Month: January 2014

SMR Through A Looking Glass

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If there is one idea that Cox and Foust make clear in The SAGE Handbook of Rhetorical Studies it is the idea that exacting a universal definition for Social Rhetoric is difficult. Cox and Foust systematically work through five different lenses through which one can analyze social movements namely,
(1) early studies of SMR
(2) rethinking the figure of “social movements”: New Social Movements (NSM) and counterpublics
(3) performing resistance: bodies, images, and public screens
(4) democracy, representation, and new modalities of social dissent
(5) continuing challenges for the study of SMR

While Cox and Foust do not provide a succinct definition for social movements at the end of their paper, I do not think this is because defining social rhetoric is an impossible feat. I do however think forming a definition would be complex and would require unconventional methods. Instead of defining social movements based on components of SMR, could it be more beneficial to form a definition by analyzing social movements as an inseparable unit?

 

We can think of analyzing social movements in terms of telescopes and kaleidoscopes. Cox and Foust suggest a telescope approach. They suggest looking at each component of SMR separately. They look at each component of SMR separately and intently—replacing one lens on the table before picking up another. A kaleidoscope perspective on the other hand is similar to the ideas that Griffin suggests.

http://shoutitforlife.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/Kaleidoscope.jpg

Instead of viewing SMR as a series of subcategories, we can imagine SMR as a unit—each of the five subcategories blend together seamlessly—as in a kaleidoscope. Each category overlaps the next and are indistinguishable from one another.  The different components of the social movement combine to create an altogether unique image.

Through this looking glass we are able to see the relationships between theories—both how they overlap and where they differ—and we are also able to develop a universal analysis of a single movement.—an analysis that speaks to not one or a few social theories, but one that responds to each instance of SMR simultaneously.

The theory that captures this idea most closely is the idea of Dramatism as discussed in class. In the same vein as the idea of a kaleidoscope analysis, Griffin suggests that “to study a movement is to study a progress, a rhetorical striving.” The Cox and Foust piece goes on to say “This rhetorical striving was “a progress from… a ‘suffering, misfortune, passive condition…,’ through ‘a deed… action, act,’ to an ‘adequate idea; the thing learned.’” In Griffin’s view, to study a movement was “to study a drama, an Act of transformation, an Act that ends in transcendence, the achievement of salvation (Cox 9).”

The recent movement headed by First Lady Barack Obama will be a useful example for this model. Conventionally this movement could be analyzed in terms of its history, how it differs from previous social movements, whether or not it is democratic, and etc. the list goes on.

However, when this movement is analyzed kaleidoscopically, or theatrically as Griffin suggests, we see the movement as a whole– a dynamic movement. It’s origin as is analyzed in (1) of Cox and Foust’s piece, are rooted in the alarming rates of childhood obesity however its origins are also rooted in (3) public screens and (4) democracy. A compartmentalized way of analyzing SMR doesn’t account for such overlap. SMR is a drama —a unit which we can compare and contrast to the universal strife and victory—or dissolution—of all social movements.

 

Citations:

Cox, Robert, and Christina R. Foust. “32 Social Movement Rhetoric.” The SAGE Handbook of Rhetorical Studies. Thousand Oaks: SAGE Publications, 2009. 605-28. Web.

Obama, Michelle. “Let’s Move!” Let’s Move! U.S. Department of Health & Human Services, n.d. Web. 24 Jan. 2014.

Cox and Faust Covered it; Now where do we go from here?

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In their article “32 Social Movement Rhetoric,” Robert Cox and Christina R. Faust trace the changes in the theory and practice of rhetoric carried out in social movements over time. Though incomplete due to the constantly changing nature of technology and available rhetorical methods in today’s society,  this article provides a useful framework for beginning rhetoricians to reference. The way in which the article summarizes and puts into perspective several early texts that focus on very specific perspectives, like Griffin’s “neo-Aristotelian standards of rhetoric, reason, and persuasion,” and Simon’s leader centered approach, helps the reader to arrive at a place where he or she can view social movements with a critical eye, and ask which techniques are in play. The reader can then take this a step further and ask questions like “which methods may allow social movements more success than others, and how can I tell?”

