Sunday, June 7, 2009
Obama Talks to Muslims
George Bush just acted like the schoolyard bully and beat up on them no matter what. Sometimes it's wonderful when all somebody does is talk.
Why Seattle's Prop 8 Rally Fizzled
One of the great rhetorical terms coined in the political world is “red meat.” The event at Westlake center planned around the California Supreme Court’s decision on “Prop 8” was just that. The rhetoric of the event was clearly designed to motivate a receptive audience through well worn tropes and familiar slogans; however, it is difficult to judge how well the organizers achieved this end for a variety of reasons.
Initially it seemed that kairos was on their side. The rally was specifically planned as a reaction the Court’s decision regardless of what that decision was. The California decision ended up being a mediocre kairotic event. Unfortunately, by the time 5:30 pm rolled around, it seemed as thought the wind had been taken out of their sails. The first factor was old fashioned time complicated by new fangled communications. The court issued the decision at 10:00 AM, seven and a half hours before the rally. In that timeframe, countless emails had been sent and received, phone calls made, blog entries posted and read, and the cable news circuit was already done with it and back to Sonia Sotomayor’s nomination to the US Supreme Court. The conventional wisdom from the legal watchers was that the California Court was going to uphold Prop 8 based on how oral arguments had gone, giving people time to “brace” for the result. Historically, events like the Day of Decision Rally have been cathartic, a gathering of the wounded constituency to relieve pain and shock; the crowd that arrived required no such thing because they had anticipated the result and had already dealt with it.
The rally took on the feel of an overcrowded information session. When a mass of sign carrying chanters arrived to join the crowd, the crowd seemed annoyed that people were making noise. The speakers who discussed the status and trajectory of strategy and public policy in California to overturn Prop 8 in California and to prevent Referendum 71 in Washington from getting on the ballot had the audience’s rapt attention. The speakers who attempted to rile the crowd through impassioned oratory got nowhere. By my unscientific measurement, the most intense noise was for a woman who read a list of organizations who had joined the Equal Rights Washington PAC’s (ERW) coalition against Referendum 71.
Most of the speakers sounded like an LGBT issues “greatest hits” review. High profile members of the community who had turned out in support were introduced to polite applause. Terms like equality, civil rights, fair, and freedom were mainstays of all the speakers. The word “all” was used in conjunction with a number of nouns: people, families, lifestyles, marriages, et cetera. The one large change I noticed in the rhetoric was from a lawyer speaking on behalf of ERW. Historically I’ve known LGBT to be couched in terms of a minority community. The Attorney (I was unable to discern her name) identified herself as “an ally and an advocate,” and used the language of the majority. She made it explicit in the beginning of her remarks that she was firmly of the opinion that “we” were in the majority. Her attempt to refocus the language of the debate was an interesting move, and one that did more to motivate the crowd through simple pragmatic speech than the fire and passion of some of the other speakers.
By assuming the stance of an advocate for a political majority, The Attorney reframed the issue in a way often employed by advocates against same-sex marriage. She took the position that the LGBT community was treated unfairly and that the “will of the people was subverted by “activist judges.” She never used these explicit terms, she was appropriating slogans and topoi of the opposition by alluding to them and making those tropes work in her favor. By invoking the “democratic” arguments of the other side, she empowered the group’s position in a new and innovative way. By adopting the topoi of democracy, majority rule, and the ballot, she was able to imply that what the ballot can give what the ballot had taken away in California. The discourse was one of near as opposed to distant inevitability.
The one new trope that pervaded the event was in the generic form of “we’re winning.” The power of the phrase echoes the tactic of The Attorney by assuming victory “soon” as opposed to an undefined “eventually.” The “we’re winning” topos is especially effective in Washington because of the recent politics on the issue in the state. A domestic partnership law was passed in 2007, expanded in 2008, and Governor Gregoire signed an expansion in to law that makes the law “all but marriage,” and waited a long time to do so in order to shorten the timeframe in which opponents of the law could gather signatures to get Referendum 71 on the ballot. In Washington, it has been a slow progress, and extended campaigns of any kind tend to be exhausting. The “we’re winning” taps into the encouraging aspects of the long and slow road of marriage equality in Washington and uses it to keep supporters motivated. It is a reminder that the situation is not static, and reminds people to look at what has already happened as well as what needs to be done.
