What impact could stories have? You’ve heard it said, “the pen is mightier than the sword”. Is a story so incendiary to ignite deep and long-lasting social change? The evidence certainly seems to indicate so. The power of storytelling has been harnessed with great effectiveness in numerous cases through the past. Some cases inspire us. Others sober.
One particularly positive example of the power of storytelling lies in the not-very-distant past.
The Revolution in the Living Room
Welcome to the turbulent ’60s.
The winds of social change are blowing and the streets are filled with proud Americans exercising 1st Amendment rights. Anti-war protests are shaking university campuses, young Americans are hunting the communists in a desperate jungle game of cat and mouse, and black Americans are standing (or sitting) for their rights.
And the television cameras are capturing it all.
What was unimaginable twenty years before is now possible. A white middle-class family in Connecticut can watch the civil rights revolution play out from the comfort of their living room. No bus fare to Georgia needed.
The Reverend Dr. King himself understood the special advantages of the times. The visionary reformer possessed “a keen sense of drama, the use of celebrity, and television’s desire for villains and heroes” [source]. He and the organizers of the movement understood that flashing images on a screen would bite harder than words on a page. Especially when it came to police crackdowns, wild dogs, and firehoses.
In those moments, the power of journalism transcended the simple reporting of facts. It told a story of injustice–and the people who doggedly marched against it.
Upstream, Downstream
The drama of the civil rights revolution, displayed viscerally through the television and the photographer’s camera, didn’t remain a merely cultural phenomenon. Watching the horror of injustice and oppression from their sofas, Americans across the country began to pay attention to the issues in the Jim Crow south. Public opinion shifted. When it came time to elect a president in 1964, the issue of civil rights was central. And LBJ’s landslide victory made it clear which side was winning the public’s minds–and more importantly, hearts.
Late conservative thinker Andrew Breitbart will be remembered for his insistence that “politics is downstream from culture.” That is, the public opinion that drives political and social change, is in turn driven by the stories we collectively tell and listen to.
Consider this much more recent example from Albert Mohler. The long road to the legalization of gay marriage didn’t start in a capitol building or a town hall. It started in tv studios, writer’s desks and in the womb of effective storytellers.
Sadly, Christians have abdicated the role of “storyteller” to those who, oftentimes, don’t share our biblical values. We have neglected to recognize the critical role that stories play in our culture and thus in our policy. We have armed ourselves with critical thinking and public action but we’re missing an important tool in our belt: stories.
We are aware of this, particularly in the issue of the sanctity of life. We are not wrestling with rational arguments or medical science. We are fighting the current of a pithy narrative on one hand and the pit of public apathy on the other.
The Three Appeals
In the art (science?) of rhetoric, there are three appeals that one can make to advance one’s position. As pro-life Christians, we have excelled at two in particular. But one, perhaps the most effective, presents a great opportunity for more growth.
Logos
Logos is the appeal to the head. It is logic and rationale. It is arguments systematically laid out and clearly articulated. It speaks to our inner “scientist”. The pro-life movement has no lack of logos. The medical evidence supports the pro-life position. Our moral arguments are simultaneously simply straightforward and completely comprehensive. There are ranks upon ranks of brilliant thinkers and communicators who can defend the pro-life position with a mountain of evidence and formidable philosophy.
Ethos
Ethos is the appeal to the eyes. It persuades from its own character and its own credibility. It says, “look at me, my actions, my track record; and believe me.” Ethos utilizes the power of context, perception, and patterns. It speaks to the “historian” in all of us. Examples of effective ethos in the pro-life community would include the countless pregnancy resource centers (PRCs) that demonstrate the validity of the pro-life position through their actions everyday. Driven by compassion, these organizations reinforce the strength of pro-life claims by demonstrating the powerful character of the movement.
Pathos
Pathos is the appeal to the heart. It is the emotional appeal. Often manipulated and overdone, it is an essential appeal to make nonetheless. Pathos touches the “artist” that resides in the human spirit. It gives us chills when re-listening to Reverend Dr. King recount his dreams on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. It burns us to move our hands and feet. It screams the cries of the downtrodden and marginalized at us, sitting on our ’60s sofas.
And it’s been utilized very effectively by those on the left. In fact, the left has pushed pathos in just about every battle they’ve engaged in.
Gun reform? Emotional appeal. Abortion? Emotional appeal. Economic justice and wealth redistribution? Emotional appeal. Immigration? Emotional appeal. Environmental policy? You guessed it…emotional appeal.
That’s not to say that there is no legitimate logos or ethos backing up (some of) those arguments. I simply point out the incredible dexterity with which the left uses story and pathos to promote their positions.
Science, History, & Art
There is a spectrum of subjectivity that exists. Science, history and art all lie along the spectrum. But we need them all. In fact, art often speaks to us more than science or history ever could. “The cold hard facts” and the consistent patterns and context of the world around us seldom drive landslide victories like the one of 1964. It’s the stories that do that.
A Thrilling Opportunity
The narrative of the “war on women” doesn’t need to be grounded in reality to be effective. And we know that from experience. The pro-life position is favored with the power of medical evidence, moral arguments, and enhanced credibility from the consistent character of individuals. What it lacks is a powerful story, a potent culture. We have room, in fact a need, for compelling storytellers to utilize every available channel and medium to tell the story of the pro-life movement. We need storytellers who will share the triumphs of brave mothers who have chosen life for their children and the hopeful stories of the impact those rescued children have on their world. We need storytellers to invade American living rooms once again and demonstrate that abortion isn’t a “necessary” evil, but rather a violent one.
Thankfully, there are already some in the movement that are pursuing pathos. (I’m looking at you Gosnell and Unplanned.)
What a thrilling opportunity. Before us stands the chance (and challenge) to master our creative crafts and spread redemptive stories of hope, while shedding light on a dark practice.
The void beckons. Almost taunts.
Will you fill it?