The history, terminology and concepts that Cox and Faust give us to work with are split into categories within the article:

  1. early studies of SMR
  2. rethinking the figure of  “social movements”: New Social Movements
  3. democracy, representation, and new modalities of social dissent
  4. performing resistance: bodies, images, and public screens;
  5. continuing challenges for the study of SMR

 

The article covers a lot of material and history, but I think an important point that Cox and Faust make is the fact that the majority, if not all, of the history of social movements has been studied through a Western lens. I think because of this, the tendency is to believe that other countries are experiencing what Americans have already experienced due to the perception that we are more technologically advanced or have been through more social change, but it is important to really question what can be learned from these international social movements. Do the cultural differences have a significant impact on the way that the social movements are carried out? If so, what does it mean when American groups like Anonymous become heavily involved in international social movements such as the recent revolutions in theMiddle East. Does this ability to more easily gain critical mass because of increased usage of social media make social movements more effective than they were in the past? Or does the concept that Gladwell spoke about in his article “Small Change, Why The Revolution Will Not Be Tweeted.”  in which ‘computer activists’ help to create real violence from the comfort and security of their couch actually have a negative impact.

In Rebecca Solnit’s article “The Butterfly and the Boiling Point: Charting the Wild Winds of Change in 2011” she attempts to identify the beginning of revolutions from the past and more recently. What she finds is that the beginning is impossible to track. Revolutions such as the Egyptian revolution seem to have been aided by the abilities that the participants gained from social media to plan protests. Solnit makes the point however, that social media was around long before the revolution started. Evidence like this suggests that if people are angry enough, they will have a revolution – social media or not.

I tend to think that this new ability that people have to gain critical mass and get people excited about specific social movements will result in an increased ability to affect global change once people learn to harness the power properly. History shows that humans have adapted to the tools around them and learned to use them in efficient ways. Only time will tell if this digital and technological change in social movements will follow the same pattern.

Works Cited

Solnit, Rebecca. “The Butterfly and the Boiling Point: Charting the Wild Winds of Change in 2011.” The Huffington Post. TheHuffingtonPost.com,21 Mar. 2011. Web.30 Jan. 2014. <http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rebecca-solnit/middle-east-revolutions_b_838461.html>.

 

Cox and Foust: Unanswered Questions and an Indefineable Definition

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Last week when discussing Cox and Foust’s piece on Social Movement Rhetoric, we briefly discussed the use of television and internet as sources of social organization and modes of perception. Cox and Foust correlate this new use of technology to a shift in communication, in particular globalized communication.  Our main source of communication and congregation beginning in the 21st century, has been via technological devices.  The internet is used for everything from paying the bills to organizing pages against or for different causes.

 In terms of social movements on the internet, there are a lot of unanswered questions and debate. Cox and Foust ask us in the article if a physical presence of protestors is “enough” to be considered resistance.  When applying this to digital activism what exactly would you call physical presence? Because in my opinion, physical presence has to involve actually being in one place of congregation together as a unit.  Your physical body must be there, and that isn’t possible on the internet.  Thus, is there a different definition of physical presence for digital activism/resistance.  Perhaps physical presence (as it appears online) could be defined as being affectively involved in the social movement.  One must not only be a member, but an active member?  I place a question mark at the end of that sentence because I want to leave this open for interpretation and think it is a great question to ask.  It is amazing to me just how much technology affects social movements and resistance and it is just as attention grabbing for Cox and Foust:

 “We expect the study of SMR will continue to broaden its scope and modes of analysis as groups make use of new communication technologies and other “new routes of power” (Best, 2005). As these studies unfold, we note two challenges for SMR scholars: ( 1) a more systematic analysis of non-Western movements and perspectives, and (2) an effort to theorize more explicitly the effects of social movement or “resistant” rhetorics” (620).

 In class, my group used the guilt redemption cycle to analyze the Non- GMO project.  In conclusion, we decided that a majority of the participants in the project are using victimization to blame others for choices that they are making.  Instead of choosing to just not buy the GMO products, they are blaming the U.S. government for even allowing the production of products containing GMOs.  Additionally, I am interested in how much “physical” presence the Non-GMO project accumulates.  By the looks of the webpage there seem to be small protests that occur at specific locations, but as far as presence for the members there isn’t much. As a member you can buy your own non-GMO cookbook, and get a list of non-gmo products to shop for, but there isn’t an “resistance”.  Without the presence of resistance I am unsure of whether this can be categorized as a social movement.

The group seems to be promoting the idea that change is necessary and that the government has a responsibility that they need to acknowledge and act upon.  This is an internet social movement that has slight consumerism undertones.  The whole website is devoted to buying items, not really protesting items or ideas.  This idea of consumerism and social movements is something we also brought up in class when talking about Breast Cancer Awareness.  Is the underlying cause and purpose of digital activism and some social movements consumerism?  To be a part of something there often is a member fee.  To really feel like they are really a part of the movement, many people buy the products that advertise the movement or support its cause.

