The Science of Storytelling
for social change
Social movements which confront systemic and organisational powers grab immediate media attention and are a quick means for raising awareness, mobilising public action and creating much needed social change.
Control over the story of confrontational action, however, is a lottery. Antagonists may seek to discredit the organisers and biased reporting may put off potential followers. Systemic change is rare, with a win being a policy tweak. Greta Thunberg touched our hearts, and generated a sense of urgency in responding to climate crisis. But,
aargh …
For those who’ve gathered here during the course of the last two months, you’ll have noticed I am passionate about a different kind of activist - a quiet revolutionary - who has, in a small way, made a very big difference. Unlike protest movements, quiet revolutionaries are in a position to manage their own story.
Their work is built on a foundation of consensus and begins with a single behaviour change. Ignoring those who hold positions of power, government office and the bureaucrats, an individual or small group acts to change something at home, or in their neighbourhood. Their action extends through friends, family and neighbours.
By showing how things could be different, others follow, and in some cases that first individual act becomes a global social movement.
Others see, others do!
It wasn’t until the 1990s that researchers directed their attention to non-adversarial movements. In consensual social movements, people rather than bureaucrats are the agents of social change, and by virtue of being closer to the impact of local issues, are capable of expressing an alternative ethical and cultural narrative, a worldview based in the reality of lived lives, the kind of narrative that is capable of inducing systemic change. This form of social movement presents a non-divisive process of change, is often apolitical in stance and acts as a non-partisan social force.
In 1958, Sarvodya began as a small rural movement which sought to “develop” Sri Lankan communities by embracing the values of self-reliance, self-sufficiency, and equity. By 1981, it had expanded to include 3,000 villages in a country of 21,000 villages, including 1 million of the 14 million total population (Goulet 1981). The movement neither sought political power nor aimed to influence the government in any way.1
The Power of Story
We know that storytelling is one of the most powerful tools we have for activating people. Effective stories transport us into the world of their characters, they leave room for us to insert our own experiences, and can overwrite bias and assumptions with details and counternarratives.2
I have quoted this at the beginning of each newsletter published so far. However, I (deliberately) took it out of context. Two sentences later, the article states:
But just telling stories is not enough.
Last week, I invited you to share your take-away from the stories so far. Have any of the stories inspired a behaviour change in you? If the answer is no, then just telling stories is not enough.
The article on gift economies, although not the most read article, was the first evidence of a story inspiring behaviour change in a reader. She shared how it had inspired a decision she had been wavering on for some time. Similarly, I had fully intended to paywall some of this newsletter’s content, but the act of writing that article elicited a similar decision from me. At that stage, I believe I had around thirty subscribers. Two were inspired sufficiently to make a small change. We’re not world changers yet, but I do consider that a success.
The level of discussion was also encouraging. Public discourse is vital to the paradigm shift necessary for systemic change. When I’ve asked the question: ‘what kind of a future would you like to see?’ I have been confronted with resignation - ‘but what alternative is there?’ It is difficult for anybody to think beyond the polarised choice of capitalism or communism. I was additionally confronted with antagonism, accused of wanting to bring us back to the Middle Ages. How that was logically induced from the question, I still fail to understand!
I am in pursuit of answers to these questions, and from these stories of quiet revolutionaries, I hope to formulate a thesis, a kind of pragmatic philosophy.
If you disagree with my earlier claim of success (I have no real objective basis for making it), then it could be because I am doing it wrong. I haven’t yet learned the art science of storytelling.
How to make good stories
Psychologist, Jerome Bruner, you may have heard of him, once claimed “in contrast to our vast knowledge of how science and logical reasoning proceed, we know precious little in any formal sense about how to make good stories.”3
The statement inspired a research team at the University of Florida to investigate what we do know about how to tell stories in a more compelling, memorable and inspiring way, and how to identify which stories will have meaning for those the storyteller is trying to inspire. The science of storytelling can be viewed as a recipe of ingredients you need to gather. But putting them together isn’t so simple and no one agent can be expected to do everything well.
Their key ingredient for better storytelling for social change is building better partnerships.
Huh?
There are three players in the partnership: the storyteller, the strategic convener and the funder.
