“How is he entitled to say this?”: Constructing the identities of experts, ordinary people, and presenters in Swedish television series on climate change

Our study is based on the analysis of three episodes each of two television series, Briljanta forskare [Brilliant Scientists] (BF) and Koll på klimatet [Checking on the Climate] (KPK). Both series are mainly in Swedish (quotes used here were translated into English by the first author), although a few scientists in BF speak English, accompanied by Swedish subtitles.

The popular-scientific series BF was aired in 2019 by the Swedish Educational Broadcasting Company [Sveriges Utbildningsradio] (UR), in a production overseen by SVT, the Swedish national public television broadcaster. The series features popular descriptions of ongoing research in natural science and, according to its official description (UR, n.d.), chiefly targets young adults in the final years of elementary school. The total of ten episodes was released and made available to the public on the UR webpage (urplay.se) for four subsequent years after the release. A purposeful selection of three episodes that discussed climate-related issues was made for this study (as opposed, for instance, to BF’s episodes on antibiotics or space debris). Each of these episodes lasted for 9 minutes and primarily consisted of interventions made by scientists who were involved in the research projects covered by the programme. The episode entitled “Fusionskraft” [“Fusion Power”] (BF-E1) presents research of alternatives to fossil fuels as a source of energy, with the focus on the international megaproject ITER, which seeks to replicate the fusion processes on the Sun to generate energy on Earth. The episode “CO₂-dammsugaren” [“CO₂ Vacuum Cleaner”] (BF-E2) adresses the threats related to the excessive production of carbon dioxide and presents an ongoing scientific project in Iceland, which aims to capture CO₂ directly from the atmosphere and convert it into harmless minerals. Lastly, the episode “Plastcirkeln” [“Plastic Circle”] (BF-E3) problematises the overconsumption of plastic and talks about Swedish researchers working on creating a 3D printer capable of producing sustainable plastic. The three episodes were transcribed and complemented with a 40-minute interview (recorded in English) with an anonymised senior member of the BF production team (Producer 1), who was informed about the purpose of the conversation and agreed to be recorded and cited.

KPK was produced and distributed by SVT in 2019. At the time of data collection, the episodes were no longer accessible on the SVT website (svtplay.se), but three of them were shared with us by a member of the production team after receiving a briefing from our side. Each episode is 7–9 minutes long, and in each, the presenter Babiker Malik discusses climate and sustainability issues with individuals in Sweden who hold “completely different attitudes to climate change”, according to the series’ official description (SVT, n.d.). The three analysed episodes take us to Gothenburg (KPK-E1), Stockholm (KPK-E2), and Malmö (KPK-E3), where Malik meets climate activists, children in a kindergarten, a social media influencer, and a few anonymous individuals who talk about the environment. He also actively engages with their comments, sharing his personal opinion with the programme’s viewers.

As previously mentioned, our selection relied on theoretical sampling, as we were interested in the construction of particular subject positions in the two television series in general, and how they connected to persuasionism in particular. This resulted in a selection of the (theoretically and thematically) most relevant episodes. We then applied a discourse-theoretical analysis (DTA) (Carpentier & De Cleen, 2007; Van Brussel et al., 2019). DTA uses DT as theoretical foundation, but combines it with an abductive research strategy, which is based on an iterative procedure of theory selection, data collection, and analysis, and a subsequent theory refinement with the help of the gathered data (Reichertz, 2019). Thus, the researcher remains focused on a particular theoretical problem while allowing the data to unveil new narratives about the social reality at hand.

In our case, the abductive strategy consisted of the following steps. First, upon the completion of the transcription process, the theoretical categories stemming from discourse theory were established (subject positions, discourse, and articulation) and their specific properties in relation to the case study were tentatively defined. We were primarily interested in the positions of experts versus ordinary people, and the place of the presenter in that relationship. Second, the academic literature in relation to the respective subject positions was reviewed to identify possible articulations. Third, a qualitative content analysis was performed on the data, consisting of iterative cycles of breaking down the material into categories and codes that answered our research question: How are subject positions constructed in the television series and how is this construction structured by, and conducive of, persuasionism? Here, we were interested in elements that constructed their subject positions, such as the statements the participants and presenter made, their vocabularies, the ways they were labelled, addressed, and interacted, and the material setting in which the scene was recorded. Fourth, completing the abductive circles, we reviewed the properties of the previously chosen theoretical categories, adding the missing elements which emerged from the data (more specifically, including the subject position of the media professional). The analytical output was then divided in three parts, each corresponding to one of the key subject positions from our analysis.

The construction of the subject position of the expert is primarily evident in BF, where scientists take centre stage. Here, the expert possesses a series of distinctive characteristics that puts them in a differential position in relation to other subject positions (e.g., that of media professional), as Producer 1 made explicit in their interview: “This is not a person that has an opinion. This is a researcher and there is something behind his thoughts and his knowledge, and this is not a journalist having this opinion. That was very important”.

The experts are primarily articulated as knowledge producers who are authorised and legitimated to persuade the viewers through rational argumentation. The way the experts communicate their knowledgeability and perform persuasionism has a logic that largely overlaps with Entman’s (1993) well-known framework of journalistic framing: providing a problem definition, suggesting their own evaluation, presenting solutions, and adding a moral assessment about what course of action is considered proper.

These moral judgements demonstrate that also experts are part of hegemonic processes (which is not necessarily problematic), and that absolute neutrality cannot be achieved.