Initially it seemed that kairos was on their side. The rally was specifically planned as a reaction the Court’s decision regardless of what that decision was. The California decision ended up being a mediocre kairotic event. Unfortunately, by the time 5:30 pm rolled around, it seemed as thought the wind had been taken out of their sails. The first factor was old fashioned time complicated by new fangled communications. The court issued the decision at 10:00 AM, seven and a half hours before the rally. In that timeframe, countless emails had been sent and received, phone calls made, blog entries posted and read, and the cable news circuit was already done with it and back to Sonia Sotomayor’s nomination to the US Supreme Court. The conventional wisdom from the legal watchers was that the California Court was going to uphold Prop 8 based on how oral arguments had gone, giving people time to “brace” for the result. Historically, events like the Day of Decision Rally have been cathartic, a gathering of the wounded constituency to relieve pain and shock; the crowd that arrived required no such thing because they had anticipated the result and had already dealt with it.
The rally took on the feel of an overcrowded information session. When a mass of sign carrying chanters arrived to join the crowd, the crowd seemed annoyed that people were making noise. The speakers who discussed the status and trajectory of strategy and public policy in California to overturn Prop 8 in California and to prevent Referendum 71 in Washington from getting on the ballot had the audience’s rapt attention. The speakers who attempted to rile the crowd through impassioned oratory got nowhere. By my unscientific measurement, the most intense noise was for a woman who read a list of organizations who had joined the Equal Rights Washington PAC’s (ERW) coalition against Referendum 71.
Most of the speakers sounded like an LGBT issues “greatest hits” review. High profile members of the community who had turned out in support were introduced to polite applause. Terms like equality, civil rights, fair, and freedom were mainstays of all the speakers. The word “all” was used in conjunction with a number of nouns: people, families, lifestyles, marriages, et cetera. The one large change I noticed in the rhetoric was from a lawyer speaking on behalf of ERW. Historically I’ve known LGBT to be couched in terms of a minority community. The Attorney (I was unable to discern her name) identified herself as “an ally and an advocate,” and used the language of the majority. She made it explicit in the beginning of her remarks that she was firmly of the opinion that “we” were in the majority. Her attempt to refocus the language of the debate was an interesting move, and one that did more to motivate the crowd through simple pragmatic speech than the fire and passion of some of the other speakers.
By assuming the stance of an advocate for a political majority, The Attorney reframed the issue in a way often employed by advocates against same-sex marriage. She took the position that the LGBT community was treated unfairly and that the “will of the people was subverted by “activist judges.” She never used these explicit terms, she was appropriating slogans and topoi of the opposition by alluding to them and making those tropes work in her favor. By invoking the “democratic” arguments of the other side, she empowered the group’s position in a new and innovative way. By adopting the topoi of democracy, majority rule, and the ballot, she was able to imply that what the ballot can give what the ballot had taken away in California. The discourse was one of near as opposed to distant inevitability.
The one new trope that pervaded the event was in the generic form of “we’re winning.” The power of the phrase echoes the tactic of The Attorney by assuming victory “soon” as opposed to an undefined “eventually.” The “we’re winning” topos is especially effective in Washington because of the recent politics on the issue in the state. A domestic partnership law was passed in 2007, expanded in 2008, and Governor Gregoire signed an expansion in to law that makes the law “all but marriage,” and waited a long time to do so in order to shorten the timeframe in which opponents of the law could gather signatures to get Referendum 71 on the ballot. In Washington, it has been a slow progress, and extended campaigns of any kind tend to be exhausting. The “we’re winning” taps into the encouraging aspects of the long and slow road of marriage equality in Washington and uses it to keep supporters motivated. It is a reminder that the situation is not static, and reminds people to look at what has already happened as well as what needs to be done.
When Student Outrage Isn't
Although ASUW President Anttimo Bennet was the titular host of the organization’s open meeting on the budget on Friday, April 10, for the vast majority of the event he ceded the floor to Government Relations Director Richard Lum, and to great effect. Mr. Lum’s discourse assumed a few premises. First, that the state budget cuts were inevitable, however, the size of said cuts could be negotiated. Second, that raising student tuition was not a viable answer to the problem. Finally, reducing the quality or quantity of offerings is out of the question.
