I was talking to a fellow the other day about politics over lunch at a place in New Jersey called Smashburger. Great burgers; big, juicy and tasty. The conversation was genial, but determined in a good-natured way. At one point when I was explaining why I thought the way I did, he stopped me.
"That's all very logical," he said, "but that's not the way people really think."
"Oh really?" I said. "How can you say that? People have to look at where they are in their lives and do some kind of assessing and figure out what's good for them, politically."
'Not really," he said between bites. "People are tribal in nature. We were all hunter-gatherers on the plains and in the forests at one point. We still belong to tribes; we just call them by different names. You know, like Christian, or policeman, or doctor, or Democrat or Republican."
"Democrat*ic*," I said.
"Just different names for different tribes, really," he continued, ignoring me. "A lot about the way our society functions still revolves around organizing ourselves into tribes. And whether we belong to one tribe or another is not always logical. Most of the time, it's a reflection of the kind of people we grew up with, who our friends were when we were kids, that kind of thing. We like to repeat the past and follow our original examples, our 'tribal leaders'."
"That might be true when we're kids,' I countered, "but adults should be able to look at things pragmatically and figure out what's best for them. I mean, if a Republican is going to cut Joe Smith's Medicare and Social Security, and run up a ton of debt in the process, why should Smith vote for him?"
"Well, to take your hypothetical and run with it, Smith would vote for the Republican because he identifies with the Republican in some way. He believes the Republican is part of his tribe, or vice versa. People make decisions about who to support for a whole host of reasons that don't make sense logically, but make sense if you look at politics tribally. And looking at politics tribally means looking at it on an emotional level."
I chewed on that for a moment while chewing on my burger.
"I mean, look at us," he continued. "You're always talking about eating healthy, but look at that 1/2 pound greasy burger you're downing. Why didn't you get a salad?"
"Well, you suggested this place, and it actually sounded good, so . . ."
"OK," he said, "two things. One, you went with my suggestion because we're friends. That's the tribal influence. Two, you knew a salad might be better for you, logically, but you wanted that burger. Both of those were emotional decisions, not logical ones."
"Well that makes sense," I said cocking an eyebrow.
"Politics is the same way," he continued. "You have to connect with people on an emotional level to get a point across."
"OK," I said, washing down the last bite of burger with a handful of sweet potato fries, "so what's a good way to reach someone emotionally?"
"Well," he said, finishing his burger off, "I've always sound that making up a good story or image is a good way to get someone to start seeing things your way." He thought for a moment, then continued. "For instance, you progressives are always talking about how markets have to be regulated. Well, Republicans have a pretty good frame; not regulating markets allows the markets to be free to create jobs, yadda yadda."
"Yep, heard that plenty often," I said. "A crock, but popular."
"Well, the merits aside, what's progressives' argument for regulating?"
"It's a good thing so companies can't screw people over."
"Yeah, well, that might be the truth, and it might be logical, but people won't connect with that because for the most part, they don't see corporations, or the market, screwing them over. Not really, anyway. But give them a picture, a story, that they can connect to emotionally, that makes sense emotionally, and they'll begin to see things your way.
"Like how?"
"Well, how about this," he said, slugging down his Coke. ""The markets are like a guard dog. A well-regulated guard dog stays where he's supposed to, protects, obeys commands, and is a benefit to his owner. An unregulated guard dog, however, strays and attacks people that aren't a threat. What do you call a guard dog that attacks people who aren't a threat?"
"A menace," I replied.
"Yep," he said. "And what do you call someone who owns an unregulated guard dog?"
"A menace," I said, nodding.
"Exactly," he said. "Now it becomes easier to think of someone who believes in an unregulated free market as a menace. And easier to think that unregulated free markets themselves are a menace. And it works because everyone's run across a dog that seemed a bit dangerous, or their friends have." I nodded in agreement.
"Here's another approach," he said. "The free markets are like gasoline. Put a spark to gasoline in the engine of a Lamborghini, a very strictly regulated environment, and you go fast, look sharp, and the ladies love you. Put a spark to gasoline in a can, however, and it blows up in a big fireball. And you get burned. And people think of you as a terrorist."
I grinned. "Pretty stark difference. I think I'll take the Lamborghini."
He grinned back. "Most people would."
We got up and headed back to work.
******
As a final note, the above conversation is entirely fictional. I drafted it to make a point about how to communicate political positions. If it got that point across on an emotional level (like most stories do), then it's done its job.
Peace.