What Is Pornominero?
Pornominero refers to exploitative portrayals of miners—especially artisanal and smallscale miners—in overly dramatic, often dehumanizing ways. It’s similar in tone to terms like “poverty porn,” where suffering is served up to elicit emotion, usually for clicks, campaigns, or policy changes.
You’ve probably seen it: a tired man covered in dust, holding a chunk of gold, surrounded by a backdrop of bleak conditions. It looks authentic but is often filtered through lenses that emphasize hardship, danger, or dramatic tension without context. And while it might be effective in communicating urgency, it rarely includes the voices or agency of the miners themselves.
The problem is, once a miner’s story becomes fuel for someone else’s agenda, the miner loses control of the narrative. That’s what critics of pornominero are pushing back against.
The Power of Narrative in Mining
Media has always played a big role in shaping how the public and policymakers view industries. In mining, stories influence laws, funding, and industry partnerships. So when the dominant narrative about smallscale mining is based on pity, danger, and chaos, it can skew how solutions are designed.
Governments and donors often react to this narrative not with collaborative development, but with policing or exclusion. Instead of helping miners formalize and improve their operations, policies end up restricting or criminalizing them.
Now ask: who benefits from this?
Corporate mining companies, for one. The scarier the image of smallscale mining, the more legitimate big mining looks, even though environmental degradation, displacement, and corruption happen on all scales.
Real Miners, Real Impact
The truth? Smallscale mining is complex. It’s a livelihood for millions. It fuels local economies. Yes, it has risks. Yes, it needs oversight. But it also has potential when properly supported.
In regions like Madre de Dios (Peru) or Chocó (Colombia), miners aren’t waiting for rescue. They’re trying to organize, increase sustainability, and get fair prices for their minerals. But too often, they struggle against the image painted by pornominero—images that make them seem like problems, not partners.
Their voices are rarely heard. Instead, thirdparty narratives dominate, often crafted by people who’ve never been underground or negotiated with a local cooperative. That’s a gap that needs fixing.
Reclaiming the Lens
So, what’s the alternative? It’s not about hiding the real conditions of mining—it’s about balance and respect. Let miners lead in telling their own stories. Introduce the full context: the economy, the community, the resilience.
Several grassroots media projects and mining cooperatives are starting to do just that. They document their own work, share success stories, and create content that captures the complexity without exploiting it.
NGOs and researchers can play a role here too—by acting as amplifiers, not directors. That means sharing platforms, resources, and decisionmaking power. If you’re going to show a miner’s face in a video or photo, it should be with purpose, consent, and shared benefit.
Why It Matters Now
Mining is surging again, especially with high demand for lithium, gold, and rare earths. Everyone wants “clean” supply chains, but real sustainability starts with transparency and respect. Campaigns built on pornominero fail that test. They undermine the very people who could make mining cleaner and fairer.
If international agencies, governments, and companies want to build ethical sourcing programs, they first have to understand the damage of narrative exploitation. That begins with dropping assumptions, listening more, and showing the full reality—including progress, innovation, and leadership within these communities.
Moving Forward from Pornominero
Change won’t happen overnight. But here’s what can help:
Elevate community media: Help miners tell their stories themselves. Fund local broadcasters, writers, and video creators. Challenge sensational journalism: Resist clickbait. Push for balanced, evidencebased reporting on mining. Insist on ethical visuals: Photos and videos should be taken with consent and context, not staged drama. Support grassroots advocacy: Back local organizations that are already fighting against exploitative narratives. Build respectful partnerships: If you’re working in mining spaces, frameworks should be cocreated, not handed down.
Conclusion
The damage of pornominero is more than aesthetic—it’s strategic. It shifts power away from the miners who need it most. It simplifies a complex industry into digestible pain for fundraising or headlines. And it stalls meaningful change by casting miners as passive victims instead of active agents.
We don’t need sanitized stories. We need real ones—shared with dignity, informed by locals, and free of manipulation. Because ethical mining doesn’t start in a lab or a corporate office. It starts with listening, and it starts with respect.
