In the UK the photographer owns the copyright unless it’s assigned to you in writing. What you normally get is a licence to use the pictures.

Is a consent form enough to use a photograph?

No. Consent covers whether the person is happy to appear. You also need the right to use the picture itself, which comes from the copyright owner.

Can our charity partner use photographs we commissioned?

Only if the licence allows it. Agree it before the shoot so the partner can use the pictures in their own bids and reports.

08

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CSR photography

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08

CSR photography

Photograph the change, not the visit.

Documentary photography for CSR and community programmes, with your charity partners at the centre.

var(--variable-jus2aC8jJ)

Nishkam SWAT, London

08

CSR photography

Photograph the change, not the visit.

Documentary photography for CSR and community programmes, with your charity partners at the centre.

var(--variable-jus2aC8jJ)

Nishkam SWAT, London

Matt Mahmood-Ogston is a London-based social impact storyteller and documentary photographer. He founded the Naz and Matt Foundation in 2014 and has led it for more than 12 years.