Interview with Leslie Dorrough Smith.
1. What is the main argument of your book?
The gist of Righteous Rhetoric is that scholars have generally overlooked the source of the Christian Right’s social clout by focusing mainly on its member groups’ beliefs or rigid moral rules. Instead, I’m convinced that the greatest asset of the Christian Right is quite mundane: it’s the way that they speak.
The bulk of the book examines the speech of one prominent Christian Right group, called Concerned Women for America (CWA), and demonstrates that the group is persuasive because it employs a rhetorical technique that I call chaos rhetoric. Chaos rhetoric is a type of speech that invokes widespread public appeal through its deployment of specific symbols designed to create a heightened sense of social chaos and threat (rather than the order and security that scholars often tout when describing the Christian Right). By carefully manufacturing these negative emotions, the group is in a prime position to offer its own political platforms as the resolution to the threats that they construct.
One could simply call chaos rhetoric a fear tactic, but I thought this was too simplistic, since I was more interested in looking at how, when, and under what circumstances CWA chose to portray certain things as chaotic or fearful rather than presuming that those emotions were self-evident or natural. In other words, what is deemed frightening or threatening at one moment is often a non-event several years, or even months, later – it all depends on how the political and cultural winds are blowing.
If chaos rhetoric is a technique of persuasion, it is also one of masquerade. In the book I detail how chaos rhetoric serves four critical functions, two of which – creating urgency and inciting activism – are fairly predictable persuasive techniques. But CWA’s chaos rhetoric also performs the dual functions of defensive argumentation and rationale-deflection, which are processes by which attention is shifted away from CWA and its perhaps less popular rationales for advocacy and onto more emotion-evoking platforms. These are both really effective ways for the group to change more imperceptibly simply by convincing the audience to concentrate its attention elsewhere.
For example, CWA has frequently attempted to portray homosexuality as a public health threat, which it has done through studies that show things like an elevated risk for domestic violence among gay couples, or that pinpoint higher rates of suicide among gay teens. Rather than describe the more subjective discomfort that characterize its members’ homophobia, or talk about anti-gay theologies (neither of which is a particularly persuasive tactic if the point is to attract a diverse audience), CWA persuades best by portraying homosexuality as a threat to something that virtually everyone values – their health. Perhaps it goes without saying that if CWA were really concerned with public health issues, then they’d be discussing more than just the health risks associated with homosexuality (and ironically, the studies show that these risks are actually generated by an unaccepting culture rather than anything intrinsic to sexual orientation). Nevertheless, deflecting the rationale from religious particulars or gut feelings onto what is perceived to be a more “legitimate” concern helps to make the message sound relevant.
This technique is also useful over time. Focusing attention on its opponents (but less on itself) allows CWA to shift its own agendas more imperceptibly. As the message about gay rights as a health threat grows stale, loses public appeal, or is otherwise debunked, it is abandoned for a new one that accomplishes a similar effect. But once the similar effect is no longer possible to maintain, the group will be pushed to rework its stance on homosexuality, even if incrementally, so as to preserve its public relevancy. For instance, this might involve the shift from seeing homosexual identity as a sin to regarding the practice of homosexuality as a sin; that nuance, however slight, provides some wiggle room that gives the group material to work with in crafting new rhetoric. What this shows, then, is that the real persuasive force of chaos rhetoric lies in knowing how to repeatedly rework an opponent’s identity so that they remain perpetually threatening, and crafting one’s own rationale so that it always seems relevant.
2. What motivated your work?
Generally speaking, I was dissatisfied with the models and presumptions scholars were using to study the Christian Right, and, in turn, I was interested in asking a different set of questions about how social groups work. I’ll elaborate a bit more:
First off, I was stumped by the way some scholars criticize the Christian Right for their persuasive tactics but then fail to notice that they are using virtually identical tactics in their own analyses. Although there are many examples of this, I’m referring here to the fact that such scholars often describe the rhetoric of the Christian Right as a brand of fear-mongering, but then impart a similar message of fear when talking about why one should politically oppose them. This common approach to the Christian Right was what actually inspired the last chapter of Righteous Rhetoric, wherein I provide examples of how chaos rhetoric is used by progressive groups just as easily (and frequently) as it is by conservatives. That chapter’s function is not only to argue the normalcy of chaos rhetoric as an act ubiquitous to almost all groups trying to persuade, but also to interrogate the manner in which scholars have often treated the Christian Right as some sort of religio-political aberration rather just a common interest group doing what all other interest groups do.
On that same note, scholars also tend to describe the Christian Right as something unusual when they offer psychological explanations for its existence. Many such models describe the movement as one embraced primarily by psychologically fearful people who need order and absolutism in order to function in the world. I don’t doubt that this is the case with many conservatives, but I also think it applies to loads of other people, too, so these particular analytical frames that emphasize some sort of radical distinction have never much appealed to me.
I was also inspired to write this book because I found it interesting how frequently scholars point to theology as the key to a specific religious group’s allure. That’s not to say, of course, that the attractiveness of this or that theology has nothing to do with it, but it overlooks the large number of social factors at play in the persuasion process, and it also glosses over the glaring reality that social groups are comprised of incredibly diverse populations of people who are members of the group for just as many different reasons.
This is why I was drawn, methodologically, to a rhetorical study, since no matter the smattering of beliefs that are out there (not to mention people’s relative lack of adherence to many of their stated beliefs), it’s very difficult to live in American culture without having some interface with these sorts of openly political messages. I think it’s a popular explanatory scheme to point to theologies or beliefs because it’s a frequent insider claim – that is, religious people often think that their theological positions are what make them attractive, true, or distinct – but I have never been particularly satisfied with the explanatory potential of that position.