Mr. Lum presented himself as the consummate “policy wonk.” He cited facts, figures, percentages, names, procedures, and dates with impressive speed and accuracy. Initially, his manner of addressing the matter seemed counterintuitive. Mr. Lum remained eerily placid, and certain topoi were noticeably absent in his prepared remarks and extemporaneous responses. Most notably, he did not use the word “fair” in his entire 45 minutes, and his usage of the word “right” was reserved solely for describing his relationship to the student body: “My job is to do right by you,” for example. Mr. Lum was the first to utter any overt declaration of urgency, using the word “emergency,” and this was more than 25 minutes into the 45 minute event.
After about two-thirds of the time had elapsed, Mr. Lum’s strategy became a little more evident. Based on the behaviors and questions of those in attendance, I presumed that they expected a more impassioned address. Mr. Lum instead addressed a very narrow selection of facts. He systematically rebutted a number of the arguments forwarded by the administration and legislature, and stuck to as dry and pure a logic as possible. By remaining as factual and logical as possible, Mr. Lum rapidly created his ethos with the audience. At one point, it became slightly comical as he began to digress into a detailed description of procedural impediments to implementing a specific solution, then interrupting himself to abbreviate his response to “it’s too late for that, there’s not enough time in the (legislative) session to make it happen.” To me, this read as an attempt to display an understanding of even the most obscure rules, and a similar understanding of the audience’s desire of and patience for such details.
What Mr. Lum conspicuously lacked was passion and emotion. He commanded the facts with incredible deftness, and managed the direction of the conversation with great aplomb. When an audience member addressed the fairness of the state tax system, and asked why the state didn’t move to an income tax and make the millionaires pay more, Mr. Lum calmly deflected the question as fair but outside the scope of ASUW and not applicable to the immediate problem, and used it to segue into a discussion about the way in which rising costs limit accessibility. He cited statistics on cost and state contribution, and pointed out that the Federal Government was kicking in money to lower tuition, not to stabilize it, which happened under the state’s budget.
The end result of Mr. Lum’s calm, nearly passionless delivery was to render his audience unsatisfied. As the 45 minutes drew closer and closer to a close, the audience became increasingly agitated. A faculty member and spokesperson for “Seattle Radical Women” gave a few remarks and distributed a printout, further fanning the flames of discontent, and yet Mr. Lum remained as calm as ever. What he accomplished was rather amazing: he inflamed the passions of his audience without a bitter or evocative word. He avoided discourses of fairness, rightness, and morality, and in doing so lead his audience to those very topics. He advised nothing, advocated nothing, and using the facts he compelled discussion of action.
Mr. Lum created what I can only describe as an “emotional syllogism.” His major premise was that reduction of services or an increase in tuition is unfair, unjust, and generally bad. His minor premise was that the state and administration were moving in those directions anyway. Therefore, his audience was left with the conclusion that they were dealing with unfair, unjust, and bad people who were treating students, faculty and staff unfairly, unjustly, and poorly. If one can guild a seemingly passionless argument for such a position, and remain calm and apparently objective throughout, it creates a hole where the audience perceives an appeal to pathos should be. Rather than manufacturing umbrage, he gave it a breeding ground, and let human nature take its course. The emotional effect of his argument was intrinsic to each individual.
The second effect was to arm an angry crowd with talking points. It would have been easy to imbue the crowd with righteous anger and send it off for the weekend, but Mr. Lum accomplished more. By keeping the pace slow, the emotions low, and the conversation on track he created a good learning environment. In supplying an unbelievable amount of data, he made something available that would be memorable to most of the audience, something that person could employ in later conversation. Passion is good, but good talking points are even better.
Finally, Mr. Lum seemed to take a longer-term view of the problem than the majority of his audience. Many in attendance were interested in policy, social equity, or the implications for the faculty and staff, and some were simply students compelled by their own self interest. Mr. Lum’s approach seemed to be laying the ground work for future budgetary struggles. He cited a plethora of historical statistics and trends, and stressed the government and administration’s position that “these are extraordinary circumstances.” He seemed preparing the ASUW system to argue for the policy’s timely reversal under better economic conditions than its outright defeat, and part of setting the stage for the reversal of policy is creating discontent with its implementation.