As I think about all we have talked about in class and what I have written here, I come to the realization that I am really interested in the definition of social movements, digital activism, and resistance.  And if it doesn’t fit these scholarly definitions, then can I still define it as such?  Cox and Foust bring up an excellent point about assuming the “identities” and “”beingness” of social movements:

“A principal focus in these debates was an assumption of early SMR scholars that movements were already-constituted entities, with empirical identities, stages of development, strategies, and so on. Against this, McGee ( 1980) insisted movements are not observable, knowable “things”; instead, the concept “movement” is “a set of meanings” (p. 233), an analogy, “comparing the flow of social facts to physical movements” (pp. 236-237). Positing that movements exist prior to rhetoric, McGee charged, reduces rhetoric to a “passive, reactive … facilitator of change, subordinate to and determined by an objective phenomenon” (p. 242). Alternatively, critics should explore “changes in patterns of discourse directly” (p. 243), echoing Griffin’s (1952) call to analyze changes in the “pattern of public discussion” (p. 185).” (610)

After exploring the archives today, I think studying the comparison of “social facts to physical movements” would be an interesting path to take.  With the access to pages of information on demonstrations of campus, campus paperwork, presidential documents, etc and the images of physical demonstrations and resistance I can study the changes in pattern in public discussion and action.

Works Cited

COX, R., & FOUST, C. (2009). Social movement rhetoric. In A. Lunsford, K. Wilson, & R. Eberly (Eds.), The sage handbook of rhetorical studies. (pp. 604-628). Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE Publications, Inc.

Anonymous and its Elusive Purpose

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Much of our class discussion has revolved around the definition of “success” in the context of a social movement. How is it defined, and thereby how do we know when it is achieved? The question is resounding when one examines the “internet collective” Anonymous (Quinn). Yes, we may consider Anonymous successful in shedding light on and waging protest against travesties of justice like the Steubenville rape case and gross displays of intolerance like the Westboro Baptist Church’s picketing of funerals, but can we define it as a social movement and if so, a successful one? Again, we harken back to my initial point: how do we define success? “Success” to me implies, simply, a completion of ones goals. So, to determine the success of Anonymous, we must distinguish its goals.

We discussed in class the unique ability of Anonymous to have blatant failures—the FBI capture of one of its leaders, for example—and yet still remain an active social movement (if one can call it that). It seemed the class agreed that the reason for its continued activity despite its evident “micro-failures” was a lack of “macro-purpose.” It is acceptable to fail at one individual protest or event if the only goal is to continue to take on individual protests, rather than to contribute to one grander social movement. That is, if the purpose of an organization rests only in the compartmentalized goals of successfully protesting selected injustices, then a failure to successfully protest one of these injustices has a negligible impact on the overall purpose. Compare this to a movement like the Abolitionist movement: the purpose of the Abolitionist Movement was to abolish slavery. Goals would have been individualized steps toward the overall purpose, such that the incompletion of one goal could collapse the entire movement. To use a loose example, If the Underground Railroad had been completely shut down, the movement could have collapsed, whereas, had Anonymous been unsuccessful in bringing to light the injustice of Stuebenville in December of 2012, there would likely have been negligible impact on the Million Masks March Protest in November of 2013.

 

Although I initially agreed and contributed to the distinction made in class between Anonymous and other groups who had a more concrete overall purpose, I would like to amend my initial argument. Anonymous does have a purpose, just one that is quite different than that of most other social movements. The purpose of Anonymous is not to gain rights for one specific people like the Women’s Suffrage Movement, or to end a war or conflict like the Anti-War protests in the Vietnam era. The purpose of Anonymous does not rest in its individual goals of addressing these injustices, but in bringing “government accountability and transparency” (Harkinson). Anonymous cannot simply collapse because of one failed protest because there are so many injustices to be illuminated. Anonymous’ purpose is not all or nothing. In essence, they have little to lose by a failed attempt, as there will always be more injustices at their disposal.

Even in a time of growing political distrust and unease, we often like to look upon our government with eyes full of idealism and hope for the fair, democratic system upon which we were founded and the leaders we have elected and in whom placed our trust. Yet, social politics can still impact justice. Social pressures through a small-town culture revolving around football gods in Steubenville, Ohio led to the neglect of a rape case that was clearly documented and discussed rampantly throughout social media. Anonymous played a heavy role in unveiling this cover-up and mobilizing justice for the victim. As a result, an Anonymous leader Derik Lostutter, AKA  KYAnonymous, was arrested by the FBI. “Lostutter believes that the FBI investigation was motivated by local officials in Steubenville. ‘They want to make an example of me, saying, ‘You don’t fucking come after us. Don’t question us’” (Harksinson.) Anonymous’ purpose is an endless cycle: injustices will always be there to uncover, and this uncovering may lead to further injustices upon the very individuals who have worked to bring justice.

