In my spare time, I follow political discussions as best I can, primarily because politics influence all of us in ways both large and small, including the taxes we pay and the way our collective dollars are spent. The past several years have provided a wonderful opportunity for noticing how linguistic framing influences the way we think about the decisions politicians are making about how our money is to be spent. The best way to know what’s really going on in politics is by understanding the rhetorical concept of framing.
The word frame applies to discourse in basically the same way it applies to anything else. In housing, for example, the frame provides the basic structure for the building, including both the exterior and interior walls, where the doors and windows are, and so on. In the visual arts, the frame determines the limit of the work, what is included and what is not. In conversation, the frame determines not only what individuals perceive, but also what they believe and do. Politic discourse is all about framing to influence what the voters believe and for whom they vote.
Because people are inclined to believe what they think is in their self-interest, most political framing focuses on perceived self-interests and what people already believe. Think about a classic frame: “A Right-to-Work State.” The phrase “right-to-work” sounds more positive and better than “right not to join a union” or “limits on workers’ rights to collective bargaining.” Who wouldn’t prefer to work in a state where people have the “right” to work if they want to? That sounds better than living in a state where people are not entitled to engage in collective bargaining. Regardless of your feelings about the role unions played in creating the “Middle Class” in the U.S., you’ll have to admit that framing anti-union legislation as “Right to Work” was brilliant. Once set, that frame is difficult to counter. “Pro-union” doesn’t work. Providing the best frame for an idea makes all the difference in how it is perceived.
Linguistic frames are “shorthand” for a specific idea. Are you “Pro-Life” or “Pro-Choice”? Note that both frames imply a larger context than the one to which they are usually confined, which is pregnancy and childbirth. If you are “pro-life,” can stop being “pro-life” when the babies are born, or does being pro-life extend as children grow? If you are “pro-life,” do you support the death penalty for mass murderers and serial killers? What is included in the frame, and what is not? If you are pro-choice and in favor of a woman’s right to choose an abortion if she needs one, at what point does the “choice” in the context of pregnancy and parenthood become untenable? You can also, of course, be “pro-choice” when it comes to the purchase of your next vehicle and when it comes to driving while intoxicated. Frames have limits, but those limits are not always well defined or understood.
Consider what happened to the “Affordable Care Act.” You may think of it as “Obamacare,” which is a positive frame for those who have a favorable opinion of President Obama. It is, however, a negative frame for those who dislike him. The frame many conservatives are using for Obamacare is “train wreck.” Yet Obamacare is a derivative of Romneycare (Governor Romney’s health-care plan for Massachusetts), which was a derivative of a health-care plan developed by the conservative Heritage Foundation think tank (see http://nyti.ms/1fybiDh for more). Again, regardless of your political affiliation, notice the way framing influences the way you (and others) think about the Affordable Care Act.
Frames are often used to demonize or reify people (individuals, groups, or races) and ideas. In times of war, for example, the enemy is often assigned a pejorative label. (If you are old enough, think about the racial terms used for the Germans, French, Italians, Japanese, Chinese, and Vietnamese from past wars. If you are too young to remember, ask Google.)
War itself has become a frame for anything that requires an all-out effort—or at least the impression of an all-out effort. The “war” metaphor has been used to indicate how much we hate poverty, made obvious by our declaring a “War on Poverty.” We’ve also had a “War on Cancer,” a “War on Drugs,” and a “War on Terror.” The “war” frame has also been used for a “War on Women,” in which women’s rights are seen as being diminished, and “Class Warfare,” which pits the rich against the poor or the poor against the rich, depending on your point of view.
Because frames are “linguistic shorthand” for larger concepts, the evidence for or against the concepts tends to be overlooked. Most often, the concepts are far more complex than the frame implies. The sentence, “Obamacare is going to be a train wreck,” is linguistic shorthand for a disaster, but exactly what kind of a disaster? Especially if you are one who has thought, “Oh, no! A train wreck…,” how would you respond to the following questions that invite an examination of the linguistic frame:
- What do you mean by “train wreck”?
- How exactly will it be a train wreck?
- How do you know it’s going to be a train wreck?
- What evidence supports that view?
- Has anything like Obamacare worked elsewhere?
Answers to such questions require the speaker to provide evidence that supports the frame. The evidence will either support or disconfirm the metaphor of the frame. In the case of Obamacare, we can look to see whether Romneycare worked in Massachusetts. We can also look to see how similar healthcare systems have worked in other countries. The caveat is, of course, that looking for evidence requires more effort than simply accepting the frame. In some cases, making the effort is worth it.
Sometimes accepting the linguistic frame politicians want us to accept really will be a train wreck for us and those we care about. After all, reality is what we will end up with, regardless of the frame.