Mr. Lum presented himself as the consummate “policy wonk.” He cited facts, figures, percentages, names, procedures, and dates with impressive speed and accuracy. Initially, his manner of addressing the matter seemed counterintuitive. Mr. Lum remained eerily placid, and certain topoi were noticeably absent in his prepared remarks and extemporaneous responses. Most notably, he did not use the word “fair” in his entire 45 minutes, and his usage of the word “right” was reserved solely for describing his relationship to the student body: “My job is to do right by you,” for example. Mr. Lum was the first to utter any overt declaration of urgency, using the word “emergency,” and this was more than 25 minutes into the 45 minute event.
After about two-thirds of the time had elapsed, Mr. Lum’s strategy became a little more evident. Based on the behaviors and questions of those in attendance, I presumed that they expected a more impassioned address. Mr. Lum instead addressed a very narrow selection of facts. He systematically rebutted a number of the arguments forwarded by the administration and legislature, and stuck to as dry and pure a logic as possible. By remaining as factual and logical as possible, Mr. Lum rapidly created his ethos with the audience. At one point, it became slightly comical as he began to digress into a detailed description of procedural impediments to implementing a specific solution, then interrupting himself to abbreviate his response to “it’s too late for that, there’s not enough time in the (legislative) session to make it happen.” To me, this read as an attempt to display an understanding of even the most obscure rules, and a similar understanding of the audience’s desire of and patience for such details.
What Mr. Lum conspicuously lacked was passion and emotion. He commanded the facts with incredible deftness, and managed the direction of the conversation with great aplomb. When an audience member addressed the fairness of the state tax system, and asked why the state didn’t move to an income tax and make the millionaires pay more, Mr. Lum calmly deflected the question as fair but outside the scope of ASUW and not applicable to the immediate problem, and used it to segue into a discussion about the way in which rising costs limit accessibility. He cited statistics on cost and state contribution, and pointed out that the Federal Government was kicking in money to lower tuition, not to stabilize it, which happened under the state’s budget.
The end result of Mr. Lum’s calm, nearly passionless delivery was to render his audience unsatisfied. As the 45 minutes drew closer and closer to a close, the audience became increasingly agitated. A faculty member and spokesperson for “Seattle Radical Women” gave a few remarks and distributed a printout, further fanning the flames of discontent, and yet Mr. Lum remained as calm as ever. What he accomplished was rather amazing: he inflamed the passions of his audience without a bitter or evocative word. He avoided discourses of fairness, rightness, and morality, and in doing so lead his audience to those very topics. He advised nothing, advocated nothing, and using the facts he compelled discussion of action.
Mr. Lum created what I can only describe as an “emotional syllogism.” His major premise was that reduction of services or an increase in tuition is unfair, unjust, and generally bad. His minor premise was that the state and administration were moving in those directions anyway. Therefore, his audience was left with the conclusion that they were dealing with unfair, unjust, and bad people who were treating students, faculty and staff unfairly, unjustly, and poorly. If one can guild a seemingly passionless argument for such a position, and remain calm and apparently objective throughout, it creates a hole where the audience perceives an appeal to pathos should be. Rather than manufacturing umbrage, he gave it a breeding ground, and let human nature take its course. The emotional effect of his argument was intrinsic to each individual.
The second effect was to arm an angry crowd with talking points. It would have been easy to imbue the crowd with righteous anger and send it off for the weekend, but Mr. Lum accomplished more. By keeping the pace slow, the emotions low, and the conversation on track he created a good learning environment. In supplying an unbelievable amount of data, he made something available that would be memorable to most of the audience, something that person could employ in later conversation. Passion is good, but good talking points are even better.
Finally, Mr. Lum seemed to take a longer-term view of the problem than the majority of his audience. Many in attendance were interested in policy, social equity, or the implications for the faculty and staff, and some were simply students compelled by their own self interest. Mr. Lum’s approach seemed to be laying the ground work for future budgetary struggles. He cited a plethora of historical statistics and trends, and stressed the government and administration’s position that “these are extraordinary circumstances.” He seemed preparing the ASUW system to argue for the policy’s timely reversal under better economic conditions than its outright defeat, and part of setting the stage for the reversal of policy is creating discontent with its implementation.
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