 

Works Cited

Harkinson, Josh. “Exclusive: Leader of Anonymous Steubenville Op on Being Raided by the FBI.” Mother Jones. Mother Jones, 6 June 2013. Web. 30 Jan. 2014. <http://www.motherjones.com/politics/2013/06/kyanonymous-fbi-steubenville-raid-anonymous>.

Norton, Quinn. “How Anonymous Picks Targets, Launches Attacks, and Takes Powerful Organizations Down.” Wired.com. Conde Nast Digital, 03 July 2012. Web. 29 Jan. 2014. <http://www.wired.com/threatlevel/2012/07/ff_anonymous/>.

Digital Activism and Social Capital: A Reflection on Gladwell

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At the heart of every social movement is a series of connections. While it may only take one voice to ignite a change, a movement, a revolution, connections are essential to channeling this spark throughout the masses. In his article “Small Change, Why the Revolution Will Not Be Tweeted,” Malcolm Gladwell argues that the strength of these connections composes the strength of the movement as a whole. The social ties of those participating in a movement of digital activism seem negligible when juxtaposed with Gladwell’s example of the Greensboro Four, who relied on their deep connections of friendship and trust to combat the certain risk of their form of activism. Gladwell’s argument rests upon the notion that quality is far more important than quantity when discussing social connections and their link to activism.

In his book, Bowling Alone, Robert Putnam examines a perceived decline in civic engagement within the context social capital. Social capital

refers to connections among individuals—social networks and the norms of reciprocity and trustworthiness that arise from them. In that sense social capital is closely related to what some have called “civic virtue.” The difference is that “social capital” calls attention to the fact that civic virtue is most powerful when embedded in a dense network of reciprocal social relations. (Putnam, Kindle Locations 152-155)

Bowling Alone is abundant with examples of studies indicative of the increased civic participation of communities with high social capital—that is, simply, communities in which citizens regularly engage with one another and look out for one another with the expectation that this service will be repaid in kind.

Let us examine digital versus “traditional” activism in terms of social capital. Putnam addresses the Prisoner’s Dilemma, or Free-Rider problem, as a serious deterrent to the resolution of collective problems. Although a community may benefit more as a whole if each individual were to, say, pay 5% more in taxes to allow for better technology in schools, were this tax presented as an option rather than a mandate we could reasonably expect that the vast amount of individuals would opt out of paying as they would assume others would bear the burden. These same ideas can be viewed within the context of social movements. Although an individual may feel a connection to a particular cause, he or she may refrain from actively advocating for it on the assumption that someone else will or already is doing so.

On the contrary, when individuals possess high levels of social capital within their community, it is assumed that the norms of reciprocity would encourage their participation in the tax program. Examining a smaller but not insignificant social movement, the Vermont Workers’ Center organized a campaign based on the experiences of workers within the state, collected from one-on-one interactions and hotline phone calls (Rudiger 3). Those who volunteered their stories built bonding capital (stronger, more personal) with one another and the organization, and developed connections within their community that revolved around the particular cause of developing a universal healthcare system. Therefore, they were more inclined to participate in a cause that not only impacted them, but their fellow community members as well.

Digital activism provides a unique,Catch-22 solution to the above problems. While digital activism allows for a more rapid spread of ideas regarding causes and movements, it also relies on the far weaker bridging capital than more traditional types of activism which can have the effect of “slacktivism,” where individuals profess dedication to a cause but do little to advance it. Additionally, and perhaps more importantly, digital activism provides an easy way out, a way to assuage our feelings of obligation toward particular causes while requiring minimal participation. Imagine how may times you’ve “liked” a page on Facebook because it showed up in your Newsfeed without ever having given any of your personal time to help advance that cause. Or consider the number of retweets a tweet from an organization like the Red Cross about donating to a relief fund will get in comparison to the actual number of people who donate. Yes, both of these acts of digital advocacy or activism are somewhat effective in increasing awareness of a particular issue, yet they also allow the participant to feel appeased by their rather insignificant contribution to a cause that, were it not for digital activism, they may have been moved to participate in in a more significant way.

Critics of Putnam assert that “the trend in declining [political engagement] among the young (2004 aside) can be interpreted as not a rejection of public life but a shift in the types of participation in which these citizens are engaging (Zukin et al., Kindle locations 278-279).” Perhaps an increase in digital participation, too, is not attached to a better or worse brand of activism, but only a different form that has developed in response to our changing society.

