Place, Space, and the Consumable Ideograph Part 2

Part 1 of this combined post was an inevestigation of the ideograph as a part of the consumer society in which we live.  It focused on the Human Right’s Campaign’s retail store, and the idea that the ideograph serves as a tool for brand recognition.  Obviously the Equality banner is recognizable, and works well as the defining brand for the H.R.C. (and even the LGBT movement).

In Part 1, I called into question the legitimacy of such a corporate approach to the social movement. However, in reality, the consumerist approach has been a part of many other movements, and has seen great success.  In fact, many humanitarian movements are centered on consumerism as the primary means of helping others.

Does TOMS ring a bell?

A Humanitarian Ideograph

 

The concept of buying shoes to give shoes away to those who need them is what can be called “conscientious consumerism” (a term coined in an academic piece I read last semester but no longer have Carmen access to) and is fairly popular. I’ll give you another example:

Product (RED)

 

(Or, you know, 21 more examples).

Now, I’m not saying that these humanitarian organizations don’t do good work — but to me, they’re just brands.

Think about it: Project (RED) — is rooted in corporate relationships and the good work that it does is based on the amount of sales that are made.  TOMS is able to give shoes away because the shoes it sells you are so overpriced that you’re probably paying for about 6 pairs to be made.

So, you’re probably thinking, “What does your corporate rant have to do with the ideograph in relationship to place in space?”

Everything.  These two organizations, and others including the H.R.C., are businesses. However, they happen to be in the business of helping people. What I find most interesting about each of these examples is that TOMS, or (RED) or the H.R.C. don’t have a brand logo — they have a brand ideograph.  Let me clarify: If you see the Starbucks Mermaid, you think of coffee (most likely Starbucks coffee.)  That’s what a logo does — it is a sign that directs your attention. However, when you see the equality banner, or the TOMS flag, or a (RED) product, you think of the movements they are attached to, not the individual company.  The companies have values and goals, and they share those with their consumers through their choice of branding.  Their brand ideograph represents their good deeds, and projects a positive ethos in a way that captures their respective movements.

Ideographs are logos. They are branding tools that capture the ethos of an organization, and project that ethos back out, wherever they are displayed. If a person wearing a Project(RED) shirt, and TOMS shoes, driving a car plastered with stickers from the H.R.C. pulled into a parking spot next to you — you would be able to make certain inferences (read: judgments) about their character, based on the ideographs they choose to display.

And in making those judgments — I have to tell you — you consumed the ideographs as much as they did.

Place, Space, and the Consumable Ideograph Part 1

As I mentioned in my comments post earlier, I think that examining the HRC’s Equality Flag ideograph in light of place and space will be one of my more fruitful methods of examination. (This post draws from and attempts to expand on the ideas in that comments post, as it was the moment where I thought about defining the ideograph through place).

I recognized earlier in the semester that the manifestation of our ideologies in our public displays and personas, and our lifestyle (easily defined as purchases) was a reality. That is, space and place help to define our ideology.   The investigation of the ideograph as a tool of social change must therefore be taken with an analysis of  the places  where it is shared.

That line of thinking led to some more research, and I encountered the Human Rights Campaign chain of retail stores, like the one seen below.

Human_Rights_Campaign_Store

 Didn’t you know that LGBT is the latest trend?

I find it  fascinating that an organization dedicated to the promotion of equal rights can actually work towards accomplishing its goals by selling well-branded hats, tees, posters and sweatpants (and find success doing it).  To think, that an ideograph is marketable! I can almost hear the store saying:

“Here, wear this shirt with our logo and cheeky phrase.” (My internal dialogue added the sarcasm there.) But really. “Do you consider yourself part of this movement? Yes? Well then you need to buy this hat! Do you want to get involved in this movement, but don’t know how? Here, have this shirt. You’ll fit in.”

A part of me is appalled, but as someone who understands the necessity of good marketing, I can’t help but applaud the H.R.C.  Way to corner the “equal rights market,” am I right? (More sarcasm).  It is an interesting point of departure for those, who, like Traci (as she indicated in a comment on my past post) question the legitimacy of the H.R.C. and its goals as it is primarily controlled corporately. What does having a storefront, branded with your name and logo, say about your movement? Is selling merchandise with the equality banner on it to help raise awareness? Or profits? (It is very possible that the answer is both).

We know that place and space play an integral role in understanding  ideogology, particularly the ideograph,  how it is displayed — and particularly how it is marketed.

Part 2  will extrapolate further on these ideas, and look at how the ideographs of other movements are consumed.

