[go: up one dir, main page]

Academia.eduAcademia.edu
Environmental Communication Vol. 2, No. 1, March 2008, pp. 78109 FORUM Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict: Responses to Schwarze’s ‘‘Environmental Melodrama’’ The appearance of Steven Schwarze’s essay, ‘‘Environmental Melodrama’’ (Schwarze, 2006) as the lead article in a recent issue of The Quarterly Journal of Speech marks an important moment of recognition for environmental communication scholarship. Schwarze’s essay demonstrates how studies of environmental rhetoric can contribute to rhetorical theory more generally, while addressing practical questions regarding the rhetorical aspects of environmental conflict. The contributors to this forum respond to Schwarze’s arguments, drawing in part upon their own case studies of rhetorical action and narrative in environmental conflict. Keywords: Climate Change; Comedy; Conflict; Crisis; Kairos; Identification; Irony; Kenneth Burke; Melodrama; Rhetoric Introduction William J. Kinsella FORUM editor Schwarze begins his essay by comparing and contrasting three narrative genres* comedy, tragedy, and melodrama*in terms of their implications for identity, community, and social conflict. Drawing from his own study of asbestos William J. Kinsella is Associate Professor in the Department of Communication at North Carolina State University. Previous versions of these essays were presented at the Ninth Biennial Conference on Communication and the Environment, Chicago, 24 June 2007. Correspondence to: Department of Communication, North Carolina State University, Campus Box 8104, 201 Winston Hall, Raleigh, NC 27695, USA. Email: wjkinsel@ncsu.edu ISSN 1752-4032 (print)/ISSN 1752-4040 (online) # 2008 Taylor & Francis DOI: 10.1080/17524030801980242 Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 79 contamination in Libby, Montana, and from other environmental communication case studies, he then elaborates five claims, arguing that melodramatic rhetoric can: Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 . situate conflict on the social and political plane, clarifying issues of power that are obscured by privatizing rhetoric; . reconfigure social relationships and articulate interests that have been obscured by universalizing and singularizing rhetorics; . re-moralize situations that are demoralized by inaccuracy, displaying concerns that have been obscured by the reassuring rhetoric of technical reason; . encourage a unity of feeling, offering a basis for identification that has been obscured by emotionally dissipating and dispassionate rhetorics; and . complicate and transform, not merely simplify and reify, public controversies (Schwarze, 2006, pp. 246253). Importantly, Schwarze recognizes that such accomplishments are situated and case-specific. Thus, while avoiding overarching or exaggerated claims, he reclaims melodrama as a potentially valuable strategy for environmental rhetoric. His five claims open up possibilities for further connections to, or critiques of, theories of rhetorical identification (e.g., Burke, 1969), moral conflict (e.g., Pearce & Littlejohn, 1997), public moral argument (e.g., Fisher, 1987), and narrative theory (e.g., Greimas, 1987). The essays in this forum explore these claims and their implications further, concluding with a response by Schwarze. In a time of polarized politics and growing ecological concern, the prospects and problems of environmental melodrama merit further scrutiny, and here we hope to expand the valuable conversation initiated by Schwarze. Kairos: Time to Get Down to it (Should Have Been Done Long Ago) Peter K. Bsumek In his essay, ‘‘Environmental Melodrama,’’ Schwarze (2006) makes a convincing case for melodrama. He is right: critics of environmental advocacy have ignored and denigrated the melodramatic frame for far too long. This is ironic because, as Peter K. Bsumek is Assistant Professor in the School of Communication Studies, James Madison University. Correspondence to: School of Communication Studies, James Madison University, MSC 2106, 1276 Harrison Hall, 54 Bluestone Drive, Harrisonburg, VA 22807, USA. Email: bsumekpk@jmu.edu Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 80 FORUM Schwarze notes, the use of melodrama in environmental controversies has been and continues to be ubiquitous. By rearticulating melodrama in contrast to comedy and tragedy, Schwarze demonstrates how melodrama, in the right circumstances, can transform ‘‘unrecognized environmental conditions into public problems;’’ unmask the way ‘‘distorted notions of the public interest conceal environmental degradation;’’ and overcome ‘‘public indifference to environmental problems by amplifying their moral and emotional dimensions’’ (p. 239). As students, critics, and practitioners of environmental communication, we are indebted to Schwarze for providing us with an exemplary case study that highlights the productive and constructive ‘‘rhetorical action’’ that can be preformed by melodrama in an environmental controversy*the case of asbestos contamination in Libby, Montana. More importantly, we are obliged to him for providing us with such a thorough explication of the melodramatic frame and for inviting us to think about the practical and theoretical implications of environmental melodrama. In this short missive, I want to focus on the practical and theoretical implications of circumstances and kairos that are raised by this essay. Circumstances and kairos are central to Schwarze’s reconceptualization of melodrama. For Schwarze, the denigration of melodrama and the valorization of comedy are the result of the assumed telos of each form. Comedy is presumed to be more humane because it operates from a perspective of charity, addresses the complexity of issues, and works to achieve social unification. In contrast, melodrama is presumed to be less humane because it operates from a polarizing perspective, simplifies issues, and promotes social division. Denigration based on these assumptions, Schwarze notes, is ironic because this characterization is itself an oversimplification of melodrama as a rhetorical form. A more complex view of melodrama, one that situates it in relation to contingent social circumstances, offers a rehabilitated view of the form. Schwarze argues that ‘‘promoting division and drawing sharp moral distinctions can be a fitting response to situations in which identification and consensus have obscured recognition of damaging material conditions and social injustices’’ (p. 242). This is why he concludes his essay by claiming that by focusing on the contingent relationship between circumstances and rhetorical forms, the telos of critical judgment shifts from a focus on the inherent qualities of rhetorical forms to ‘‘the relevance of kairos as a principle for critical judgment and rhetorical practice. For criticism, this conclusion interrupts the valorization of the comic frame in the discipline’’ and suggests that ‘‘critical judgment is better cast in terms of kairos: to what extent does a particular rhetorical intervention operate as a timely and opportune response to contingent circumstances and particular audiences?’’ (p. 257). Schwarze’s essay implores that the time has come for us to focus on time*not in the overly spatialized sense of the postmoderns (diachronic time, shifting epochs), but in the highly circumstantial sense of the Sophists. This essay attempts to do just that by highlighting three ironies, as I relate the theoretical issues of kairos and dramatic frames to my experiences as a local activist. First, I reflect on a recent ‘‘training session’’ I facilitated for the Executive Committee of Virginia Chapter of the Sierra Club. Second, I discuss a clean water movement in the Shenandoah Valley Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 81 whose strategies and tactics are grounded in the principles of collaboration*a movement that, ironically, provides little to collaborate on. . . because there is not enough conflict. Finally, I conclude with some thoughts on kairos and critical theory. Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 First Irony: An Irony of Theory and Practice In the spring of 2007, I was asked to give ‘‘a training’’ to our state Sierra Club Executive Committee on ‘‘issue framing.’’ The most significant portion of my presentation dealt with the difference between melodramatic and comic frames. My students and I had just finished reading and discussing Schwarze’s essay. Since my environmental communication course draws students mainly from three programs*political communication, conflict analysis and intervention, and environmental studies*we focused on the practical implications of the essay for advocates, policy makers, and resource managers. As you can imagine, given that mix of students, the discussion was lively. By the end of the week, we had generated a lot of ‘‘advantages’’ and ‘‘disadvantages’’ to both melodramatic and comic frames, and had a reasonably good list of situations that might call for one approach or the other. The students even came up with a list of hybrid situations*situations that they thought called for more than one approach. Needless to say, I showed up to give the training on issue framing with quite a lot to say about dramatic frames and advocacy. For me the great irony of ‘‘training day’’ was that while I had spent the past few weeks enamored with melodrama and excited about the new vocabulary I had for articulating its possibilities for rhetorical action, the members of the Virginia Sierra Club could not get enough of the comic frame. They were especially intrigued by the ‘‘face saving’’ possibilities that comically framed advocacy enabled, and the political and coalition building benefits that might be gained by framing issues without ‘‘vilifying’’ specific individuals, organizations, or behaviors. Three thoughts about frames and the field of environmental communication emerged for me from this experience. First, both melodrama and comedy provide us with powerful pedagogical tools and valuable heuristics. Second, I wonder how it could be that advocates are excited by the prospects of comic frames at a time when our field is excited about the prospect of theorizing melodrama. It felt as though our field and the local advocates were two ships passing in the night. One reason for this is probably that the Sierra Club in its Grassroots Training Manual teaches and coaches its members to utilize an explicitly melodramatic frame when constructing communication strategies for campaigns: To be compelling, stories must have the following core elements: a problem, a victim, a villain who is responsible and should be held accountable (This can be a group of people, such as the city council or a corporation, or an individual such as one politician), a hero (presumably the public who can make a difference by getting involved. . .), [and] a successful resolution. (Sierra Club, 1999) Another thought came to mind as I reflected on this training manual. If advocates are teaching and practicing melodrama, how could it have taken students of environmental communication so long to theorize its benefits? Surely these advocates know a 82 FORUM little something about advocacy and its rhetorical actions? Where have we been and what have we been doing? Third, if we, as a discipline, have been enamored with comedy for so long, how is it that these local advocates knew nothing of our obsession? Perhaps Cox (2007) is right; we are a discipline in crisis*too disconnected from the workaday world of environmental politics and advocacy. Perhaps the time has come for change. Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Second Irony: An Irony of Theory in Practice What are we to make of an essay that articulates and champions the melodramatic frame while simultaneously demonstrating the virtues of the comic frame with a virtuoso performance? As Schwarze notes in his essay, many critics are drawn to the comic frame because its primary telos is unification, and its primary attitude toward persuasion is charity. It is believed that this charitable attitude best affords us a way to sidestep the inevitable purification rituals and symbolic scapegoating that flow from dramatic frames that become rotten with their own absolutist perfection. However, it takes more than unification and charity to protect us from our own dramatic frames. Indeed, those who champion the comic frame often tend to ‘‘denigrate’’ (to use Schwarze’s term), or ‘‘debunk’’ (to use Burke’s term), rhetorics that are tragically or melodramatically framed. More importantly, this occurs all too often ‘‘out in the streets’’ (as Michael McGee might say). The Participant Handbook of the Virginia Natural Resources Leadership Institute (2007) (VNRLI), for example, teaches its participants about the virtues of dialogue and of participatory processes by juxtaposing dialogue and debate. It does so by defining debate as a knock down, drag-out affair in which ‘‘opponents line up against one another to seek (or invent) the weaknesses in others’ statements. Nobody ever admits wrong or uncertainty. The argument begins with the answers and participants defend their answers against all attack’’ (VRNLI, 2007, p. 15). It then goes on to describe the communication practices that are associated with debate: ‘‘Tactics may include verbal and physical intimidation, name-calling, labeling, and stereotyping. Deception and deliberate distortion of the opponents’ words are also often accepted as part of the game’’ (p. 15). Next, the handbook suggests a more desirable alternative to debate by asking its trainees to ‘‘think of the qualities you appreciate in good dialogue’’ and offers some examples, such as: ‘‘An assumption that you are speaking honestly, without a hidden agenda’’ (p. 15). Finally, the VRNLI handbook summarizes the lesson to be learned from the juxtaposition of dialogue and debate as follows: ‘‘The question then becomes how to create forums that nourish this type of productive dialogue rather than unproductive debate’’ (VRNLI, 2007, p. 15). The irony here is mind-boggling*the concept and practice of debate is labeled, stereotyped, and distorted. The VRNLI trainers are using a melodramatic frame to turn debate and debaters into villains in order to educate participants on a comic alternative. Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 83 This pedagogical frame is not without consequence. In the Shenandoah Valley, the Pure Water Forum is an organization that has taken the lead on advancing water quality issues. The Pure Water Forum is a model VRNLI organization*a forum of local businesses, governments, and citizens groups working together to identify problems, avoid and resolve conflict, and find solutions to issues of water quality in ‘‘the valley.’’ Many of its members have attended the VRNLI workshops. Unfortunately, the forum is also a model of diverted and co-opted political action. In the face of three years of fish kills in the Shenandoah Valley, in which 80% of the adult smallmouth bass and redbreast sunfish have died in the Shenandoah River, the forum still has trouble getting the state to provide enough money to fund research designed to find the cause of the fish kills. In addition, ‘‘the forum’s’’ leadership is unable or unwilling to suggest that agricultural and industrial wastewater management practices should be reexamined for fear of ‘‘blaming’’ anyone. In short, 80% of the fish in the Shenandoah River are dead, and there is nothing to collaborate about and no problem to solve because there is no conflict to resolve! Of course, the charitable critical response to this irony is to point out that the VRNLI trainers are not villains who are nefariously creating a polemic between debate and dialogue to advance their own interests (whatever those may be)*never mind that the workshops are ‘‘supported’’ by the USFS, the Virginia Poultry Federation, and Dominion Power. Rather, from a comic perspective, the thing to do is to suggest that they are mistaken about the processes of debate and the value of melodramatic frames, just as Schwarze does when he reminds our discipline that we have neglected and been less than charitable in our assessments of melodrama. Alternatively, perhaps the thing to do is to rhetorically constitute the VNRLI as they have financially constituted themselves*as ‘‘the tool of the man!’’ In either case, would we not be offering up a comic corrective? This example highlights, as does Schwarze’s essay, what are for Burke the more important aspects of the comic corrective: critical balance and self-reflexivity. For Burke the metaphor of balance is actually an analogy, which is drawn from the concept of ecological balance. Ecological balance, for Burke, is maintained by irony* what he calls an efficiency of inefficiency, ‘‘as big beasts would starve, if they succeeded in catching all the little beasts that are their prey*their lack of efficiency in the exploitation of their ability as hunters thus acting as efficiency on a higher level, where considerations of balance count for more than considerations of one-tracked purposive-ness’’ (Burke, 1937, 1984, p. 150). By analogy, critical balance is also maintained by irony. In this case, the comic frame of motives keeps us balanced because it shows us ‘‘how an act can ‘dialectically’ contain’’ two seemingly opposed ingredients and ‘‘makes us sensitive to the point at which one ingredient becomes hypertrophied, with a corresponding atrophy of the other’’ (Burke, 1984 [1937], pp. 196197). The comic corrective then keeps us balanced, to the extent that we are able to be self-reflexive and simultaneously act and critique, and to the extent that we are able to find both ‘‘A’’ and ‘‘not A’’*say, for example, unification and division*in any discourse*but especially in our own. Both melodrama and comedy, then, are methods for advancing a comic corrective, just as both debate and dialogue are 84 FORUM methods for creating unification (and division); just as both require co-operation among participants; and just as both seek to reshape society. In either case, our ability to recognize problems associated with hypertrophy and atrophy depends on where we draw the circumference of our definition of society. Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Third Irony: An Irony of Theory and Kairos Many critics will read Schwarze’s essay as an appropriate, timely and successful invention*a classic and masterful example of dissoi logoi*an example of how to make the weaker argument the stronger. They will praise the new productive possibilities provided by what seems to be a dialectical tension between melodrama and comedy. However, it is insulting to read Schwarze’s call for kairos merely in terms of judgments about the appropriate uses of melodrama or comedy in particular circumstances. Similarly, we insult Burke and his call for a critically balanced comic corrective when we dismiss melodrama and tragedy. Above all, Schwarze’s essay implores us to avoid critical stasis. It would be a tragedy, indeed, if we were to allow ourselves to turn melodrama into a ‘‘proper’’ category of rhetoric just as we have with comedy. The essay offers so much more than a dissoi logoi. It is a call for transcendence and a call for critical invention. We should remember that the essay does not conclude by asking us to look to melodrama as a valued dramatic frame; it concludes by imploring us to look to kairos, to the will to invent, and to ‘‘the timely and opportune response to contingent circumstances’’ (Schwarze, 2006, p. 257). Kairos, in this case, applies as much to us as critics and theorists as it does to the discourses and performances that we critique. As Poulakos suggests, the irony of kairos is that ‘‘what gets said kairotically strives to expand the frontiers of language and invite an audience to settle them’’ (1995, p. 62). Let us not settle. Let us avoid the domestication of kairos and the domestication of melodrama. Let us continue to reflect on the ironies that lurk in our theories and our practices. Let us heed the significance of those ironies by following Burke’s lead, as Schwarze does when he articulates the great irony associated with the denigration of melodrama at the hands of comedy. Let us remember that for Burke ‘‘irony is never Pharistic,’’ and that it is irony and its cohort, dialect, that prevent comedies from turning into tragedies (Burke, 1945, 1969, p. 513). Finally, let us, as Burke advises us, continue to expand the circumference of our thinking and to multiply our perspectives by searching for the ironies that can keep our theories from ‘‘settling.’’ ‘‘Irony arises when one tries, by the interaction of terms upon one another, to produce a development which uses all the terms. Hence, from the standpoint of this total form (this ‘perspective of perspectives’), none of the participating ‘subperspectives’ can be treated as either precisely right or wrong’’ (Burke 1945, 1969, p. 512). Let us, instead, press on past the dissoi logoi of melodrama and comedy to find additional aspects of melodrama and comedy, alternative frames, and new ways of responding to contingent circumstances. Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 85 The Transformative Potential of Environmental Melodrama and its Conflict (Resolution) Implications Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Gregg B. Walker This isn’t just the working men and their wives who are dying . . . . This could go on to the fourth generation within families. My grandchildren watched my mother die and they were terrified. They asked me if they would die of that, too. (Gayla Benefield, Libby, Montana resident, High Country News, March 13, 2000) My fears are if the [Red Dog] mine is opened all the fish we use will be affecting not just my tribe but all the tribes living on the Kuskokwim River . . . If the contaminants seep into the river all fish and game that are connected to the Kuskokwim [and] all our livelihood will be taken away. (Nick David, Jr., Native Alaskan, at the Region 10 Tribal Leaders Summit, 2006) I want my son to be able to go up to Carter/Crescent and ice fish with his dad as he grows up. This will only happen if this area remains open to snowmachine use, as it always has been (before Forest Service Plan). (Moose Pass, Alaska resident, Collaborative Learning Workshop, 2005) In his Quarterly Journal of Speech article, University of Montana Professor Steve Schwarze presents a compelling case for the importance of melodramatic rhetoric as part of environmental policy (justice, conflict, and decision-making) situations. The three statements above illustrate melodramatic rhetoric in different environmental policy situations: the Libby, Montana tragedy that Schwarze has studied (see Schwarze, 2003, 2005); water quality concerns of Native Americans/Alaskans; and family recreation issues expressed at a Seward Ranger District Collaborative Learning Workshop on the Kenai Peninsula, Alaska. These citizen statements are personal, yet part of the public sphere through media or as voiced to other participants in a public gathering. Schwarze’s essay confirms their status as melodrama and suggests that such statements may help transform environmental policy situations in noteworthy ways. Transformation is one of the many insights Schwarze presents in his provocative commentary on environmental melodrama. In the final section of his essay, he explains that his conception of melodrama ‘‘enables observation of the frame’s Gregg Walker is a Professor of Speech Communication and Adjunct Professor of Forest Resources, Marine Resource Management, and Applied Anthropology at Oregon State University, Corvallis, Oregon, USA. Correspondence to: Department of Speech Communication, Oregon State University, Corvallis, OR 97331-6199, USA. Email: gwalker@oregonstate.edu Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 86 FORUM transformative possibilities . . . . If we consider that the moral, monopathic and sociopolitical appeals of melodrama can reconfigure patterns of identification and generate new topics of controversy, then melodrama must be seen as more than a mere instrument of reification.’’ Schwarze asserts that ‘‘the rhetorical action of melodrama can actually complicate public understanding by enhancing perception of largely unrecognized issues and challenging the simplicity of dominant discourses.’’ Melodramatic appeals ‘‘can generate rhetorical action that complicates the realm of public controversy’’ (2006, p. 256, emphasis in original). Schwarze’s argument regarding the transformative potential of environmental melodrama has implications for conflict resolution and collaboration. In light of Schwarze’s views on environmental melodrama as transformation, these areas will be discussed. Statements like those featured at the beginning of this essay may contribute to some form of transformation, but do they contribute to conflict resolution? Conflict Resolution Schwarze’s analysis of melodrama and conflict could be interpreted as ‘‘antiresolution.’’ He surmises that ‘‘melodrama clarifies conflict through polarization’’ (p. 244, emphasis in original). Schwarze asserts that ‘‘while comedy seeks to reconcile conflict via compromises, melodrama sharpens conflict through a bipolar positioning of characters and forces’’ (p. 244). His advocacy features Heilman’s claim that ‘‘melodrama [takes] arms, comedy accept[s]. Melodrama is for victory or defeat, comedy for compromises’’ (quoted in Schwarze, 2006, p. 244). Furthermore, Schwarze contends that melodrama’s conflict ‘‘polarization is moralistic in character.’’ It ‘‘frames conflict not as a mere difference of opinion, but as evidence of fundamental moral clash’’ (p. 244, emphasis in original). If rhetorical action as melodrama polarizes conflict parties, defines outcome as winning or losing, and casts conflict as a moral battle, then constructive, mutually beneficial conflict resolution is not desired or likely. To the extent that melodrama transforms conflict into moral clashes between polarized parties, melodrama’s transformative force generates intractable conflicts. The stability of the parties’ core values and morals provides a foundation for unilateral action (e.g., litigation, civil disobedience, campaigning) rather than negotiation and compromise (Barash & Webel, 2002). If the substantive issues of the conflict are deeply embedded in the participants’ moral orders, then actions and decisions on these issues create winners and losers (Pearce & Littlejohn, 1997). There is risk in advocating any form of rhetorical action for the purpose of creating moral conflict. As Pearce and Littlejohn (1997) note, moral conflict may have harmful effects. When discussing monopathy, Schwarze remarks that ‘‘stark moral oppositions and the location of conflict between rather than within social actors encourage a unitary emotional identification with victors or victims’’ (p. 244). However, parties in a moral conflict may behave immorally or irrationally, even by their own standards, contending that the actions and policies of their adversaries forced such a response (Pearce & Littejohn, 1997, p. 73). In the extreme, one party Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 87 may regard another as a morally depraved enemy, and demonize or dehumanize that party. Doing so could encourage human rights violations or direct violence, as parties may come to believe that the capitulation or elimination of the other group is the only way to resolve the conflict (Pearce & Littlejohn, 1997). Is this the view of transformation that Schwarze advocates? One could conclude that Schwarze endorses destructive conflict escalation rather than constructive conflict resolution. Yet at a later point in the essay, Schwarze writes that melodramatic discourse features ‘‘seemingly simple storylines about environmental issues in order to amplify muted voices, expand the range of issues relevant to public decisionmaking, and invent new possibilities for creating a sustainable and healthy environment’’ (p. 257). This statement suggests that melodrama is a means for elevating discourse and asserting voice in a manner consistent with Senecah’s ‘‘trinity of voice’’ (Senecah, 2004). The trinity of voice framework includes participant access, standing, and influence; concepts seemingly compatible with Schwarze’s concerns about traditional discourse inhibiting or marginalizing parties affected by unjust environmental policy decisions and practices. Schwarze’s view of melodrama as transformative could therefore support the importance of transcendent discourse, conflict escalation, and constructive confrontation as features of managing and resolving conflicts well. In their comprehensive analysis of moral conflict, Pearce and Littlejohn (1997) see moral conflicts being managed through transcendent discourse, an emergent shared language through which parties can bridge their different world views. Transcendent discourse features eloquence. ‘‘To be eloquent is to represent the highest form of expression within a frame of rules adopted by a moral community,’’ Pearce and Littlejohn (1997)explain, adding that ‘‘Within a moral community, eloquent speech elicits attention, respect, and compliance.’’ Yet they caution: ‘‘Between moral communities, however, [eloquence] can create frustration, hatred, anger, and even violence’’ (p. 142). Consequently, just as Schwarze’s characterization of environmental melodrama risks intractability and even violence, so, too, does eloquence that is insensitive to the adversarial party. Melodrama as polarizing discourse and moral argument may escalate a conflict, increasing its intensity. Although conflict escalation is often destructive, it is not inherently so. Conflict escalation does increase the intensity and visibility of the conflict. Doing so may be strategic in order to increase perceptions of interdependence between the parties. ‘‘Constructive escalation occurs when you decide to make a conflict bigger, more important, and more visible,’’ Wilmot and Hocker (2001) explain. ‘‘You decide to confront for the sake of an important goal’’ (p. 246). Establishing or increasing the parties’ perception of interdependence contributes to a balance of power. In situations where power between the parties is significantly imbalanced, the low-power party may escalate the conflict in an effort toward power parity. As Folger, Poole, and Stutman (2005) point out, ‘‘In a situation where power is unbalanced, the greatest danger for weaker parties is that their needs will not be viewed as legitimate.’’ (p. 133). Escalation brings visibility to a weaker party’s positions and concerns. Without escalation, ‘‘stronger parties may be able to define 88 FORUM the terms and grounds of the conflict in their own favor’’ (p. 134). Wilmot and Hocker (2001) make a similar point about competitive power: Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Competitive power has its place, too. We view competitive power as being useful when the following conditions are in place: Crucial needs of one party are at stake*needs the person is not willing to compromise about unless no other option exists. These might be economic or personal survival, protection of children, avoidance of harm, or protection of a crucial sense of self. Competitive power might lead to the person using the strategy being taken seriously. Sometimes competition can lead to collaboration, making the playing field more level. (Wilmot & Hocker, 2001, p. 119). Consequently, Schwarze’s contention that ‘‘melodrama can situate a conflict on the social and political plane, clarifying issues of power that are obscured by privatizing rhetoric’’ (Schwarze, 2006, p. 246) seems consistent with conflict theorists’ views on power. More precisely, Schwarze’s claim draws attention to the importance of escalating conflict and employing competitive behaviors to assert and balance power. Melodramatic rhetoric action may be essential to this task. As Kreisberg (2003) observes, one condition for conflict to emerge ‘‘is for at least one party to believe that it can do something to change an adversary and/or the adversary’s conduct, thereby obtaining more of what it wants’’ (p. 85). Collaboration Although melodrama could escalate conflict and contribute to its entrenchment, could it be productive as part of a broader conflict resolution effort? Might melodramatic discourse, for example, be part of one’s advocacy in a collaborative negotiation? Do various collaborative approaches welcome melodramatic rhetoric? The method of constructive confrontation that Burgess and Burgess (1996, 2001) have developed to address intractable conflicts seems to accommodate melodrama. Burgess and Burgess (2001) explain that The first step towards more constructive confrontation is a commitment by the parties to use persuasion and moral argument as the primary component of their strategy. All too often parties conclude that the other side will never seriously consider arguments which challenge their position. Therefore, they abandon persuasive arguments in favor of force-based strategies designed to compel opponents to make concessions (p. 3). Persuasion and moral argument in a collaborative process may, as melodrama, ‘‘remoralize situations that have been demoralized by inaccuracy, displaying concerns that have been obscured by the reassuring rhetoric of technical reason’’ (Schwarze, 2006, p. 250). Johnson, Johnson, and Tjosvold’s (2000) ‘‘constructive controversy’’ process emphasizes argument as advocacy within a framework of deliberation and collaboration. They assert that ‘‘American democracy was founded on the premise that ‘truth’ results from free and open-minded discussion in which opposing points of view are advocated and vigorously argued’’ (p. 83). To the extent that Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 89 melodramatic rhetoric occurs in a manner that holds open the option of creative problem-solving and deliberative decision-making, it can contribute positively to a meaningful collaborative effort as ‘‘constructive controversy.’’ Collaborative Learning, an approach colleagues and I have developed and applied to numerous environmental and natural resource conflict situations in recent years, values persuasive activity that could be enacted as melodrama. A Collaborative Learning project progresses from dialogue to deliberation to decision. As it does so, participants are encouraged to argue constructively, both as inquirers and as advocates (Daniels & Walker, 2001). Collaborative argument is an important part of communication competence in a Collaborative Learning effort (Daniels & Walker, 2001, p. 142). Furthermore, a later stage of the Collaborative Learning process features deliberation (as collaborative argument/debate) about desirable and feasible change (Daniels & Walker, 2001, p. 21). Through such techniques as worksheets, group discussion, and mapping, and opportunities to share key points at the end or workshops, participants in a Collaborative Learning workshop can enact voice and communicate assertively and melodramatically (see Daniels & Walker, 2001; Walker, Daniels, & Cheng, 2006). The examples of statements presented at the outset of this essay appeared on a worksheet (the Tribal Leaders Summit) and at a verbal ‘‘key points go-round’’ at the end of a workshop (in Moose Pass, Alaska). These activities, and the melodramatic discourse that may occur as part of them, reflect a key objective of the Collaborative Learning approach. A second objective that Collaborative Learning does not pursue is the manipulation of the process to favor one group over another. Collaborative Learning values inclusiveness, and that may mean that the facilitators go to extraordinary lengths to provide access to the sorts of participants who normally do not have much power in conventional decision processes (e.g., finding ways to accommodate and reassure people whose literacy skills may be marginal). However, providing equality of opportunity is not the same as trying to steer the outcome toward the preferences of any particular group. Although advocacy groups that feel threatened by collaborative processes may contend that their constituents are uniquely unqualified to participate in collaborations (and therefore should not participate because of this competitive disadvantage), processes such as Collaborative Learning are quite egalitarian in creating opportunity for mutual persuasion, including melodramatic discourse within a constructive context (Daniels & Walker, 2001, p. 22). A Closing Comment In his body of work on environmental discourse generally and in his QJS essay specifically, Steve Schwarze has constructed a solid foundation for framing environmental rhetoric as melodrama. In doing so, he has made a case for environmental melodrama as a critical feature of environmental conflict and its transformation. In this commentary, I have considered how the transformative potential of environmental melodrama can contribute to conflict resolution. I have 90 FORUM Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 speculated about and questioned the role of melodrama in conflict resolution and collaboration processes. Melodramatic rhetoric in environmental policy situations can polarize and divide; it can elevate and accentuate; it can moralize and confront. In doing so, environmental melodrama can contribute to the intractability of conflict or to its resolution. Which path is preferable and under what circumstances warrant further exploration. Identity, Community, and Risk: Some Constitutive Consequences of Environmental Melodrama William J. Kinsella The following comments build upon Schwarze’s insights regarding environmental melodrama (Schwarze, 2006), in part through comparisons to another case study that can be placed within the same genre. Kinsella and Mullen (2007) have examined the case of the ‘‘downwinder’’ community affected by operations at the US government’s facility at Hanford, Washington, which produced plutonium for use in nuclear weapons from 1944 through 1989. In many ways, the story lines at Hanford and Libby are strikingly similar, although below I note at least one significant difference in the interpretive contexts for those stories. Kinsella and Mullen provide a theoretical framework for analysis of the Hanford case by integrating concepts from rhetoric, narrative theory, organizational theory, and the sociology of risk. Stressing the constitutive role of communication*a theme that Schwarze also engages*they argue that the downwinders’ narrative constitutes, rather than simply addresses, a set of environmental risks that would otherwise remain unrecognized. Furthermore, they argue, that narrative plays a constitutive role in producing the downwinder ‘‘risk community’’ and linking that community to a broader network of allies. Similar to Schwarze’s Libby case study, the Hanford case study addresses issues of rhetorical identification, community responses to environmental risk, and the transformation of a local (or regional) environmental dispute into a broader social and political engagement with powerful institutions. These two case studies can William J. Kinsella is Associate Professor in the Department of Communication at North Carolina State University. Correspondence to: Department of Communication, North Carolina State University, Campus Box 8104, 201 Winston Hall, Raleigh, NC 27695, USA. Email: wjkinsel@ncsu.edu Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 91 readily be placed within the same genre, along with a number of other environmental conflicts cited by Schwarze and by Kinsella and Mullen. Doing so facilitates a process of comparison and contrast that*as Schwarze suggests*can provide practical guidance on the strategic rhetorical choices facing communities affected by environmental risks. Those comparisons and contrasts can also be theoretically productive, enabling the development of ‘‘practical theory’’ (Cronen, 2001) in the domain of environmental conflict. Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Hanford and Libby: Commonalities and Contrasts As at Libby, the Hanford case began with an emerging recognition of environmental risks by community members, followed by revelations that institutional actors had been aware of those risks previously, but had not informed the public. In both cases, melodramatic rhetoric served to mobilize and unify community members. While Schwarze focuses his analysis on the uses and effects of melodramatic rhetoric, Kinsella and Mullen ground theirs in a broader theoretical framework. Here I select two components of that framework*a Burkean approach to identification and a recognition of multiple, nested interpretive contexts*to organize a comparison of the two cases. Burkean Themes at Hanford Schwarze effectively identifies some limitations of Burkean rhetorical theory, and in response he offers melodramatic rhetoric as an alternative to Burke’s valorization of the comic form. On my reading, his essay is not fundamentally hostile to Burke; rather, he seeks to complement Burkean approaches, and thus to expand the possibilities for rhetorical choice. One of his critiques of Burke is that although the comic form seeks unification through transcendence, unification may not always be a desirable goal; alternatively, melodrama can serve a useful function by foregrounding differences between empowered and disempowered groups. Here unification operates within subaltern communities or counterpublics (Asen & Brouwer, 2001), while difference operates more broadly to foreground relations of power. In the Hanford case, a melodramatic narrative did serve to illuminate power differences between the US Department of Energy (DOE) and the downwinder community. However, that same narrative also fostered a more distributed network of identifications linking the Hanford downwinders, affected communities at other DOE sites, members of Congress, independent scientists and medical professionals, activist groups more concerned with nuclear weapons than with health risks, and a broader public alerted to the situation through media coverage. Using two concepts from Burke’s theory of identification (Burke, 1969; see also Cheney, 1983, 1991), Kinsella and Mullen argue that the downwinder narrative simultaneously fostered dissociation from the federal government (a significant disruption of the patriotic loyalty that had formerly characterized the region surrounding Hanford), and association with a broad range of sympathetic audiences. Identification and ‘‘unity of 92 FORUM Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 feeling’’ (Schwarze, 2006, p. 251) were, indeed, reconfigured, but the outcome was a complex, multipolar system of relationships. Although the Hanford case can be read through the lens of melodrama, Burke’s emphasis on comedy (or more appropriately here, his concept of the ‘‘tragicomic’’) also resonates with the downwinder narrative. As an example, Kinsella and Mullen recount the downwinders’ appropriation of a government document describing how early in Hanford’s operational history, troops would chase and corner reluctant cows to measure their radiation exposures. Using this document to depict the Hanford staff as incompetent bunglers in the Keystone Cops tradition, the downwinders embedded a comic scene within their overarching melodrama. Indeed, the popular image of melodrama recognizes the recurrent use of this tactic, as in comic portrayals of the greedy, mustachioed villain. Symbolic Convergence and ‘‘Multiple Melodramas’’ Another component of Kinsella and Mullen’s analytical framework is symbolic convergence theory and its related method, fantasy theme analysis. Bormann, Cragan, and Shields (1996) cite the Cold War as a ‘‘paradigm case’’ for symbolic convergence theory, noting that more than 20 extant fantasy theme analyses deal with Cold War events. The Cold War, of course, was an overarching interpretive framework for the rhetoric of Hanford, used by the federal government to cultivate patriotic support and to warrant secrecy and exclusionary, technocratic decision-making (Kinsella, 2001). The Cold War frame distinguishes the Hanford case from Schwarze’s Libby case. In the latter case, Schwarze argues that melodramatic rhetoric enabled an effective community resistance to a system of corporate power. A narrative of corporate greed emerged, in which profit was the sole motive for withholding information about health risks from the community. In the Hanford case, profit was also a motive for the contractors who operated the facility and conducted health effects studies funded by the Department of Energy. Because of a close identification between those contractors and their government sponsors, that motive may have also penetrated into the DOE’s decision-making. However, profit could not be construed as the sole motive, despite the efforts of some downwinders and their allies to do so. The Cold War frame provided a crucial additional warrant for the government’s withholding of information and restriction of deliberation. Two melodramas competed for interpretive authority at Hanford: a narrative of government misconduct and/or incompetence, and a grand narrative of conflict with the Soviet Union. The enormous power of the Cold War narrative (cf. Nadel, 1995) may have contributed to a less decisive outcome at Hanford; although the downwinders were successful in significant ways, they may not have succeeded as fully as the members of the Libby community. This outcome has added relevance in the present political context, in which a new ‘‘master melodrama’’ of national security threatens to once again constrain democratic deliberation. Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 93 Concluding Comments: On Rhetorical Genres and Practical Theory Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Rhetorical theory has traditionally been aligned with the principle of phronesis, or practical wisdom. One goal of Schwarze’s essay is to demonstrate how rhetorical case studies can be compared and combined cautiously, to produce practical guidance for communities subjected to environmental risks and harms. Through those case studies, community members can engage more effectively with the powerful institutions that so often monopolize environmental decision making. Schwarze has made an important contribution to that goal by focusing attention on the genre of environmental melodrama, and continued attention to that genre appears wellwarranted. Environmental Devils Terence Check As rhetorical scholars are well aware, Burke (1968) identified scapegoating as a central feature of societies burdened by collective guilt. In his essay, ‘‘Environmental Melodrama,’’ Schwarze (2006) recognized this pattern as a feature of environmental narratives, arguing that melodrama ‘‘frames situations as confrontations between the virtuous and the villainous, and encourages audiences to take sides in such confrontations in order to repair the moral order’’ (p. 251). That villains are central to rhetorical narratives both real and imagined should come as no surprise to communication scholars, even as our ‘‘scientific world view lulls us into thinking we have progressed beyond a primeval symbolism of us-versus-them’’ (Carter, 1996, p. 25). However, Schwarze (2006) saw rhetorical possibilities in melodrama, including the use of villains to heighten moral awareness of environmental threats. He defended it as ‘‘an enticing rhetorical strategy for environmental advocates’’ (p. 240), and called on environmental communication scholars and activists to seek the ‘‘conditions that are more or less favorable for melodramatic intervention’’ (p. 256). In response to Schwarze’s essay, I argue that the central feature of a melodramatic narrative is the presence of a rhetorical devil and I explicate its features. While affirming the potential of melodrama in some cases, I raise questions about its ability to mobilize the public on global environmental threats, and I remain concerned by the possibility that it can distract attention from core issues. Terence Check is an Associate Professor of Communication at St. John’s (MN) University and the College of St. Benedict. Correspondence to: Department of Communication, St. John’s University, Collegeville, MN 56321, USA. Email: tcheck@csbsju.edu Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 94 FORUM Environmental devils*those secular agents that constitute the villains in environmental melodramas*are remarkably similar to the theological Devil that inspires them. The religious devil is a fallen angel of God, and thus it represents power. Melia (1989) claimed that the attributes of a symbolic secular devil ‘‘are no less stringent than those required by the sacred counterpart’’ and he identified power as a key characteristic of a rhetorical devil (p. 416). This echoed Burke’s (1945) description of a scapegoat as a ‘‘concentration of power’’ (p. 407). Further, the extent of the devil’s power must be proportional to the degree of guilt society carries. Given the frustration environmental advocates feel over the rapid deterioration of the planet, they must locate a worthy villain to achieve the ‘‘‘catharsis’ which will ‘stylistically’ or ‘symbolically’ wash away this guilt’’ (Holland, 1959, p. 75). Wealthy corporations such as W.R. Grace and ExxonMobil certainly fit this description, but even lesserknown entities can be environmental devils if they acquire the infrastructure to destroy the planet*bulldozers, chainsaws, oil rigs, and smokestacks*given that these tools are loaded with the symbolism of violence and pollution. Although rhetorical devils in any context are imbued with power, environmental devils in particular are associated with greed and indifference toward future generations. Environmental devils are typically infatuated with economic profits at the expense of natural ecosystems. They are not constrained by laws and flaunt them whenever possible. Alsford (2006), who wrote about fictional characters such as the Borg from Star Trek, argued they take special status as iconic villains because ‘‘everything that they encounter is to be regarded as a resource, something that can be consumed and used. The villain is, first and foremost, a user’’ (p. 132). Alsford claimed the ‘‘essential difference between the hero and the villain’’ is that villains do not see themselves connected to the world (p. 137). Thus, an environmental devil views the natural world as fit for exploitation and is indifferent about the impact of its actions on future generations. Rhetorical devils are widespread, since the Devil ‘‘is omnipresent’’ (Kohak, 1975, p. 56). Multinational corporations meet this criterion easily, but so can smaller groups or even individuals as long as they represent evils of the larger community. For example, not only did the captain of the Exxon Valdez represent a company with global economic interests, but also as a flawed person he symbolized the evils of alcoholism, and as such served as a synecdoche for the sins of personal indulgence and irresponsibility related to drinking-driving. In addition, if one confines the devil to a particular physical location, it can nonetheless acquire significance if it threatens something precious and unique. The fact that the devil ruins something original, rare, or sublime heightens the emotional pain, particularly if