Works Cited

Putnam, Robert D. (2001-08-01). Bowling Alone (Kindle Locations 152-155). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

Rudiger, Anja. “Reviving Progressive Activism: A Case Study of Vermont’s Healthcare Is a Human Right Campaign – See More At: Http://www.nesri.org/resources/reviving-progressive-activism-a-case-study-of-vermont%E2%80%99s-healthcare-is-a-human-right-campaign#sthash.5lAH0Btx.dpuf.” NESRI. National Economics & Social Rights Initiative, Aug. 2011. Web. 22 Jan. 2014. <http://www.nesri.org/resources/reviving-progressive-activism-a-case-study-of-vermont’s-healthcare-is-a-human-right-campaign>.

Zukin, Cliff; Keeter, Scott; Andolina, Molly; Jenkins, Krista; Carpini, Michael X. Delli (2006-04-24). A New Engagement?: Political Participation, Civic Life, and the Changing American Citizen (Kindle Locations 278-279). Oxford University Press. Kindle Edition.

Gladwell: Right for the Wrong Reasons

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In his article “Small Change, Why the Revolution Will Not Be Tweeted,” Malcolm Gladwell tells us that the digital activism of the present generation is not strong enough to endure the real-world challenges commonly faced in activist movements. He claims that because social networks do not provide the same support as interpersonal relationships formed between friends and cohorts, they must be weaker. He translates this perceived weakness into a lack of any capability — claiming that “in the outsized enthusiasm for social media… we seem to have forgotten what activism is.”

He frames his perception of activism using the Greensboro Four, and their sit-in protests at the Woolworth’s lunch counter. He conjugates their social movement with the violence they encountered, true activism with real risk:

  • “Racial insubordination was routinely met with violence”
  • “The dangers were even clearer…”
  • “Activism that challenges the status quo…is not for the faint of heart”
  • “The civil-rights movement was high-risk activism” (Later in the piece)

He asks the question “What makes people capable of this kind of activism?” Or, to re-situate the question using his previous frame: What makes people take these illegal, violent, and life-threatening risks?

His answer? The participants’ “degree of personal connection to the… movement.”

Up to this point in his article, Gladwell has been fair in describing his own understanding of activism, and how it does or does not function in the digital age. Then he says (in reference to the personal connection needed for “real” activism) “The kind of activism associated with social media isn’t like this at all.”

In 2010, that claim could have been true. Today, (literally, today) it is not.

In the last 24 hours, protests in Kiev, Ukraine have escalated out of hand. From BBC News:

“At least two people are reported to have died in clashes between police and protesters in the Ukrainian capital Kiev in a third night of violence.

Police stormed barricades built by anti-government protestors in the central square.

Mass demonstrations began in November after President Viktor Yanukovych shunned closer ties with the European Union.

The latest violence was triggered by the introduction of new laws passed last week that criminalise [sic] protests, as Daniel Sandford reports from Kiev.”

To sum up: there have been mass protests in Kiev since November. Last week, the government banned protests, and now more people are protesting, and in turn, dying

You might ask, “Thomas, what does that have to do with *digital* activism?”

And I would show you the introduction to an article published not 20 hours ago (Tuesday, January 21st) by Brian Merchant:

“ ‘Dear subscriber, you are registered as a participant in a mass disturbance.’

That’s a text message that thousands of Ukrainian protesters spontaneously received on their cell phones today, as a new law prohibiting public demonstrations went into effect. It was the regime’s police force, sending protesters the perfectly dystopian text message to accompany the newly minted, perfectly dystopian legislation. In fact, it’s downright Orwellian (and I hate that adjective, and only use it when absolutely necessary, I swear).

But that’s what this is: it’s technology employed to detect noncompliance, to hone in on dissent. The NY Times reports that the “Ukrainian government used telephone technology to pinpoint the locations of cell phones in use near clashes between riot police officers and protesters early on Tuesday.” Near. Using a cell phone near a clash lands you on the regime’s hit list” (Emphasis added).

Ukraine’s protests, now under cellphone surveillance. Image: Wikimedia

So, what does this all mean?

In defining activism during class, we agreed that activism was primarily about affecting change. We said that as such, there is a hierarchy of activism. We are able to define the success of activism by the change achieved. However, if we do not want to define success, if we simply want to define activism, what scale do we use?

According to Gladwell, we use Risk. Which takes us back to Kiev.

In class, we discussed the possibility that Gladwell’s thesis doesn’t fit present models. Digital activism is not solely online anymore — the internet, social media, and cell phones have become tools for activists who are marching, side by side, in the streets.

