In Our Hands - The Human Impact
This powerful selection of images submitted by RPS Women in Photography members explores the visible and often devastating consequences of human activity on our planet. From pollution and deforestation to the remnants of industrialisation and consumer excess, these photographs confront the reality of our environmental footprint. Each frame serves as both a document and a warning — urging us to reflect on the choices we make and the urgent need for change. The works offer a compelling call to action: our impact is undeniable, but so too is our potential to restore and protect what remains.
Visiting a garbage dump in Dhaka, Bangladesh, was a shocking experience. I wanted to look away from the horrific sight & smell. However, if we ignore the impact of human activity on the environment, then there will be no hope for the planet, or for the future generations who will inherit it. So, I determined to photograph the scene in a powerful way, in order to force the viewer to confront the impact that plastic and non-biodegradable waste has on our environment.
By Valerie Mather ARPS
By Valerie Mather ARPS
By Valerie Mather ARPS
Ocean acidification remains on the fringes of environmental discourse as an evolving and abstract issue. By photographing partially dissolved marine specimens, I'm revealing ocean acidification as a hidden consequence of our CO2 emissions. One that represents how human activities have far-reaching effects we can't always see. Oceans absorb approximately 26% of the CO2 released into the atmosphere from human activities. When CO2 dissolves in seawater, carbonic acid forms, altering the pH and leading to ocean acidification. Current science indicates that with just a slight rise in acidity, many marine organisms will suffer inhibited growth due to reduced available carbonates needed for calcification. Their existing skeletons will weaken as they slowly dissolve, causing biodiversity loss that could cascade through the marine food web. Ocean acidity has increased by approximately 30% since pre-industrial times. Until we drastically reduce global CO2 emissions, levels will continue to rise.
By Victoria Stokes ARPS
By Victoria Stokes ARPS
By Victoria Stokes ARPS
Once the heart of the whaling industry, South Georgia bears the haunting legacy of industrial exploitation. These now rusting factories, boilers, and tanks were once used to process thousands of whales—slaughtered in the name of oil and profit. What remains is a grim, decaying landscape of twisted metal and pollution, a ghostly reminder of nature ravaged for commerce. The environmental damage lingers, with toxic waste and rusting machinery contaminating the land and sea. These abandoned whaling stations are both a historical testament and a stark warning: when profit comes before preservation, nature is left to carry the burden of human greed. Pick up your waste.
By Sue Wright
"Keep Out" signs warn of the dangerous waste. Do animals read?
by Sue Wright
This image reveals a graveyard of rusting vats, tanks, and broken machinery—remnants of the industrial scale of whaling in South Georgia. Scattered across the barren landscape, these corroded relics once boiled and processed whale carcasses. Now abandoned, they silently tell the story of exploitation and environmental disregard in one of the world’s most remote and fragile ecosystems.
by Sue Wright
In the line of fire There is something both haunting and beautiful about Thursley Common as it rises from the ashes after a wildfire in May 2020. The charcoal fire-sculptures and the blackened earth speak of past trauma and the future of our natural environment at the same time. Shot on 120mm black and white film, In the Line of Fire is an ongoing series documenting the aftermath of a heathland fire local to my home, where wildfires are becoming increasingly common as our summers get hotter.
By Corinne Whitehouse
By Corinne Whitehouse
By Corinne Whitehouse
Gas station on the water.
By Aya Okawa
A decommissioned bridge, being phased out due to its age, still stands over the wetlands.
By Aya Okawa
An evaporation pool, toxic byproducts of chemical fertilizers.
By Aya Okawa
Carmunnock Road, from wider series On the Fly which looks at illegal flytipping. Objects discarded with indifference find their unintended resting place intertwining the man-made remnants with the natural world. These images aim to prompt a sense of urgency, encouraging viewers to examine their role in this pressing environmental crisis.
By Kim Simpson
Carmunnock Road, from wider series On the Fly which looks at illegal flytipping. Objects discarded with indifference find their unintended resting place intertwining the man-made remnants with the natural world. These images aim to prompt a sense of urgency, encouraging viewers to examine their role in this pressing environmental crisis.
By Kim Simpson
Road to Carnbooth House, from wider series On the Fly which looks at illegal flytipping. Objects discarded with indifference finda their unintended resting place intertwining the man-made remnants with the natural world. These images aim to prompt a sense of urgency, encouraging viewers to examine their role in this pressing environmental crisis.
By Kim Simpson
The Rhine valley supports a very active transport network with barges running as far away as the Dutch ports.
By Christina Osborne
The forests above the German town of Rheinboellen are actively managed. Trees are felled for wood, firewood and to stop disease spreading through the forest.
By Christina Osborne
Human efforts to slow the melting of the iconic Mer de Glace glacier in Chamonix include covering the ice with large white sheets to reflect the increasing sunlight that the alps are experiencing due to climate changes. Glacier snouts (their lowermost part) are rapidly retreating. Since the 18th century, the snout of the Mer de Glace has retreated uphill by more than 2.5 km, with a marked acceleration since 2002. It has retreated by 400m in the last 20 years.