The Storyteller
If you remember the man who stopped the desert, awareness of his actions wouldn’t have reached our shores if it wasn’t for the documentary filmmaker, Mark Dodd taking an interest in his story. Mark Dodd was the storyteller of a tale told so well it helped the protagonist to martial international support and extend the reach of his work.
Documentary filmmakers, in particular, often follow a story and its characters for years at a time. In turn, they end up with a deeply visceral understanding of an issue, and can offer a refreshing perspective to building outreach and capturing the public imagination.4
Sometimes, however, the protagonist is the storyteller. When you can’t afford a documentary filmmaker, why not do a TED talk?
The Strategic Convener
Film screenings are usually offered to existing supporters who, after a panel discussion, may be called to action, e.g. donating, signing a petition etc. A strategic convener, on the other hand, organises screenings to maximise impact and mobilise unlikely audiences. For instance, the film Girls Rising, a documentary campaign for girls’ education, was not only shown as a full film screening, but was converted into several shorts with a specific voice and theme to reach a wider audience of niche organisations.5
The Funder
Systems-level investment helps to create the capability of creating more than one-off partnerships between the three elements of an impactful story. Mark Dodd, the documentary film-maker of The Man Who Stopped the Desert was initially supported by WorldView which offers multimedia funding while journalists are in the field for several months. As part of the film he met researcher Chris Reij who through the World Resources Institute mobilised funding for a further documentary story, Ethiopia Rising.
A good partnership between these three characters is what drives behaviour change in audiences who might not otherwise have been impacted.6
Unfortunately, not all those with a story to tell are able to, or can even conceive of the notion of attracting corporate scale collaboration and funding. At the time of writing, for instance, Worldview multimedia applications were closed. Quiet revolutionaries rely more on the power of their story, or the ability of the storyteller. Which leads me back to the science of storytelling itself.
The Science of Storytelling
It would be possible to write a very long tome on this multi-faceted subject. For present purposes, I will focus on just two influential factors, narrative transformation, and affect, in the context of the stories I have shared so far.
In the short five minutes of seeing Geoff Lawton Greening the Desert I was transported into a world of possibilities. Narrative transportation is the psychological state we experience when reading a good book. We are transported from the everyday to a different world in which we lose all sense of time and place. For me, Greening the Desert was the single most important factor in my transformation from grieving for the planet to a place of hope. If you can do that in Jordan, you could do it anywhere. From that point onward, I no longer wanted to read the bad news ‘to stay informed’, but instead to concentrate on stories of hope.
For narrative transformation to occur, we need to experience empathy with the main character. Within the space of five minutes, Geoff managed to capture empathy by describing the desperate circumstances of his project’s location. It seemed an impossible task. He also speaks informally, like you’re one of his mates and in so-doing, draws you closer into his world. Despite his many years of experience, he’s just like us, an ordinary bloke.7
You may have noticed in previous posts that I have referred to the protagonist of these stories as if on first name terms. The psychological impact is to make the character seem more familiar. Journalists and academics tend to use surnames, creating an objective distance, maintaining the position of those they write about as an authority, stranger, or outsider. Why would we care? If the reader is able to empathise and identify with the character then they are more susceptible to changing their belief to match those in the story.8 Why is seed-saving important? A young mother, carrying a baby in her arms, mobilises people into saving the gold of the future. An audience of parents and grandparents, concerned about the legacy we are leaving, will identify with her and may just follow the simple request to become a seed guardian.
Pam Warhurst, one of the original founders of Incredible Edible, in her TED talk also made herself relatable. By presenting herself as no expert, an ordinary woman who just wanted to do something for her community, viewers relate to her down-to-earth, can-do attitude. It is no accident that the talk garnered 1.5 million views. It wasn’t just the ability to identify with her that inspired Incredible Edible towns across the world, but Pam also makes her audience laugh.
Affect
Different emotions lead us to do different things. One of our most basic emotions is that of fear. The most primitive part of our brain is responsible for putting the body into overdrive so it can flee from perceived danger, or stand there and fight it. Everything else shuts down, from our sense of pain to the ability to think rationally. Fear arouses defensiveness and is a barrier to receptivity. It prevents an openness to learning and we are very unlikely to feel a sudden flash of inspiration.
