Insights into talesmanship from a recent study of political psychology
Today online I read an interesting analysis of why people vote the way they do. The particular starting-off point was the question: Why do people vote Republican when it is against their economic interests to do so? And why can’t the Democrats win votes from these people? I recommend the article, which is online, so far, at: http://www.edge.org/discourse/vote_morality.html.
Here in an oversimplified nutshell is the conclusion:
People who prefer the Republican world-view are in need of a simple, black-and-white, good-and-evil reading of the world. The Republican politicians offer such a reading. It is a comfort to be told what to believe, as it spares one the trouble of thinking. Moreover, consideration of subtle distinctions, and the notion that the world is a palette of shades of gray, where there are no ‘good guys’ and ‘bad guys’ can be unsettling, and lead to anxieties. But it is precisely to escape from such anxieties that many people seek shelter in the communal, agreed-upon notion of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ with simple, easily-understood tools to mete out justice to both.
This conclusion reminded me of something that J.R.R. Tolkien once wrote. I believe it was in his essay, ‘On Fairy-tales’ and the line concerned the frightful deaths, often accompanied by torture, that witches and ogres met at the end of the tales of the Brothers Grimm. Professor Tolkien wrote that whereas parents and other grownups were shocked at the brutality of these endings, the children loved them:
“For children, being innocent, love justice; but we grownups, being sinners, crave mercy.”
Joining these two notions, we derive the general thesis that Republicans are innocent, and seek justice (by which they never mean social or economic justice, but rather the stern and severe punishment of the guilty) – and that Democrats are sinners, and crave mercy (for themselves, and for others as well).
Lay aside any ideas we have of preference for conservative or liberal camps.
Let us go on, then, to explore this as it might pertain to talesmanship and audiences.
We can stretch things and divide ourselves as audiences into two ‘parties’ – the ‘Republican’ and the ‘Democrat’ audiences.
The ‘Republican’ audience seeks justice, assurance that there is good and evil in the world, that good will prevail, and will wreak a frightful punishment upon the evil. This last, I believe is a crucial point: there seems to be (in the political world of today’s America at least) a real desire, even a lust, to relish the pain and suffering of our ‘enemies.’ For this audience, it isn’t enough for the hero and heroine to join together in happiness at tale’s end. But they must see the villain and villainess cast down, tormented, tortured, maimed, and killed – or at least so wholly damaged that there need be never again anything to be feared from such as them.
The ‘Democrat’ audience, on the other hand, is more interested in what we might call soap opera or tales of human drama. The hero and heroine have their flaws, the villain and villainess have their virtues, and in the words of Jean Renoir (I believe it is in Les Regles du Jeu) ‘Everyone has his reasons.’ This audience is, I suspect, less interested in the outcome of the plot, and more interested in the process of moving towards this outcome. Indeed, probably this audience considers any ‘outcome’ as an outdated concept; for them there is no ‘end’ to any tale, merely a finishing-up point dictated by practical considerations.
For the ‘Republican’ audience, the world at tale’s start is in balance and (for the most part) good; then comes a Disturbance, and Evil afflicts the hero; the hero struggles strives and does battle with the Evil that lays behind the Disturbance, until he vanquishes it, casts it down utterly and forever, and resumes the wholesome, healthy balance that prevailed once upon a time – indeed, by tale’s end the hero has won to a greater, higher level of happiness than he had at tale’s start.
But for the ‘Democrat’ audience, the world at tale’s end is fraught with unease, or at least longing. The hero might well be an anti-hero who wants what he ought not have; he might gain what he wanted, and lose what he needed; he might win his heart’s desire only to fine it wasn’t what he wanted after all; the end might be ironic, and will at least be mixed – as mixed as the start. At most, the hero will gain some measure of wisdom, though it may well be bitter-sweet. But the audience will be mostly interested in the state of unbalance, and enjoy the various motives and cross-currents in the events, that subtly shift the balance back and forth.
I offer no praise for either camp here (at least I hope that I don’t). This was more in the nature of an exploration of what these two ‘parties’ of audiences might consist of, if we marry the political psychologists’ ideas with that of Professor Tolkien, and apply the result to a theory of audience and talesmen.
(Composed on keyboard Tuesday 9 September 2008)