It has also become a tool of exploitation for those, who, seeking more power in a battle against the powerless can turn off the internet, turn off your cell service, or pinpoint your precise protesting location. Brian Merchant says “All of this puts lie to the lately-popular mythology that technology is inherently a liberating force—with the right hack, it can oppress just as easily.”

Although we can say Gladwell was wrong, as we have seen the power of digital activism in the physical world — maybe he was right.

Maybe there is a weakness in utilizing a tool so easily manipulated by the oppressor. Maybe we shouldn’t just “Tweet the change that we wish to see in the world.” Maybe the revolution won’t be tweeted.

Sometimes, it can’t be.

 

Works Cited

Gladwell, Malcolm. “Small Change, Why The Revolution Will Not Be Tweeted.” The New Yorker. N.p., 4 Oct. 2010. Web. 19 Jan. 2014. <http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2010/10/04/101004fa_fact_gladwell?currentPage=all>.

Merchant, Brian. “Maybe the Most Orwellian Text Message a Government’s Ever Sent.” Motherboard. N.p., 21 Jan. 2014. Web. 22 Jan. 2014. <http://motherboard.vice.com/en_ca/blog/maybe-the-most-orwellian-text-message-ever-sent>.

“Ukraine: Police and Protesters Clash in Kiev.” BBC News. BBC, 22 Jan. 2014. Web. 22 Jan. 2014. <http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-25839446>.

One Ring (of skillful computer vigilantes) To Rule Them All

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What is Anonymous? Who is Anonymous? Where is Anonymous? After reading Quinn Norton’s series via www.wired.com on the history, ideology, and evolution of Anonymous, I am still unsure as to what it is; yes, I am not labeling Anonymous with the “they” pronoun.

Norton’s reporting on Anonymous does give way—with evidence—of a successful social movement in respect to Leland Griffin’s article on the determination of a cause and whether or not it has met set goals and tasks. In brief summary to the Anonymous series, Anonymous evolved from a group of pranksters to a group of protesters, while still engaging in their hacking and “prank-ing” roots. Now why did Anonymous shift their practices? Like all movements, one must adapt to its surroundings and Anonymous are no exception to this expression; in order to stay relevant in modern times, Anonymous had to enroll themselves in modern, relevant topics that the world actually cared about.

In their humble beginnings, Anonymous choose their first official victim to be the Church of Scientology, an organization seeded with deception, censorship, and bigotry. Anonymous saw the Church to be a false sense of information to thousands who practice the religion and exercised their powers and skill to have the Church debunked and cast away. Why did Anonymous solely target the Church of Scientology? Why not target other religious sects? It seems unclear (in their beginnings) who their targets were and why, but this reinforce the evidence in Norton’s article that over time, Anonymous found their niche and developed a sense of direction for their turmoil and confusion.

Akin to our discussion last week about social movements and whether or not they consciously or subconsciously elect a leader, Norton engages in the same discussion with Anonymous. In the fourth reading for Jan. 21, “How Anonymous Picks Targets, Launches Attacks, and Takes Powerful Organizations Down,” we hear from the mouth of the lion on the question of Anonymous’ leadership:

“Was it really just a speed bump? It was impossible to say for sure, because Sabu’s arrest cut to the heart of what Anonymous claimed to be, of how it claimed to organize itself.          Or, more accurately: its claim that it did not organize itself, that it had no leaders and yet       boasted participants so innumerable (“We are Legion,” as one of its popular slogans       blares) that no ten or hundred or thousand arrests could ever stop it. But in Sabu the FBI had nabbed an anon who was not easy to replace.” (Norton,             http://www.wired.com/threatlevel/2012/07/ff_anonymous/)
Even within Anonymous, who declare that they are a mass with no individual leader or group of, it reinforces the fact that every movement must have some guidance, some leadership. Let’s focus on the primary dealings of Anonymous (or what they have come to be known for): internet hacking. Now, within the organization of Anonymous, only a few individuals are responsible for initiating the hacking of targeted companies and their respect websites; not every member of Anonymous—the ones who claim their allegiance to it—have the knowledge and skills to hack into a secured server. Not only is this skill and knowledge available to a select few within the organization, the decisions the organization makes are privately made. A small faction within the organization may want Anonymous to hack the website of Toys R’ Us because they got kicked out for behaving immaturely at a store, but that doesn’t mean the “leaders” of Anonymous will agree to enact vengeance towards the retail store. The “leaders” focus their time and energy into worthy causes that they—the collective leaders and as well as the entire organization—feel are appropriate for Anonymous as a whole.

To wrap up my babbling, Quinn Norton’s article has really hit home the fact that every, Every, EVERY social movement, big or small, has a leader or group of. In the case of Anonymous, the leaders of it are a group of skillful computer vigilantes who do the majority of their work (damage) behind firewalls and command prompts, but broadcast themselves and their ethos in large masses behind Guy Fawkes masks.