 

Work-in-Progress: Equality, the Ideograph

The Human Rights Campaign (HRC) (the largest LGBT civil rights advocacy group in the United States) has been in existence since 1986, and has played a role in changing the rhetoric of the LGBT movement. While at one time, there was a concern for “gay rights,” and the HRC (and other campaigns) fought for “gay marriage,” over time, the rhetoric has changed, now calling for “equal rights” and “marriage equality.” This dichotomy is evident in the newer verbal rhetoric of the movement, but I would argue that it started with the adaptation of their “Equality Flag” in 1995. It is the goal of this project, then, to break-open the ideograph of the “Equality Flag,” and its rhetorical significance to the movement, through an analysis of selected artifacts branded with the sign, and their effects on the changing rhetoric.

Questions:

  • Is the analysis of this single ideograph too narrow? Or does its pertinence to the movement as a whole give it depth?
  • Should I look for examples of visual rhetoric from before the “Equality Flag” in order to compare the dichotomy diachronically?
  • Should I only analyze images officially released by the HRC? Or can other artifacts (employing the sign) be brought in to the analysis?

Binaries in Rhetoric: Invitation to Conflict (Part 2 of 2)

Is conflict necessarily confrontational? Or Controversy?

I would venture to say that it’s not. Indeed, controversial subjects and particular areas of conflict do not equate to confrontational rhetoric.  Foss and Griffin seek  to explicate a new rhetoric, “built on the principles of equality, immanent value, and self-determination rather than on the attempt to control others through persuasive strategies designed to effect change” (Foss & Griffin 4-5).  They claim that while persuasion is often necessary, there is a legitimate alternative which exists when the control of others is not the rhetor’s goal — invitational rhetoric.

Certainly there are occasions where opinions could not sit further on the spectrum from each other, but disagreements are as much a part of invitational rhetoric as they are a part of confrontational rhetoric. Rhetors who abide by invitational standards are not free from differences of opinion strictly because they believe in respecting all members of the conversation. By its definition, invitational rhetoric is an invitation to understanding! It is free from judgment and denigration, and it attempts to appreciate and validate the perspectives of audience members, even if different from the rhetor’s own perspectives. There could be a great deal of difference between my stance on gay marriage and someone like Senator Ted Cruz’s stance, but it is critical to remember, that difference, that conflict, is allowed.  Foss and Griffin explain that invitational rhetoric is…

…not always red of pain. In invitational rhetoric, there may a wrenching of loose ideas as assumptions and positions are questioned as a result of an interaction, a process that may be uncomfortable.  But because rhetors affirm the beliefs of, and communicate respect for others, the changes that are made are likely to be accompanied by an appreciation for new perspectives gained and gratitude for the assistance provided by others in thinking about an issue. (Foss & Griffin 6)

In our class discussion, we raised the question, “What about the audience?”

Since the interpretation of any artifact (by an artist, or rhetor, or political figure) is left to the audience, what happens when they feel that an act is confrontational? Rather, why does conflict connect directly to confrontation in the hearts and minds of audience members? Is it a cultural phenomenon that an audience should oppose conflict, rather than engage it? That is the question to answer.

Of course the audience is critical; but I would say that they do not claim the sole privilege of deciding what constitutes invitational or confrontational rhetoric. It comes down to intent.

Rhetoric is controlled primarily by the author. Yes, it can be interpreted by the audience in any number of ways — but they are not the only ones responsible for deciding the meaning of an artifact. Just as the architects of social movements define a cause and its successes, so do the authors and creators of controversial artifacts  determine their meanings and define their places in the world.  After all, that is the author’s job, the rhetor’s privilege. It is most certainly about intent.

The poet William Blake said in his book The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, “Without contraries is no progression” (Blake 7).  Because of rhetoric’s nature as what some would call the “art of persuasion” and what others would describe as an “invitation to understanding”, it sits between two frontiers: confrontation on one side, invitation on the other, and conflict the border between them.

Without crossing the border of conflict, without contrary ideas, opposition, and healthy, respectful debate, progress is impossible. Invitational rhetoric works because of its ability to use conflict appropriately. A good rhetor extends an invitation to conflict.

Conflict invites change.

 

Works Cited

Blake, William. The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. Boston: John W. Luce and, 1906. Archive.org. Web<https://archive.org/stream/marriageofheaven00blak/marriageofheaven00blak_djvu.txt>.

Foss, Sonja K., and Cindy L. Griffin. “Beyond Persuasion: A Proposal for an Invitational Rhetoric.”Communication Monographs 62 (1995): n. pag. Web.

Binaries in Rhetoric: Problematic or Not? (Part 1 of 2)

For our reading and analysis of Cathcart and Corbett, our discussion was centered on the similarities and differences between “confrontational” rhetoric, and “closed-fist” rhetoric. For class, we compared and contrasted the two, creating a binary — something not wholly unusual in our culture.