By Caroline Fraser
Nestled on a country lane, this hand-painted sign speaks volumes about our relationship with the land. Its childlike charm and earnest message—“Please Stop Littering”—stand in quiet contrast to the damage it seeks to address. Human impact isn’t always industrial or loud; sometimes it’s the slow, careless scattering of waste that scars the wild. This image captures a moment where community care and frustration meet—where nature, still clinging to the trunk in ivy and bark, is defended not by policy, but by plea.
By Livvi Grant
Nature doesn’t rush, but it never stops. This forgotten home shows the quiet power of the natural world reclaiming space—ivy climbing the walls, weeds breaking through concrete, flowers blooming undeterred. Where human presence has faded, nature pushes in, persistent and unapologetic. It’s a reminder that no matter how permanent our impact may seem, the wild has its own timeline—and it always finds a way back.
By Livvi Grant
Nestled in a Wiltshire woodland, this Green Man, etched into the tree’s living skin, blurs the boundary between human hand and ancient earth. A symbol of renewal and folklore, the face speaks of reverence, but also intervention. It’s a reminder that even our most respectful marks are still marks. Here, human impact is not destruction, but devotion—yet still a shaping of nature to reflect ourselves. The tree grows on, slowly swallowing the carving into bark and time.
By Livvi Grant
Cradled in my palm is a crystal-clear fragment of the Tasman Glacier, New Zealand’s largest glacier, now retreating at an alarming pace due to climate change. This piece of ancient ice, shaped over centuries, melts quickly in human hands—both literally and symbolically. In this moment, I wanted to capture the beauty and transience of our natural world, and the silent urgency it holds. The stark contrast between the frozen purity of the ice and the warming hands that hold it is a quiet reflection on human impact. We hold nature in our hands, but will we protect it, or let it slip away?
By Lei Gao
This photograph was taken at the foot of the Tasman Glacier in New Zealand, where a block of glistening ice rests on a rock, separated from the massive glacier behind it. While visually serene, this scene holds a deeper meaning—the ice once part of a mighty glacier, now lies detached, slowly melting. It serves as a quiet testimony to the relentless retreat of glaciers due to climate change. The clarity of the ice reveals its ancient purity, now threatened by the warming climate. This image invites reflection on how our daily choices, industrial activities, and carbon footprint are slowly reshaping these fragile, remote places. The vanishing ice is a symbol of both beauty and warning.
By Lei Gao
The Tasman Glacier in New Zealand, once one of the most magnificent glaciers in the Southern Alps, is now retreating at an alarming rate. This photograph offers a comprehensive view of its current state, where large meltwater lakes have formed at its terminal edge. The stillness captured in the image does not signify peace, but rather a silent protest against environmental imbalance. As a “barometer” of climate change, the glacier’s retreat signals not only the loss of a natural wonder, but also serves as a stark reminder of how deeply human activity is reshaping the Earth’s climate system.
By Lei Gao
The Belfast Hills, consisting of Slievenacloy, Colin Glen, Divis and the Black Mountain, Ligoniel, Cave Hill and Carnmoney Hill, are iconic features of the city’s wider landscape shaping the skyline and playing a central role in community identities. ‘Hill Pictures’ documents the long-term conservation of the hills and our interaction with them. Collaborating with the Belfast Hills Partnership and the National Trust, Polly Garnett led five photographic workshops on Divis, Black Mountain and Cave Hill. Polly is a Belfast-based photographer, community artist, and educator. She works on long-term projects and commissions with a socially engaged and participatory approach, using photography as a tool for dialogue and creative expression. Alongside her freelance work, she facilitates arts and environmental education projects, encouraging children and young people to connect with their landscapes and histories in new ways. She is a member of the Women Photograph Database.
By Polly Garnett
Alchemic is a series of unique lumen prints of primarily birds that have been killed on the roads around where I live. These animals that live quietly around us and add to our lives in so many ways have to deal with increasing amounts of human technology, speed and lack of noticing while simply living their lives on the planet we all share. I wanted to honour them through cameraless photography.
By Kit Martin
The Brasillian Burrowing Owl living by a suburban beach and traying to survive in a new and changing environment .
By Louise Knaresborough LRPS
The Last Bird Song series explore the effects of environmental damage told through three motifs - the bird, the leafless tree and the fallen leaf. They become something more than symbols. They are witnesses. They are warnings. They are reminders of what still exists, and what may soon not and what we lose when memory replaces presence. These works are post-anthropocene - what will we paint when there are no trees or birds left to observe?
By Shamani Surendran
By Shamani Surendran
By Shamani Surendran
An imagined environment, created temporarily in a local wood, where the human litter still has colour but nature had faded.
By Rosalind Lowry
By Rosalind Lowry
A temporary kinetic installation on a contested bogland in County Tyrone, Ireland. A tribute to one of the many species of plants that are now endangered because of the commercial extraction of peat.
By Rosalind Lowry