My motivations, then, were fueled in large part by the sense that scholars’ own biases (not only about the Christian Right, but religion in general) were causing them to overlook other, perhaps more fundamental, phenomena.
3. What theory or theorists inform your methodology?
For this particular project (and many others, besides), I relied heavily on Roland Barthes, Michel Foucault, Judith Butler, Susan Friend Harding, and Pierre Bourdieu (among countless others I could probably name). While they individually contribute to my methodology in a variety of ways, what they all share is the notion that social phenomena should not be gauged as things in themselves, but as a reflection of certain power dynamics that are naturalized through language. Since Foucault and Bourdieu’s contributions on discourse, sexuality, and habitus (respectively) are probably quite well known, it might be helpful if I illuminate something more specific about how the other figures helped me to take a theoretical position and use it to influence my methodological approach:
Roland Barthes was the first scholar I encountered who actively provided an explanation on how persuasion (as it occurs in naturalization discourses) happens. Methodologically speaking, he helped me to stop thinking about a group’s claims as “worldviews,” insomuch as this term implies a relatively neutral description of reality. Rather, his model of mythmaking asserts that the claims groups make often involve the fusion of a specifically chosen set of symbols that perform an equally specific sort of task upon which the group depends in order to fulfill its goals. The more that the public sees these issues being presented together, the more they will believe that those things are connected. This different perspective allowed me to see “beliefs” as specific descriptive strategies that, if adopted by others and systematized in a larger sense, have enormous potential to transform social groups, even apart from whether the individual members of those groups buy into these notions.
I also relied quite heavily on Butler’s concept of the signifying chain, which is a term she employs to describe the way that groups assign authority to a particular idea. To illustrate this, Butler draws on the figure of a judge, whose legal power doesn’t come from any sort of specific quality of that individual judge per se, but only from the judge’s ability to refer to past precedent. The past precedent to which that judge refers is also the result of another judge’s ruling (based, again, on that judge’s reference to past precedent, and so on). Butler’s point here is that so many of the most enduring ideas that frame our social norms are authoritative because they have been around for so long, and yet no one can point to an actual reason for their authority apart from “the last generation did it.” The usefulness of this concept, to me, is that it permits scholars to get outside of the contest surrounding the truth of a particular idea, and to focus, instead, on what dynamics, symbols, and often implicit rhetorics made possible the construction of that idea in the first place.
Finally, I need to give a large amount of credit to one of Susan Friend Harding’s works, entitled The Book of Jerry Falwell. There are some really key concepts that Harding uses that have influenced my own analysis quite heavily. For instance, she talks about flexible absolutism as a type of speech that argues for the enduring or eternal value of a particular position, but then changes as that idea becomes less popular. Many scholars might argue that this is simple hypocrisy (particularly if it’s being used by a group that they don’t like), but Harding’s treatment of it as a rhetorical phenomenon (rather than moral failure) helped me to also reframe this apart from the hierarchical positioning that goes along with that common moral tone.
But perhaps more than anything else, I’m really struck by Harding’s description of language as the instrument of conversion. She notes that conversion is often something that we associate with a “change of heart” when it’s really a process of adopting a new type of speech. If we can understand that our words directly shape the concepts that subsequently frame reality, then our choice of new words to describe the world – an important part of what happens when we persuade or are persuaded – forefronts rhetoric as a critical component of understanding social politics.
4. How might the book be used or how has it been used in a classroom?
I wrote the book to have specific applicability across a lot of fields. It would be at home just as readily in a sociology, anthropology, political science, or rhetoric course as it would in the more obvious religious studies or gender studies setting. I also structured it so that each chapter has the capacity to stand alone or perform a specific function, so there are lots of possibilities on how to use it.
For instance, on a very simple level, I’ve used portions of chapter 1 to demonstrate that certain concepts have a history. Chapter 1 provides an overview of conservative American attitudes towards sex, gender, and reproduction, so this is a great way for students to see that the current rhetoric on things like abortion and sexuality are not new, but have had a very long lifespan, indeed, and one often couched in racism and other unbalanced power relationships.
I also know of several others who have used the conclusion as a stand-alone essay to introduce/discuss methodological issues with upper level undergrads and early graduate students. As I mentioned earlier, the conclusion questions the notion that chaos rhetoric is unique to the Christian Right, demonstrates that various other diverse groups use the same techniques, and then holds scholars to task for the manner in which they have treated otherwise similar groups much differently based on their own political commitments.
The chapters in between, while dealing more specifically with CWA as a group, also have a lot of usefulness outside of their specific inclusion in the book. The more theoretically-focused chapter (chapter 2) provides an introduction to the way that ideas are naturalized in a culture through a discussion of rhetoric, discourse, and mythmaking. While I end up tying this naturalization discussion directly into the normalization of sexual and gendered identities, these principles remain helpful to discuss almost any social norm formation. Chapter 3 deals with CWA’s portrayal of itself as an expression of “true” feminism and women’s rights (a move being seen more and more by conservative women’s groups), and chapter 4 addresses the ways in which CWA manages to frame sexual issues as national issues. So as you might guess, although I’m examining this through the lens of CWA’s rhetoric, there are many avenues, disciplines, and topics that might be mined from that material.
5. How do you think students would most benefit from your book?
Topically speaking, there are some more obvious benefits in the sense that CWA is a relatively understudied group, and the Christian Right is an enormously powerful force in American politics. But one of the greatest benefits of the book, in my mind, is more methodological, because my hope is that this book normalizes the social process. Put differently, it provides some overarching principles for understanding how many, if not most, groups work. I think that many students (undergrads, in particular), are accustomed to learning about various phenomena by focusing on distinction (“this group is different from that one in this way”, etc.). to the detriment of situating this group or that event as just one example of a much larger phenomenon. I hope that this book can, at least to some degree, trouble that trend.
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