the loss of the unique is ‘‘juxtaposed against the usual, the ordinary, the vulgar, that which is fungible or interchangeable’’ (Cox, 1982, p. 229). The rhetorical devil is deceitful; it is ‘‘chameleon-like,’’ changing ‘‘its colors according to the circumstances’’ (Braaten, 2000, p. 102). Theologically, ‘‘in the struggle with God for the winning of souls, the devil has to play tricks’’ to win over admirers who might otherwise recognize it (Florescu, 1975, p. 74). In the realm of environmental policy, corporations engage in a variety of tactics that mask their true Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 95 intentions. One of them is ‘‘greenwashing,’’ a form of ‘‘public relations propaganda’’ intended to give polluting companies a green image (Greenwashing, 2006, p. 1). Another tactic is the creation of citizen front groups that provide an illusion of grassroots support for corporate policies (Stauber & Rampton, 1995). Still another ploy is the creation of public hearings, where officials sometimes feign concern for public complaints only to ultimately ignore citizen input (Daniels & Walker, 2001). Corporations have also funded scientific studies with predetermined results, used media to shape public opinion on environmental policies, and used lawsuits to intimidate activists (Beder, 1998). The rhetorical devil ‘‘is, by definition, quintessentially evil [but] is also, paradoxically, strangely attractive’’ (Melia, 1989, p. 416). Without this feature, the devil would not be consubstantial with those who ‘‘would ritualistically cleanse themselves by loading the burden of their own iniquities upon it’’ (Burke, 1945, p. 406). Corporations that despoil the environment also claim to provide local communities with economic benefits and wider publics with the resources to sustain comfortable ways of living. These attributes function to make the environmental devil appealing, particularly in those instances when the consequences of industrialism are remote and invisible, compared to benefits that seem immediate and tangible. The environmental devil often poses an immediate threat to the environment, thus requiring urgent action by victimized publics. This sense of urgency may not exist if the devil has masked its true nature, but once the disguise is revealed there is a pressing need to rid oneself of the real or symbolic contamination. The devil also preys on the weak and powerless in a society. An environmental devil may try to exploit natural spaces and non-human animals, or it may seek out vulnerable human communities lacking the political organization or resources to resist polluting industries. An environmental devil, then, must be powerful; it must be greedy and indifferent to the violence it causes; it must be ubiquitous either in its physical scope or in the evils it represents; it often immediately threatens that which is unique and precious; it is deceitful and cunning; it preys upon those who are defenseless; and despite all of this, it is attractive to many who admire its qualities. With these features, the rhetorical devil may function as a compelling villain in an environmental melodrama. Schwarze’s (2006) description of W.R. Grace fulfills these characteristics, which is perhaps why the case served as a compelling justification for melodramatic intervention. What of other environmental threats? Many scientists have asserted that global warming ‘‘is the most severe problem that we are facing today*more serious even than the threat of terrorism’’ (King, cited in Speth, 2005, p. 203). However, unlike terrorism, where rhetors can point to foreign foes and diabolical acts, environmental advocates have struggled to frame climate change in melodramatic terms. This is because there is no clear villain; the causes of climate change are diverse and systemic; the consequences and threats are not immediate; it is not prone to a quick solution; and the offending acts are tied to economic progress, one of the many God terms of our age (Weaver, 1953, p. 216). In fact, on this issue, opponents of environmental legislation have co-opted the melodramatic frame for their own purposes, as when the United States Senate passed a resolution in 1997 condemning the Kyoto treaty. Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 96 FORUM Even those lawmakers who agreed with the science of climate change succumbed to the emotional rhetoric of critics who accused China of gaining an unfair advantage over the US by virtue of exemptions from some of the treaty’s provisions. Schwarze (2006) may be right that ‘‘melodrama can foreground the moral dimension of all human actions’’ in a manner that overcomes ‘‘the reassuring rhetoric of technical reason’’ (p. 250), but in the case of Kyoto, this hurt the cause of environmentalism. However, Schwarze acknowledged that appeals to melodrama are bounded by situational exigencies. Other environmental controversies may be better suited for this type of tactic. Advocates have used melodrama successfully in cases such as the Natural Resources Defense Council’s BioGems campaign in 2000, which halted the construction of a Mitsubishi salt factory near the San Ignacio lagoon in Mexico, the home of a gray whale birthing area. In cases like this, environmentalists can invoke appeals against a rhetorical devil, leading to ‘‘corporate boycotts [that] often villainize a particular organization or industry by demonstrating how their actions victimize unsuspecting citizens’’ or animals (Schwarze, 2006, p. 247). Moving beyond the features of an environmental devil and the likelihood of locating controversies where its use might be plausible, critics and practitioners alike should consider a more fundamental question: what type of identity does a rhetorical devil demand from its audience? In the realm of environmental policy, does a rhetorical devil challenge assumptions related to growth and progress, or does it divert attention from their interrogation as ideals in a consumer culture? Critics of melodrama have cautioned it may divert public attention away from systemic reforms. Writing about the use of melodrama in environmentally themed films, Ingram (2000) summarized several concerns, including ‘‘the tendency of melodrama to construct environmental issues as individualized’’ conflicts that ‘‘simplify the complex, often ambiguous allocation of blame and responsibility in such matters’’ (p. 2). Further, theorists have cautioned against the use of scapegoats in public controversies, noting how demagogues such as Hitler have used this tactic to advance their own despicable causes (Burke, 1941; Allport, 1948). The construction of literal and figurative devils may worsen this tendency, as it strips audiences of personal responsibility for their actions (May, 1975). Schwarze (2006) offered a counterpoint to these assumptions, arguing based on the case of Libby that ‘‘the personification of villains also can point precisely at a system’s pressure points and provide the motive force for sustaining social critique’’ (p. 247). Perhaps the best way for advocates to do this is through use of oppositional arguments that block enthymematic assumptions. In their essay on the anti-fur movement, Olson and Goodnight (1994) contended that advocates constructed arguments that inverted the social and economic meanings of fur. Instead of a commodity associated with luxury and wealth, advocates redefined the social meaning of fur so that it represented cruelty. It seems plausible that environmental devils could serve the same function as ‘‘acts of interruption’’ that question dominant narratives (Pezzullo, 2001). However, it is unclear whether an environmental melodrama similar to that seen in Libby has the power to generate the kind of widespread re-evaluation of corporate Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 97 practices needed to confront national or global environmental threats. Some have argued an event larger in scope and significance is needed to invoke that kind of response. According to Speth (2005), ‘‘sweeping policy change happens when a major wave of new and previously apathetic citizens are attracted to an issue,’’ usually the result of a ‘‘major event or ‘crisis’ [that] can help redefine the issue and attract wide attention’’ (p. 199). If such an exigence involved the presence of an environmental devil, could it have the power to disrupt enthymematic assumptions about growth and progress on a large scale? An answer to this question might lie in an examination of past melodramas of significance. One of the most prominent environmental melodramas in American environmental history remains the Exxon Valdez oil spill. In the late evening hours of 23 March 1989, the Exxon Valdez collided into a submerged reef in Prince William Sound, spilling more than 11 million gallons of oil into Alaskan waters. Oil company officials failed to recover most of the spill, and it quickly blanketed beaches and wildlife, resulting in the worst oil spill in North American history (Davidson, 1990; Keeble, 1999). Public outrage was high, and people directed their anger at two villains: Joseph Hazelwood, the captain of the supertanker, and the Exxon Corporation. Both agents fulfilled the qualities of effective rhetorical devils. Further, there was widespread belief that the event altered public thinking on environmental issues. Sancton (1989) wrote in Time that ‘‘the Valdez spill convinced all but the most skeptical observers that humanity was courting ecological disaster’’ (p. 60). Reflecting on the disaster, some scholars have reached a similar conclusion. For example, Kellner (1990) argued that the television news coverage of the incident ‘‘pointed to the need to provide stronger environmental protection and to curb the self-interest of big corporations’’ (p. 109), and Schwarze (2006) mentioned the event briefly in his essay, arguing that the ‘‘depiction of oilsoaked birds after the Exxon Valdez crash encouraged sympathy for innocent victims and brought the ‘costs’ of oil dependence home to audiences’’ (p. 252). However, the transformative power of melodrama in even this defining case is questionable. For one, Hazelwood became a scapegoat because blood alcohol tests conducted hours after the accident showed he had consumed an unacceptable amount of alcohol, leading to suspicions that drinking had caused the grounding. Revelations about Hazelwood’s past drinking problems only further entrenched this narrative. This functioned to divert attention from the environmental issues raised by the spill, such as the nation’s dependence on oil and the costs of oil production and exploration. Ultimately, the Hazelwood narrative resulted in technical proposals (breathalyzer tests for skippers, tugboat escorts and double hulls for tankers), encouraging audiences to view the spill as a transportation problem, not an environmental one (Check, 1993, 1994). As for Exxon’s role in the melodrama, the public narrative centered on the company’s incompetence and inability to clean up the spill. While the crisis communication scholarship widely viewed Exxon’s response to the spill as a public relations debacle (Tyler, 1992; Williams & Treadaway, 1992; Benoit, 1995), the melodramatic framing of the villain in this way failed to function as an argument that might have challenged the assumption that society was capable of cleaning large oil Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 98 FORUM spills. Rather than situating the event on a moral or political plane that might have rendered a critique of consumption and/or a reconsideration of oil drilling practices and policy, the melodrama involving Exxon-as-devil directed attention towards technical issues about the proper way to respond to oil spills (Check, 1997). The construction of rhetorical devils as part of a melodramatic frame is a common resource for advocates of social change (Carter, 1997). Schwarze’s essay is an important reminder to keep melodrama at the forefront of critical attention. There may be serious limitations to its use in some contexts, since environmental conflicts using a melodramatic frame require a rhetorical devil that is powerful, ubiquitous, deceitful, and identifiable. The use of this devil must coincide with a strategy that Schwarze (2006) argued must counter ‘‘the ideological simplifications of dominant public discourses’’ (p. 255). However, while the devil in an environmental narrative may foster indignation directed at particular company, its ability to generate widespread change in belief and attitude remains doubtful, as the Exxon case points out. Although I remain pessimistic about the successful use of environmental melodrama on issues such as global warming, the environmental devil has great potential for social critique in some cases. Even though the construction of Exxon as a villain failed to generate widespread systemic criticism after the Valdez spill, a recent campaign by a collaboration of environmental and public advocacy groups to ‘‘Exxpose Exxon’’ has established a clear link between the company and efforts to derail a national energy policy and perpetuate a consumption ethic. The campaign highlights how advocates can channel indignation of a devil into a productive social and environmental critique. The presence of a devil, after all, has a way of bringing moral clarity to some situations. ‘‘It may actually be that by recognizing radical evil and naming it we may gain the tools with which to fight against it,’’ wrote Russell (1986); ‘‘An understanding of radical evil may help us get past palliative measures . . . to the heart of the matter’’ (p. 300). Holding Out for a Hero Tarla Rai Peterson I agree with Bsumek’s claim that Schwarze’s essay makes the case for kairos, or sophistry at its best, more than for melodrama. And yet*my initial response was Tarla Rai Peterson is Boone & Crockett Chair of Wildlife and Conservation Policy at Texas A&M University. Correspondence to: 2258 TAMU, Texas A&M University, College Station, TX 77843-2258, USA. Email raipeterson@neo.tamu.edu Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 99 confessional: for years, I have closed essays with an inspirational peon to the rhetorical responsibility of perpetuating uncertainty, opening closed doors, and irritating the margins; how ironic to have become a lap dog for the comic frame. Despite my confession, however, I cannot resist noting that Schwarze sells comedy short when he claims it ‘‘seeks to reconcile conflict via compromise.’’ Just as in the not-so-distant past, the court fool has license to utter blasphemy that would get anyone else killed. Still, it is relatively easy for a well orchestrated few to drown the voice of the fool in ribald laughter. Although I remain convinced that, in most situations, the comic frame has more potential for humane redress of harms, Schwarze makes a strong case for the importance of leaving open the possibility of melodramatic response. The current crisis (of climate, democracy, terror, etc.) lends special legitimacy to Schwarze’s critique. His essay suggests that, in our desire to be counted among the rational, rhetorical critics are hideously complicit in the post1984 silence that grips much of the nominally democratic world. Although it differs significantly from Schwarze’s Libby case, the debate surrounding climate change exemplifies a case where melodrama may achieve what comedic efforts have not. The fact that these two cases, in many ways so different, both cry for a melodramatic frame, further strengthens Schwarze’s argument. The debate over climate change requires transformation from the personal to the political plane and the clarification of obscured power relationships. Without attention to moral dimensions and emotional connections, the debate is going nowhere. By playing up the centrality of the moral dimension and emotional connections, a melodramatic story may complicate and transform this oversimplified and narrowly defined conflict beyond the current topics of short-term economically defined costs and benefits. Most climate scientists have long adopted the premise that global climate change is occurring at anomalously rapid rates compared to historical trends, and that anthropogenic (human-induced) sources of greenhouse gases (primarily carbon dioxide) are a significant causal factor. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) is an international scientific project representing hundreds of scientists that have produced a series of reports synthesizing scientific information on climate change and its effects on ecological conditions, all of which support this premise. Their 2007 summaries for policy makers include a report on physical science, one on impacts, suggestions for mitigation, and a synthesis report (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, 2007). It is clear that the IPCC reports recognize a substantial degree of uncertainty about climate change cause and effect. There are also many sources of political commentary about climate change taking positions contrary to those adopted in the IPCC reports. They suggest that climate change is not occurring, or that if it is occurring, it is a natural and temporary cycle of climate variation (e.g., Idso & Idso, 1998). On the other hand, there are also many scientists who believe the IPCC has been too cautious in communicating the potential severity of climate change and its effects (e.g., Huntingford & Lowe, 2007; Kerr, 2007). Moreover, many observers charge that the international consensus process weakened the official assessments presented in the IPCC reports (Bohannon, 2007). Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 100 FORUM Despite the relatively strong scientific consensus, incredible political pressures have been brought to bear on these scientists. Frank Luntz is only one of dozens of spin masters who have made fortunes discrediting climate science. To get an inkling of how much money goes into discrediting the science, one only needs to google the term ‘‘climate change.’’ Dozens of groups have formed to rebut the science, sometimes investing significant corporate resources in clothing themselves as scientists. They hire individuals to lend credentials to the effort (PhD, MD, DVM, etc.), reference articles written by climate scientists, and appeal to common sense. Many otherwise retiring climate scientists have ventured into the public arena in an attempt to defend themselves from apparently deliberate misinformation. Once there, they are frustrated by their own inability to declare with 100% certainty that the precise severity of storm A was caused solely by climate change. Political opponents of those who advocate state, national and international policies that respond to climate change take advantage of the fact that climate change occurs in time and space far beyond human experience. Most people experience climate as the shift between summer and winter, beachcombing and skiing. To understand climate change, however, we need to think in terms of epochs. Even thinking about the seventh generation is largely irrelevant. Geological time dwarfs the span of time humans have lived on the earth, but that is the time scale for climate. Space is just as challenging. Climate change is something we think about as occurring elsewhere. For example, unless they live on the gulf coast, few US residents can imagine the dramatic shifts climate change has in store for them. Britain’s Daily Mirror responded to the IPCC reports by noting that climate change would bring the UK ‘‘sunny temperatures and agriculture booms with new summer crops such as exotic fruits’’ (Prince, 2007). If we cannot imagine the problems, motivation to imagine mitigation policies seems unlikely. Even if we can imagine policies to mitigate climate change, entrenched economic and political forces resist change that threatens their preeminent position within current hierarchies. They boldly assert that change would hurt the economy, purchase science when needed, and council caution in the face of uncertainty. A melodramatic account may destabilize power configurations used to maintain current policy. The debate is littered with potential heroes, victims, and villains. Alaskan villages collapse into the Bering Sea as the permafrost that was their foundation melts. College students in Vermont walk across their state, and then initiate similar events across the US to pressure lawmakers to cut greenhouse gas emissions. Islanders drown or narrowly escape when their villages sink into the Pacific. The British government parts ways with the US government over the issue of climate change policy. California’s Republican ‘‘governator’’ uses his Hollywood charisma to initiate state-level policies designed to mitigate climate change, and accepts invitations to take the message to Britain’s Conservatives. African children die of dehydration when heat-induced drought claims their community’s water supply. The US government arrogantly rejects foreign aid offered in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. The fossil fuel industry dominates discussions of US energy policy, and insists on government censorship of climate science. Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 101 Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Environmental communication scholars may dismiss this issue as too obvious to be intellectually interesting. They may laugh at the obvious power plays. However, the material reality is that a small group of humans continues to engineer a policy that is destroying the earth as a habitat for humanity and many other species. If our contemporary experience with the chaos engendered by mass migrations in Africa and Asia tells us anything, it should warn that climate change poses a far greater security threat than the presence of undocumented dishwashers in our restaurants. The situation cries out for a melodramatic script. Perhaps environmental melodrama will enable us to both imagine and galvanize the global community that must act to mitigate climate change. Environmental Melodrama: Explorations and Extensions Steve Schwarze One of my motives in writing ‘‘Environmental Melodrama’’ was to provoke the kind of reflection that my colleagues have engaged in here. Each one takes seriously the notion that melodrama should be taken seriously. Their work carefully considers a range of contingent possibilities that might follow from melodramatic intervention at different levels and sites of conflict within ‘‘the green public sphere’’ (Torgerson, 1999). Such is the way of environmental communication scholarship. Echoing the words of my colleagues in organizational communication, it is gratifying to see an illustration of how ‘‘environmental communication [is] able to bring together scholars from otherwise disparate sub-disciplines’’ in order to give ‘‘attention to issues and problems as centers of intellectual energy’’ (Ganesh, Zoller, & Cheney 2005, p. 186). In different ways, Pete Bsumek’s and Gregg Walker’s essays confirm an observation that propels my original piece: polarizing rhetoric is anathema to most players in the realm of environmental controversy. Bsumek, for example, sees a clear preference for the comic frame over melodrama among Sierra Clubbers in Virginia. Their preference may be based on a sound assessment of political dynamics or rhetorical efficacy, or the sheer desire to try something new. However, might this attraction also be rooted Steve Schwarze is an Associate Professor in the Department of Communication Studies at the University of Montana. Correspondence to: Department of Communication Studies, University of Montana, Missoula, MT 59812, USA. Email: steven.schwarze@umontana.edu Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 102 FORUM in a mistaken understanding of melodrama, in a hasty judgment about its possibilities? Walker explicates the conventional wisdom about the dark side of melodrama before proceeding to discern melodrama’s more transformative potential. With support from Pearce and Littlejohn (1997), Walker suggests, ‘‘In the extreme, one party may regard another as a morally depraved enemy, demonize or dehumanize that party. Doing so could encourage human rights violations or direct violence, as parties may come to believe that the capitulation or elimination of the other group is the only way to resolve the conflict.’’ We certainly do not want that. However, is this extreme outcome necessary? Probable? Like any rhetorical phenomenon, the effects of melodrama are notoriously difficult to pin down. However, resistance to melodrama seems to be rooted in a rather sure sense of its effects, as well as its normative value: melodrama oversimplifies and polarizes; this entails scapegoating and direct violence, which are bad. This deeply oversimplified view of melodrama should concern rhetoricians since it is so deeply arhetorical. Setting aside skepticism about rhetorical causality in general, resistance to melodrama seems to be rooted in the assumption that contingent and unusually extreme effects of some melodramatic interventions are necessary and typical effects. These assumptions and hasty judgments about melodrama led me to an approach that I observe in Kevin DeLuca’s work on image events. For DeLuca (1999), hostility to the image as a rhetorical form and image events as a mode of advocacy does not suggest a disciplinary truth so much as an opportunity for new theory: if conventional wisdom finds fault with a particular rhetorical practice, (re)theorize it in order to discern its productive possibilities. That was the task of ‘‘Environmental Melodrama.’’ I hoped to recuperate melodrama as a concept*rather than a mere epithet*and explore its strengths and weaknesses as a frame for environmental advocacy. Each of the responses advances that exploration, as they refract melodrama through a different set of theoretical or practical concerns. Bsumek’s comes closest to capturing the spirit of my original essay and the implications of melodramatic rhetoric for environmental politics. His analysis of the Virginia Natural Resources Leadership Institute and the Pure Water Forum is particularly salient in this regard. Not only does Bsumek savor the irony of how these groups deploy melodramatic principles to criticize melodrama, he also shows that their preferred rhetorical strategies are driven by their preferred political strategies: collaboration and consensus-based decision-making (rather than, say, petition or confrontation). Due to their disposition toward certain mechanisms and forums for political activity, it is not surprising that the comic frame is preferred to the melodramatic. However, that preference is reinforced by a distorted view of melodrama that colors their view of agonistic modes of politics. In other words, the preference for comic rhetoric and collaborative processes is mutually reinforcing, as is the aversion to melodramatic rhetoric and agonistic politics. This interrelationship of rhetorical strategy and political alternatives can constrain practicing advocates if their understanding of rhetorical strategy is faulty or limited. On this point, Bsumek’s case indicates how rhetorical theory can have direct practical Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 103 relevance. Seeing the productive possibilities of melodrama might encourage these groups to think beyond collaboration and consider alternative strategies for political engagement. Yet even within a collaborative orientation, Gregg Walker finds a place for melodrama. While he remains attentive to the destructive possibilities of melodrama, Walker discerns its positive potential through the lens of ‘‘constructive controversy.’’ Most importantly, he reminds readers that conflict escalation and the exercise of competitive power can facilitate beneficial forms of confrontation. Drawing on several conflict theorists, Walker argues that confrontation can be constructive when it heightens a sense of interdependence, brings visibility to a weaker party, or demonstrates that fundamental needs are at stake. In all these ways, constructive confrontation foregrounds issues of power, and in Walker’s view, ‘‘melodramatic rhetoric may be essential to this task.’’ In making these claims, Walker confirms two important points from my original essay. First, melodrama’s transformative and oppositional potential lies in how it configures relations of power. Its productive possibilities are contingent on enthymematic assumptions about imbalanced power relationships between parties to a conflict. To the extent that collaborative processes presume the equality of participants, this may be another reason why Bsumek’s advocates in Virginia shy away from melodramatic rhetoric. Second, the principle of kairos is key to discerning the value of melodrama in environmental controversy. Since the need for confrontation and constructive conflict escalation is not the same across situations, melodramatic intervention needs to be evaluated on a case-by-case basis. Walker’s essay also draws attention to how rhetorical strategies migrate between levels of communicative interaction. His application suggests extending research into how particular rhetorical resources serve these needs of environmental advocates in different contexts, and how those resources work differently under conditions of dissemination (via mass media, public address, or social movement campaigns) versus face-to-face interaction (conversation, dispute resolution, collaboration). Practical implications from this research could improve the communication strategies of all parties to environmental controversy, and thereby enhance the overall quality of public discourse on environmental issues. Practical implications also are evident in Terry Check’s excellent essay on environmental devils. He demonstrates the unique role that devil-villains play in melodrama, while also confirming my argument that multiple rhetorical elements must converge for melodrama to facilitate substantive transformation. His discussions of Exxon and Captain Hazelwood show that a rhetorical devil is a necessary aspect of melodrama, but insufficient on its own to generate oppositional arguments and social critique. Without articulation to moral concerns and broader political dynamics, the devil in melodrama loses its capacity to challenge enthymematic assumptions and reorient public controversy. Environmental advocacy, then, must be attentive to the interaction of rhetorical appeals in a given case to realize melodrama’s transformative potential. Check’s analysis, for example, provides another way of addressing Bsumek’s comedy lovers in Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 104 FORUM Virginia. They may resist melodrama because it appears to create devils out of potential partners and foreclose any possibility of saving face. However, what of the moral dimension of melodrama? What if devils could be placed into narratives of purification and redemption that not only allow them to relieve the burden of past sins, but also imply pathways for change? Constructing a rhetorical devil may indeed create adversaries rather than allies, but positioning that devil within fitting moral and political narratives could permit the devil to ‘‘save face’’ and could chart a path for social transformation. Based on his reading of the Exxon Valdez oil spill, Check remains rightly skeptical of scapegoating and the guilt-purification-redemption cycle as means for initiating large-scale social critique. Yet, he pinpoints precisely how scapegoating faltered in that situation: it was articulated to narratives that focused on the personal (problems of Hazelwood) and the technical (competence to clean up oil spills). The rhetorical failure was not with the devil per se, but with the mix of rhetorical appeals that situated the devil and other social actors within particular kinds of narratives. In addition to the internal dynamics of the frame, melodrama’s possibilities are influenced by competing rhetorical strategies in a particular situation. Indeed, even a competing melodrama*one that reifies and oversimplifies*could thwart more transformative versions of the form. Bill Kinsella, for example, argues that two melodramas ‘‘competed for interpretive authority’’ in constituting the environmental risks and the downwinder community connected to nuclear weapons production at Hanford. While the downwinders’ melodrama eventually reconfigured social relations, Kinsella asserts that the overarching Cold War melodrama had ‘‘enormous power’’ and ‘‘may have contributed to a less decisive outcome’’ than that in Libby. While the outcomes in Libby actually are far from decisive, Kinsella’s essay raises a much more significant*and timely*issue: whether a ‘‘master melodrama’’ of national security continues to animate democratic deliberation about a host of issues in the US (see the Summer 2007 issue of Rhetoric & Public Affairs, especially Simons, 2007). Environmental communication scholars might extend this line of argument to analyze how environmental melodramas interact with one another and with other rhetorical strategies. How do certain melodramas emerge as the ‘‘master?’’ When do they trump, and how are they vulnerable to more transformative rhetorics? Are master melodramas especially effective in undermining competing melodramatic framings, similar to the reactionary strategy of ‘‘aggressive mimicry’’ described by Jennifer Peeples in her analysis of the Wise Use Movement’s rhetoric (2005)? Conversely, can we identify instances beyond Hanford in which a transformative melodrama dislodged a reigning master melodrama? Perhaps the most fascinating constraints on environmental melodrama lie not strictly in the realm of the symbolic, but where the symbolic meets the materiality of ecological degradation. Environmental communication scholars are well positioned to engage the symbolic/material nexus, and as Terence Check and Tarla Rai Peterson acknowledge, the rhetoric surrounding global climate change offers rich opportunities for exploring this problematic. Peterson suggests that the material dimensions of climate change defy our ability to fully grasp the problem or craft effective Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 105 solutions; for her, the situation ‘‘cries out’’ for melodrama. Check, however, maintains that melodrama and the climate challenge are an uneasy fit: ‘‘(E)nvironmental advocates have struggled to frame climate change in melodramatic terms. This is because there is no clear villain, the causes of climate change are diverse and systemic, the consequences and threats are not immediate, it is not prone to a quick solution, and the offending acts are tied to economic progress, one of the many god terms of our age.’’ Of course, such obstacles are not unique to a melodramatic framing; as Dilling and Moser (2007) observe, these are significant challenges to any attempt to address climate change. ‘‘The inherent natural characteristics and deep societal roots of climate change stack the deck against the issue being recognized as an urgent and actionable problem’’ (p. 8). Nonetheless, Check’s assertion about the apparent disconnect between melodrama and climate change implies broader questions connected to the symbolic/material problematic. Are particular rhetorical modes more appropriate than others for addressing ecological challenges? Alternatively, to what extent do some rhetorical modes have affinities with certain kinds of ecological problems? Recent scholarship rooted in Kenneth Burke’s work suggests such symbolic/material affinities. For example, Seigel (2004) claims that, ‘‘The comic frame is, essentially, an ecological frame’’ (p. 394). She argues that ecological thought in the 1930s had a formative influence on Burke’s early work, showing how the concept of ecological balance grounds several arguments in Attitudes toward History and suggesting that Burke’s ‘‘comic corrective’’ flows directly from that concept. ‘‘Like ecology, the comic frame serves as a corrective to imbalances caused by particular efficiencies’’ (p. 399). From a different angle, Gregory Desilet (2006) contends that melodrama is inescapably bound up with the notion of pollution. For Desilet, melodrama partakes of moral traditions that conceptualize evil as pollution or ‘‘defilement of an original and autonomous whole’’ (p. 96). In this view, melodrama’s rhetorical action identifies pollution and removes it ‘‘through thorough sacrifice or destruction,’’ an ethical concern of Desilet’s that is echoed in Walker’s response (p. 111). While Desilet’s purpose is to illustrate melodrama’s contribution to violence in entertainment media, for present purposes his analysis hints at one reason why melodrama is so prevalent in rhetoric surrounding environmental pollution. The strengths and weaknesses of Seigel and Desilet’s arguments cannot be fully addressed here, but it would be worthwhile to sort through these apparent affinities between the comic and ecological frames on the one hand, and between melodrama and pollution on the other. For my own part, drawing too close a connection risks perpetuating many of the same problems and assumptions identified above and in my original essay: valorizing the comic frame apart from specific contexts, theorizing rhetorical effects as necessary rather than contingent, and ignoring the corrective possibilities of melodrama. The theoretical issue is not whether a particular rhetorical mode is an ‘‘accurate’’ fit with specific ecological conditions. Rather, it is how certain rhetorical choices articulate the material to the symbolic, constitute persuasive patterns of meaning for diverse audiences, and offer possibilities for action. Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 106 FORUM Asking those questions can help assess and invent practical strategies for addressing climate change that are attuned to both natural and cultural systems. The range of possibilities is broad. Peterson’s analysis, for example, leads her to identify the material reality of the situation not as climate change, but as a very specific configuration of nature/culture. ‘‘(T)he material reality is that a small group of humans continues to engineer a policy that is destroying the earth as a habitat for humanity and many other species.’’ From a different perspective, consider Ted Nordhaus and Michael Shellenberger’s contention that environmental leaders have mistakenly framed climate change as a ‘‘very big pollution problem’’ that they believe entails culturally unpopular solutions of sacrifice and limits on economic growth (Nordhaus & Schellenberger, 2007, p. 30). As advocates of all stripes work to craft nature/culture dynamics in compelling ways, environmental communication scholars certainly have resources that can inform their efforts. No matter how one might engage the issues raised in my original essay and this forum, I would encourage my colleagues to be mindful of the conclusion of Bsumek’s essay. His hymn to kairos, both as a critical concept and a performative one, should be sung more often. In addition to expanding our understanding of melodrama, we should also seek to ‘‘expand the frontiers of language’’ in addressing the ecological challenges that lie ahead. References Allport, G. (1948). ABC’s of scapegoating (rev. ed.). Anti-Defamation League of B’Nai B’rith Freedom Pamphlets. Alsford, M. (2006). Heroes and villains. London: Darton, Longman and Todd. Asen, R., & Brouwer, D. C. (Eds.). (2001). Counterpublics and the state. Albany, NY: SUNY Press. Barash, D. P., & Webel, C. P. (2002). Peace and conflict studies. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Beder, S. (1998). Global spin: The corporate assault on environmentalism. White River Junction, VT: Chelsea Green. Benoit, W. L. (1995). Accounts, excuses, and apologies: A theory of image restoration strategies. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press. Braaten, C. E. (2000). Powers in conflict: Christ and the devil. In C. E. Braaten & R. W. Jenson (Eds.), Sin, death, and the devil (pp. 94107). Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. Bohannon, J. (2007). IPCC report lays out options for taming greenhouse gases. Science, 316, 812 814. Bormann, E. G., Cragan, J. F., & Shields, D. C. (1996). An expansion of the rhetorical vision component of the symbolic convergence theory: The Cold War paradigm case. Communication Monographs, 63, 128. Burgess, H., & Burgess, G. (1996). Constructive confrontation: A transformative approach to intractable conflict. Mediation Quarterly, 13, 305322. Burgess, G., & Burgess, H. (2001, October). Student protests, negotiation, and constructive confrontation. Conflict Management in Higher Education Report, Vol 2, No. 1 from: http:// www.campus-adr.org/cmher/reportarticles/Edition2_1/Burgess2_1a.html. Burke, K. (1937, 1984). Attitudes toward history. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Burke, K. (1941/1973). The philosophy of literary form: Studies in symbolic action. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Burke, K. (1945, 1969). A grammar of motives. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 107 Burke, K. (1968). Dramatism. In D. L. Sills (Ed.), The International Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences, Vol. 7 (pp. 445452). New York: MacMillan Co. & The Free Press. Burke, K. (1969). A rhetoric of motives. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Carter, C. A. (1996). Kenneth Burke and the scapegoat process. Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Press. Carter, C. A. (1997). Kenneth Burke and the bicameral power of myth. Poetics Today, 18(3), 343 373. Check, T. (1993). The skipper as scapegoat: Alcohol and morality in the congressional rhetoric on the Exxon Valdez oil spill. Speaker and Gavel, 31, 2749. Check, T. (1997). Condemning a corporation: Exxon as scapegoat. In S. L. Senecah (Ed.), Proceedings of the fourth biennial conference on communication and environment (pp. 133 144). Syracuse: SUNY College of Environmental Science and Forestry. Cheney, G. (1983). The rhetoric of identification and the study of organizational communication. Quarterly Journal of Speech, 69, 143158. Cheney, G. (1991). Rhetoric in an organizational society: Managing multiple identities. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press. Cox, J. R. (1982). The die is cast: Topical and ontological dimensions of the locus of the irreparable. Quarterly Journal of Speech, 68, 227239. Cox, R. (2007). Nature’s ‘‘Crisis disciplines’’: Does environmental communication have an ethical duty? Environmental Communication: A Journal of Nature and Culture, 1(1), 519. Cronen, V. (2001). Practical theory, practical art, and the pragmatic-systemic account of inquiry. Communication Theory, 11(1), 1435. Davidson, A. (1990). In the wake of the Exxon Valdez: The devastating impact of the Alaskan oil spill. San Francisco, CA: Sierra Club Books. Daniels, S. E., & Walker, G. B. (2001). Working through environmental conflict: The collaborative learning approach. Westport, CT: Praeger. Desilet, G. (2006). Our faith in evil: Melodrama and the effects of entertainment violence. Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company. DeLuca, K. M. (1999). Image politics: The new rhetoric of environmental activism. New York: Guilford Press. Dilling, L., & Moser, S. C. (2007). Introduction. In S. C. Moser & L. Dilling (Eds.), Creating a climate for change: Communicating climate change and facilitating social change. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Fisher, W. R. (1987). Human communication as narration: Toward a philosophy of reason, value, and action. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press. Florescu, R. R. (1975). The devil in Romanian literature and folklore. In A. M. Olson (Ed.), Disguises of the demonic: Contemporary perspectives on the power of evil (pp. 6986). New York: Association Press. Folger, J. P., Poole, M. S., & Stutman, R. K. (2005). Working through conflict (5th ed.). Boston, MA: Pearson. Ganesh, S., Zoller, H., & Cheney, G. (2005). Transforming resistance, broadening our boundaries: Critical organizational communication meets globalization from below. Communication Monographs, 72(2), 169191. Greenwashing. (2006, February 23). SourceWatch. Retrieved May 15, 2007, from http://www.sour cewatch.org. Greimas, A. J. (1987). On meaning: Selected writings in semiotic theory. London: Francis Pinter. Holland, L. V. (1959). Counterpoint: Kenneth Burke and Aristotle’s theories of rhetoric. New York: Philosophical Library. Huntingford, C., & Lowe, J. (2007). ‘‘Overshoot’’ scenarios and climate change. Science, 316, 829 830. Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 108 FORUM Idso, C. D., & Idso, K. E. (1998). Carbon dioxide and global warming: Where we stand on the issue. Center for the Study of Carbon Dioxide & Global Change, from http://www.co2science.org/ scripts/CO2ScienceB2C/about/position/globalwarming.jsp. Ingram, D. (2000). Green screen: Environmentalism and Hollywood cinema. Exeter: University of Exeter Press. Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) (2007). Fourth assessment report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, from http://www.ipcc.ch/. Johnson, D. W., Johnson, R. T., & Tjosvold, D. (2000). Constructive controversy: The value of intellectual opposition. In M. Deutsch & P. T. Coleman (Eds.), The handbook of conflict resolution: Theory and practice (pp. 6585). San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass. Keeble, J. (1999). Out of the channel: The Exxon Valdez oil spill in Prince William Sound. Cheney, WA: Eastern Washington University Press. Kellner, D. (1990). Television and the crisis of democracy. Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Kerr, R. A. (2007). Pushing the scary side of climate change. Science, 316, 14121415. Kinsella, W. J. (2001). Nuclear boundaries: Material and discursive containment at the Hanford nuclear reservation. Science as Culture, 10, 163194. Kinsella, W. J., & Mullen, J. (2007). Becoming Hanford downwinders: Producing community and challenging discursive containment. In B. C. Taylor, W. J. Kinsella, S. P. Depoe, & M. S. Metzler (Eds.), Nuclear legacies: Communication, controversy, and the U.S. nuclear weapons complex (pp. 73107). Lanham, MD: Lexington Books. Kohak, E. V. (1975). Speaking of the devil: A modest methodological proposal. In A. M. Olson (Ed.), Disguises of the demonic: Contemporary perspectives on the power of evil (pp. 4856). New York: Association Press. Kreisberg, L. (2003). Constructive conflicts: From escalation to resolution (2nd ed.). Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield. Matthews, M. (2000, 13 March). Libby’s dark secret. High Country News, from http://www.hcn.org/ servlets/hcn.Article?article_id 5619. May, J. R. (1975). American literary variations on the demonic. In A. M. Olson (Ed.), Disguises of the demonic: Contemporary perspectives on the power of evil (pp. 3147). New York: Association Press. Melia, T. (1989). Drugs and rhetorical devils. Journal of Clinical Pharmacy and Therapeutics, 14, 415418. Nadel, A. (1995). Containment culture: American narratives, postmodernism, and the atomic age. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Nordhaus, T., & Shellenberger, M. (2007, September 24). Second life: A manifesto for a new environmentalism. The New Republic, 237(6), 3033. Olson, K. M., & Goodnight, G. T. (1994). Entanglements of consumption, cruelty, privacy, and fashion: The social controversy over fur. Quarterly Journal of Speech, 80, 249276. Pearce, W. B., & Littlejohn, S. W. (1997). Moral conflict: When social worlds collide. Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Peeples, J. A. (2005). Aggressive mimicry: The rhetoric of wise use and the environmental movement. In S. L. Senecah (Ed.), The Environmental Communication Yearbook, Vol. 2 (pp. 117). Mahwah, NJ: Erlbaum. Pezzullo, P. C. (2001). Performing critical interruptions: Stories, rhetorical invention, and the environmental justice movement. Western Journal of Communication, 65(1), 125. Poulakos, J. (1995). Sophistical rhetoric in classical Greece. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press. Prince, R. (2007). Britain would boom in climate change chaos. Daily Mirror, from http:// www.mirror.co.uk/news/topstories/2007/04/07/britain-would-boom-in-climate-changechaos-89520-18871341/. Russell, J. B. (1986). Mephistopheles: The devil in the modern world. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Downloaded By: [Texas A&M University] At: 18:56 12 September 2010 Narratives, Rhetorical Genres, and Environmental Conflict 109 Sanction, T. A. (1989, December 18). The fight to save the planet. Time, 6061. Schwarze, S. (2003). Juxtaposition in environmental health rhetoric: Exposing asbestos contamination in Libby, Montana. Rhetoric & Public Affairs, 6(2), 313336. Schwarze, S. (2005). Ways of knowing asbestos: The story of Libby, Montana. In G. B. Walker & W. J. Kinsella (Eds.), Finding our way(s) in environmental communication: Proceedings of the Seventh Biennial Conference on Communication and the Environment (pp. 383388). Corvallis, OR: Department of Speech Communication, Oregon State University. Schwarze, S. (2006). Environmental melodrama. Quarterly Journal of Speech, 92(3), 239261. Seigel, M. A. (2004). ‘‘One little fellow named ecology’’: Ecological rhetoric in Kenneth Burke’s Attitudes toward history. Rhetoric Review, 23(4), 388404. Senecah, S. L. (2004). The trinity of voice: The role of practical theory in planning and evaluating the effectiveness of environmental participatory processes. In S. P. Depoe, J. W. Delicath, & M-F. Aepli Elsenbeer (Eds.), Communication and public participation in environmental decision making (pp. 1334). Albany, NY: SUNY Press. Sierra Club (1999). Grassroots organizing training manual. San Francisco, CA: Sierra Club. Simons, H. W. (2007). From post-9/11 melodrama to quagmire in Iraq: A rhetorical history. Rhetoric and Public Affairs, 10(2), 183194. Speth, J. G. (2005). Red sky at morning: America and the crisis of the global environment. New Haven, CA: Yale University Press. Stauber, J., & Rampton, S. (1995). Toxic sludge is good for you! Lies, damn lies and the public relations industry. Monroe, ME: Common Courage. Torgerson, D. (1999). The promise of green politics: Environmentalism and the public sphere. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Tyler, L. (1992). Ecological disaster and rhetorical response: Exxon’s communications in the wake of the Valdez spill. Journal of Business and Technical Communication, 6, 14971. Virginia Natural Resources Leadership Institute. (2007). VNRLI: Resolving conflict through leadership (participant handbook). Charlottesville, VA: VRNLI. Walker, G. B., Daniels, S. E., & Cheng, A. (2006). Facilitating dialogue and deliberation in environmental conflict: The use of groups in collaborative learning. In L. Frey (Ed.), Facilitating group communication in context: Innovations and applications with natural groups, Vol. 1 (pp. 205238). Cresskill, NJ: Hampton Press. Weaver, R. M. (1953, 1985). The ethics of rhetoric. Davis, CA: Hermagoras Press. Williams, D. E., & Treadaway, G. (1992). Exxon and the Valdez accident: A failure in crisis communication. Communication Studies, 43, 5664. Wilmot, W. W., & Hocker, J. L. (2001). Interpersonal conflict (6th ed.). New York: McGraw-Hill.