One Leader to Rule Them All, Maybe?

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In “Requirements, Problems, and Stragies: A Theory of Persuasion for Social Movements”, Herbet Simons begins by introducing a number of problems that make analyzing social movements difficult (various audiences, large scope, multiple speakers, long durations, etc.). He suggests that rhetorical analysis tools aren’t well suited for this kind of analysis because social movements are too complex and large. Simons argues that Griffin’s structured approach to social movement rhetorical analysis is a starting point, but there needs to be more work done. To this, he offers his own rhetorical analysis stemming from “a leader-centered conception of persuasion in social movements” (33).

Simons then goes on to focus on the leader of the social movement and his [sic] rhetorical actions. Simons is interested in understanding why these leaders often engage in counterproductive practices. The leader of a social movement may need to counteract some of the extreme practices or messages from the larger social movement, to provide ideological statements to the social movement in order to funnel the organization’s energy into specific ways, to focus organization efforts efficiently through the hierarchical structure, to balance conflicting roles in terms of expectations and definitions (maintain structure and breaking with it), to adapt to multiple audiences, and to work together with other leaders in various positions (35-37). The leader is required to do a lot!  Simons then offers a range of leaders from the moderate to the militant based on their rhetorical strategies and tactics. These types of leaders have various affordances and drawbacks for the success of the social movement.

Simons’ focus on the leader of the social movement made me think about Nancy Welch’s argument in Living Room: Teaching Public Writing in a Privatized World. Welch’s overall claim is that public discourse has become increasingly more private; there are no longer spaces where citizens can speak and expect to actually influence policy decisions. Stemming from this is her argument that ethos is also being privatized. Ethos, or credibility, is being commodified, something that can be bought, and subsequently credibility or expert status are only available to a select few (generally middle to upper class, white, conservative, men). People who don’t have this ethos (by virtue of identity or credentials) are encouraged to stay quiet, to be apathetic or disinterested in political issues, or to see their vote as their only chance to be part of the political system. Welch questions this apathy, and through her work with an undergraduate class she encourages her students to reclaim their own ethos and act.

So when thinking about Simons and Welch together, I think that Welch would take issue with Simons’ analysis of the leaders of social movements. Although Simons does state that social movement rhetoric is complex and requires multiple views, the fact that he starts with the leader of the social movement suggests that he views this position as critical to analysis. This focus on the leader of the social movement may lead to the assumption that only great individuals are able to lead effective social movements. Simons’ examples of leaders include Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X, dynamic and powerful leaders. Even their presence seems to exude credibility. But focusing solely on the leaders neglects the larger community surrounding them, and this neglect may reinforce the power struggle that Welch is concerned about. (Think of the Greensboro Four, the NC A&T students who were credited with starting the Woolworth’s sit-ins. They were actually part of a large community network, and they were there with female students from local Bennett College as well as community leaders, but only the four men are memorialized). Why does history remember these powerful leaders? What makes them the experts or ethos embodied? Why are the women and other community members forgotten? I think Welch would argue this is an example of privatized ethos. Some people are recognized as having ethos based on their identities or credentials, and everyone else can stay home. I also think that Welch would take issue with Simons’ attention to the leader as it is an example of recruiting apathy. By focusing on the rhetorical acts of the few individual leaders, this form of analysis ignores the rhetorical acts of the many, including typically marginalized people, and this suggests that their contribution is somehow less meaningful.

After reading both these articles, I wonder how both Simons and Welch would address social movements that are decidedly anti-hierarchical. There were some feminist organizations who operated this way as a community without leaders, and I think the Occupy movement was also similar in its focus on the 99% as opposed to the 1%.

How to Post and Comment

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Welcome to ENGL 4573! A great deal of our class work will take place on the u.osu.edu site. Below are a few general instructions to get you started.

 

To Post a Reflection or Methods Post

  1. From the ENGL 4573 blog home page, hover over “+New” in the top banner and click “Post. You will be taken to a new screen where you can write up your blog post.
    Post screen
  2. Insert a title for the post.
  3. Compose your response in the dialog box that appears. You may want to compose your response in a word processing programming and then cut and paste into the dialog box (this option allows you to save your work in case the site stops responding or another technical malfunction).
  4. Create, select, and “Tags” (on the right hand menu bar) for the post.  (Remember: all posts must be tagged with your last name and the type of post, either “Reflection” or Methods”)
  5. “Publish” your post by clicking the blue “Publish” button on the right hand menu bar.
Blog composing screen

