Characters in Political Storytelling

IntroductionMany of stories that are most effective in politics are not told. Instead, they are alluded to. A politician might refer to the Horatio Alger story, assuming that his audience knows that his point is about importance of pulling oneself up by one's bootstraps. His audience is already familiar with story: A young man raises himself from humble beginnings by dint of his hard work and virtuous character. Or perhaps audience is not familiar with actual story. Perhaps they think that Horatio Alger is a fictional character, or even a real one, rather than author of a series of rags-to-riches novels. But they know that there is a story and that story's moral is about self-help.The fact that people often confuse author Horatio Alger with protagonist of stories he wrote reflects fact that we know many stories by their main characters. Conservatives who fought to cut on grounds that poor people were taking advantage of government handouts in 1990s did not refer to Welfare Exploitation Story. They referred to welfare queens. The 2011 Occupy movement did not tell a story about risky investments, collusive bank rating practices, and government austerity; it pitted percent against Over years, politicians have referred mordantly to the silent majority, and Street lobbyists (Loseke describes other characters in politics). Sometimes story's protagonist is us; sometimes it is them, but line between us and them is clear. We are silent majority or 99 percent. We are threatened by teenage mothers, anchor babies, climate-change deniers, K Street lobbyists, and 1 percent. The line between us may not be one of enmity: Teenage mothers, like at-risk youth, may be invoked to call for compassion and efforts to help. The politician who styles herself a maverick calls up images of a principled loner, willing to defy convention for sake of principle and resolutely indifferent to inside Beltway political strategists.Why are characters so effective politically? Probably in part because, as they call up multiple stories, of people real and fictional, who are different in many ways but alike in their common heroism, villainy, or-as example above suggests-political independence. Characters are surely effective also because they are so central to how we read stories. Recent research suggests not only that stories are more persuasive than arguments but also that key mechanism is one of identification (de Graaf et al.; Hoeken and Fikkers). We adopt views of characters with whom we identify, and we identify with characters who are presented sympathetically. Politically, it is characters, rather than events in which they appear, who win us over.Yet we also have plenty of examples of political actors falling flat when they have tried to style themselves as heroes or martyrs or their opponents as villains or frauds. Think of vice presidential candidate Lloyd Bentsen's famous put-down of his counterpart Dan Quayle when latter likened himself to a beloved former president: I knew Jack Kennedy. Jack was a friend of mine. Senator, you're no Jack Kennedy (Clayman 120).When are political groups and actors able to use characters to advance their cause? Surely, rhetorical skill counts for something, as well as luck. But we should also be able to identify features of context and actors in it that give some an advantage in creating compelling characters. We should be able to tell whether anyone can be turned into a hero and when victims elicit a desire to act rather than pity or blame. We should be able to assess just how sticky collective memories of particular historical figures are. We should be able to identify hurdles that are involved in turning a villain into a hero or a hero into a fraud in public imagination. …