In her book, “The Argument Culture: Moving from Debate to Dialogue,” Dr. Deborah Tannen analyzes the particularly Western phenomenon which

…rests on the assumption that opposition is the best way to get anything done: The best way to discuss an idea is to set up a debate; the best way to cover news is to find spokespeople who express the most extreme, polarized views and present them as ‘both sides’; the best way to settle disputes is litigation that pits one party against the other; the best way to begin an essay is to attack someone; and the best way to show you’re really thinking is to criticize (Tannen 3-4)

Going back to Cathcart and Corbett, and analyzing our MeetingWords notes, I cannot help but notice a pattern in our discussion of the two rhetorics. The whole discussion was situated in binaries. Below are the binaries that I thought were emphasized the most in our discussion. Some where plainly stated, others were implied.

Confrontational vs. Managerial

  • Rejection vs. Reform
  • Alienation vs. Acceptance
  • Change from outside vs. Change from within

Closed-Fist vs. Open-Hand

  • Coercive vs. Persuasive
  • Physical/Non-verbal vs. Discursive
  • Immediate vs. Gradual
  • Dominant vs. Conciliatory
  • Ethos vs. Pathos

It was not until we introduced invitational rhetoric that we began to stray from the binary form; however, even when focused on invitational rhetoric, we analyzed it in relationship to confrontational rhetoric, or closed-fist rhetoric. We set it side-by-side with the rhetoric of the open-hand, and contrasted the two, bringing us back to a binary situation. Invitational rhetoric is the subject of Part 2, and as such, I will be coming back to it in relationship to Dr. Tannen’s argument culture.

However, a critical point which I feel the need to make, as Dr. Tannen did, is that confrontation can be necessary. Sometimes, circumstances do not allow for a farewell to the pugnacity of our culture. She questions the automatic opposition, the “knee-jerk nature”, or the hair-trigger response, but says that, “Sometimes passionate opposition, strong verbal attack, are appropriate and called for.” She quotes the Yugoslavian-born poet, Charles Simic, who wrote, “There are moments in life when true invective is called for, when it becomes an absolute necessity, out of a deep sense of justice, to denounce, mock, vituperate, washout, in the strongest possible language” (Tannen 7-8).

It is here that Dr. Tannen and Dr. Cathcart reach a semblance of common ground. Cathcart’s entire definition of confrontational rhetoric sits within the field of social movements; he defines movements by their confrontational form, and says that confrontation is “consummatory.” That is, confrontation is essential for distinguishing true social movements, those movements which, like Simic says, use the strongest possible language.

In conversation with a writer who misrepresented Tannen’s own work, Tannen begged the question, “Why do you need to make others wrong for you to be right?” The writer simply responded, “It’s an argument!” Recalling this incident with her tongue firmly in her cheek, Tannen writes, “Aha… that explains it. When you’re having an argument with someone, your goal is not to listen and understand. Instead, you use every tactic you can think of—including distorting what your opponent just said—in order to win the argument” (Tannen 5).

Tannen explains that it is easy to understand the importance of conflict, and its prevalence in western media and culture.

“Writers of headlines or promotional copy want to catch attention and attract an audience. They are usually under time pressure, which lures them to established, conventionalized ways of expressing ideas in the absence of leisure to think up entirely new ones. The promise of controversy seems an easy and natural way to rouse interest” (Tannen 7).

I must admit that I am (intentionally) guilty of employing this strategy. My title, “Binaries in Rhetoric: Problematic or Not?” sets up the conflict between two rhetorics (confrontational vs. closed-fist / closed-fist vs. open-hand / confrontational vs. invitational) in a way which can only produce a “winner” and a “loser.” A play on words, and on the idea of the argument culture, it serves as a bit of meta-commentary on the discussion of social movement rhetoric.

Why? To call into question, just as Tannen did, the constant need for the frame of war, or the need for a winner. Discourse, as we will see, provides for more productive opportunities. But discourse is not passive; it is not a dismissal of personal convictions; it simply requires mutual respect for the conversation that is happening, and for both all parties involved.

In Part 2,  “Binaries in Rhetoric: Invitation to Conflict” I attempt to answer the question we asked in class: “Is conflict necessarily confrontational?”

 

Works Cited

Cathcart, Robert S. “Movements: Confrontation as Rhetorical Form.” Southern Speech Communication Journal 43.3 (1978): 233-47. Print.

Tannen, Deborah. The Argument Culture: Moving from Debate to Dialogue. New York: Random House, 1998. Print.

Gladwell: Right for the Wrong Reasons

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>.