 

To Read and Comment on Your Peers’ Posts

  1. From the ENGL 4573 blog home page, click “Home” in the left hand navigation bar. This will take you back to the home page, and you will be able to scroll through the posts from newest to oldest. Alternatively, individual posts are listed under “Recent Posts” in the left hand navigation bar.
    How to view posts
  2.  Click on any post title to visit it.
  3. To “Leave a Comment,” scroll to the bottom of the post. There, at the bottom, you’ll have the option to “Leave a comment.”
  4. Then, compose your comment in the dialog box and click “Post Comment.” By clicking the “Post Comment” button, your comment will become public, appearing as part of the thread for the original post.
    How to edit and comment

If you have any technical issues, please review the u.osu.edu Help page, or please contact Dr. Halasek or Ms. Clinnin.

“A Reflection on Leland Griffin’s ‘The Rhetoric of Historical Movements,’ or, ‘How I Learned to Think Systematically about What I’m Doing When I’m Doing Social Movement Rhetoric”

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Leland Griffin is nothing if not organized and definitive.   ‘The Rhetoric of Historical Movements” sets out exactly the processes he believes rhetoricians studying historical movements should follow, the questions they should ask, methods they should use, and the sources they should examine.  I have to admit, for a novice rhetorician encountering the work of historical movement studies for the first time, I find his structure provides me a useful frame—something like a “Five Paragraph Theme” of movement studies.

The structure has its advantages. As I write, I undertake a series of defined tasks; I can merely follow Griffin’s instructions:

  1. Focus on the rhetorical movement within the historical movement (although I’m not quite sure what this means) (10);
  2. Examine the “briefest historical movement”—not the “biggest” (11);
  3. Apply the concepts of pro and anti movements and “aggressor” and “defendant” rhetoricians in analyzing my rhetorical movement; remember the three phases of development in movements: inception, rhetorical crisis, and consummation (11);
  4. Judge “effectiveness of the discourses” used in the movement to achieve the rhetor’s desired ends and judge those discourses against the “rhetoric and public opinion indigenous to the times,” not by my own historical moment (12);
  5. Report my findings as if I’m a “literary historian,” not a “statistician.”  Tell a story, weave an active, engaging narrative, working chronologically (13);
  6. DISCOVER (my ultimate goal) . . . the “rhetorical pattern inherent in the movement” (13).

The advantages?  I stay focused and don’t try to take on too much (a tendency on my part).  I hone in on identifying roles and phases, looking for patterns in discourses that reveal to me how the movement functioned through those discourses. Easy peasy.  How can I fail?  I have the structure set out for me.  I have the methods—even the genre and form—identified.  I find the content and put it in order, analyzing according to Griffin’s directions.

The problem is, I worry that the form will define and determine my inquiry—just like the five-paragraph theme I wrote in high school on Lillian Hellman’s Little Foxes stripped all life from her play. I had to have three main points in my five paragraph theme (one main point per “body” paragraph).  That was all I took away from that play.  I didn’t so much engage or interpret the content as I reported it.  That’s just not how I see the kind of inquiry I want to undertake.  For example, why do I have to categorize movements as either pro or anti and rhetoricians as either aggressor or defendant?  (I think I bristle here a bit, too, because the metaphors are so . . . violent.)  I don’t want to argue that we should dismiss Griffin entirely.  On my first “go-round” with historical inquiry, I’ll try working from his five questions and using them to begin my work.  I just don’t think my work will end there.  (And I realize it’s up to me to work beyond Griffin if I feel I need to.)  I want to examine the complexities, what doesn’t seem to fit, what resides outside the either/or Griffin constructs.

Just one final note.

A quick search about Griffin took me to a 2006 issue of the Kenneth Burke Journal and “A Remembrance of Leland Griffin” written in by Mark Wright, who notes that this article by Griffin and its “three-stage structure” are “famous” in rhetoric and communication studies.   In the Wright article, I also learned that Griffin was a leading Burke scholar and wrote a piece on Lee Harvey Oswald in which he argued that “ Oswald engaged in self-address in his personal journal, where he imagined himself to be the leader of a social movement behind Kennedy’s assassination.”  Interesting.  But that’s another subject all together!

 

Works Cited

Griffin, Leland. “The Rhetoric of Historical Movements.”  In Readings on the Rhetoric of Social Protest.  Charles E. Morris III and Stephen Howard Browne, eds.  3rd ed. State College, PA: Strata Publishing, 2013.  10-14.  Print.

Wright, Mark.  “A Remembrance of Leland Griffin.” Kenneth Burke Journal 3.1 (2006); n pag. Web.  20 May 2012.