One of the problems of regular reporting on climate crisis and other social issues is they induce our natural response fight or flight response. For many, the response is to flee - it’s not happening (fake news), it’s not that bad (denial), it’s already too late (resignation and impotency), and for many others it is to fight (protest, petition, strike …). Fighting in response to fear, especially if there is a clearly defined outcome, may achieve policy change, but the direction of discourse is not necessarily on the path intended.
Grass roots action, however, often comes from a relaxed chat over coffee (Incredible Edible), ‘hey, come meet this interesting guy I know’ (The Man Who Stopped the Desert), ‘did you see what they’re doing over there, I think that could work here’ (the spread of permaculture) or ‘I planted a tree, it felt good, I’ll do it again’ (and again, and again, like Forest Man). Unlike a fearful response, it is more creative, open, and experimental. Quiet revolutionaries are adaptively solution-driven in a way that a protest campaign is not. And they present an alternative discourse beyond ‘anti-’.
Their stories evoke a sense of awe. When I first watched Geoff’s desert greening, I was awed by the little miracle and power of mushrooms. Now, when I see a new mushroom species in the garden, I just know I’m doing something right and I’m inspired to keep going. Stories which evoke awe are more likely to make people open to self-reflection and new perspectives.9 As an example, maybe, I shouldn’t be sitting here writing about this, but getting out there and digging some water-saving swales?
Humour also elicits a positive response. One Australian study showed that an element of humour in a documentary relating to global poverty was more likely to gain new supporters than one that lacked this comedic take.10 Pam Warhurst made (and continues to make) her audience laugh. It definitely helped in promoting the Incredible Edible cause.
Embers
In the glowing autumnal light of The Fiertzeside, I’d like to welcome our newest members. The last fruits of the summer harvest are tossed into a variety of salads making up the buddha bowls of this offering. The song of newly returned winter residents reverberates in the leafy canopy. As I write, a blackcap chatters and jays complain at the humans who’ve upset their enjoyment of an ample acorn harvest. They like a good moan. While some trees are a fire of orange, rust and bronze, others have sprouted new buds like it was Spring. An unseen hand paints emerald hues over sun-scorched earth and the mountains are carpeted in colourful constitution. A sudden return to summer temperatures has me diving for icy waters. An alien would struggle to label the season. A symptom of climate change?
Last week, in Gold of the Future, I related the story of how Chat GPT introduced me to the concept of impact investment. I made a mental note to learn more, then completely forgot until I stumbled upon the article below.
who writes interviewed Jason Ingle, CEO of Third Nation Investments. Jason invests in work which contributes to transforming human food systems more sustainably. I think you’ll enjoy the read even if not inclined toward big finance.
Up Next
For the next series of quiet revolutionaries, we are going to take a walk into the forest. I hope you’ll join me on this gentle stroll.
Michaelson, M. (1994) Wangari Maathai and Kenya’s Green Belt Movement: Exploring the Evolution and Potentialities of Consensus Movement Mobilisation. Social Problems, 41(4), 540-561. https://doi.org/10.2307/3096988
Wright, S., & Neimand, A. (2018). The Secret to Better Storytelling for Social Change: Better Partnerships. Stanford Social Innovation Review. https://ssir.org/articles/entry/the_secret_to_better_storytelling_for_social_change_better_partnerships
cited in Christiano, A., Neimand, A. & Sheehan, M. (2018) Why we need to understand how to build better stories - An introduction. Science of Story Building https://medium.com/science-of-story-building/an-introduction-to-the-science-of-story-building-c6de16aa9cd2
Wright, S. & Neimand, A. op cit.
ibid.
ibid.
Neimand, A. (2018) Science of Story Building: Narrative Transportation https://medium.com/science-of-story-building/science-of-story-building-narrative-transportation-923b2701e286
ibid.
Wright, S. & Neimand, A. op cit.
ibid.
Thank you Safar. I'm sorry I missed your question last week. The answer is yes! Your reporting on Incredible Edible is part of the inspiration for my current series of posts on land ownership!