Once the problem is defined, the experts are invited to provide their evaluation, which they sometimes do in categorical terms: “A bag used for a quarter of an hour will probably last for 100 years. This is very unreasonable” (Bethanie C. Almroth, BF-E3); “Dumping all that carbon dioxide into the atmosphere is simply not sustainable” (Frances H. Arnold, BF-E1). In addition to problem definition and evaluation, the experts are articulated as people in position for providing a moral judgment: “It’s really important as human beings, as people living on this planet, that we have to respect it”; “The way we dispose of the plastic is very irresponsible”; “If you see someone throwing garbage out, give them the murder look” (Melanie Despeisse, BF-E3). Finally, the expert subject position is unpacked in terms of providing remedies. At times, this is made in a solutionist logic, for example, as the geologist Sandra Ósk Snæbjörnsdóttir (BF-E2) says: “The most important thing to keep in mind is that we have the solutions. We just have to use them to solve the climate crisis”. As individuals with tools to solve the most challenging and complicated problems, the experts are close to being represented as magicians: “I think this technology is getting quite powerful, like magic” (Melanie Despeisse, BF-E3).

Subjectified as individuals equipped with extraordinary problem-solving capacities, and without structural discrepancies in the knowledge they (collectively) communicate, the experts are delegated the authority to provide recommendations for ordinary people, as they directly address the audience and actively encourage them to change their behaviour, in the following terms:

Our planet is being overrun by our waste products and we definitely need to invent new ways of behaving.

In particular (and certainly influenced by the target audience of the series), young adults are allocated agency to implement these changes, without moving outside the power dynamics of the programme, where the experts still set the stage through their recommendations. On one occasion, a scientist looks directly in the camera, addressing the imaginary audience: “I think the true heroes are the new generation. It’s you who will come up with new ideas, and test and question the way people have done things” (Robin Teigland, BF-E3). This sentiment was echoed in another episode as well: “For the young people, the world will be the world that you create. And you have to be involved in its creation” (Frances H. Arnold, BF-E2).

Moreover, the expert subject position is constructed through a number of other characteristics that also strengthen their persuasionist capacities. First, credibility was deemed crucial. This was emphasised by Producer 1: “[The audience members] want to know who this expert is, why he is talking in this programme and how he is entitled to say this and to have credibility in this topic”. In order to accentuate the reliability of the interviewed scientists, the series puts an emphasis on their presentation. All of them are called by their full names, and their affiliation – either to universities or industrial research projects – is clearly indicated. Although only a handful of the respondents in the analysed episodes are said to be working in academia, their academic titles – doctor or professor – are also provided (in the three episodes, there is only one interviewee without a formal academic title). As Producer 1 explained in our research interview, “If you are a doctor or professor, it kind of gives credibility and a level to the programme, to take it seriously”.

The experts are also constructed as such through the language they use, and more specifically through the comprehensibility and eloquence of their interventions (as we will show, especially the appearance of the experts in BF as eloquent is the result of a careful curation – indeed, construction – of such an image by the production team). On the one hand, the targeting of the programme towards a younger audience – considered less knowledgeable – encouraged a higher degree of comprehensibility of its content, and the explanations by the scientists. The latter also appear articulate and well-spoken, which Producer 1 said was an important part of the filming process: “They have to start and end a sentence well. They can’t just say: ‘Yes, that’s it’. They can’t answer yes or no, they have to start in a clear way so we can cut it well”. On the other hand, the expertise is still performed through the use of specialised jargon and concepts such as “carbon dioxide”, “circular economy”, or “gastrointestinal tract”. The series does not discourage the use of the professional vocabulary, but rather clarifies it for the viewers.

The subject position of the expert is furthermore articulated through the qualities of humbleness and generosity – in other words, the ability to engage in a societal discussion and education on equal terms with the public.

It demands a lot of me but it also demands a lot of them to be open and to not be too, how do you say, protective of what they know […] The purpose has to be here and to not have a big ego about it. And I am happy we could find these people that… you know, even the Nobel prize winners put their ego aside to answer these questions to make this programme as good as possible.

Lastly, the subjectification of the experts is strengthened by the visual aesthetics, which allows for the most immediate performance of the subject position. The scientists appear to be interviewed in formal settings such as offices, and some wear suits or dresses. Furthermore, their interviews are intermeshed with video fragments where the interviewees and their colleagues can often be seen working in laboratories or construction sites, wearing professional protective equipment (see Figure 1).

Figure 1

As discussed earlier, the expert subject position – as can be found in BF – is based on a differential, even antagonistic, relationship towards other subject positions, particularly individuals discursified as unknowledgeable and influenceable. This system of distinctions can be illustrated through the analysis of a different programme that focuses on ordinary people. A example of this type of programme in Sweden is KPK, where ordinary people are constructed as a passive object of a necessary change, some of whom need to be persuaded to change their behaviour.

The “ordinariness” of the KPK participants is underscored by the use of only first names, when names are even mentioned. Of the 14 individuals interviewed in the three episodes (including four children), only three have their names mentioned and the others remain anonymous, presented to us as part of an aggregated mass outside of social institutions. In the three cases where first names are used, two individuals feature more prominently than others: the activist Karolina, due to her active, radical social stance, and the social media influencer Jennie, because of her consumerist lifestyle. While these may not be counted as ordinary people unreservedly, and their respective identities may require further elaboration (which exceeds the scope of this article), we nonetheless argue for their inclusion into the properties of this subject position – perhaps as the “extraordinary ordinary” – because they share many characteristics with other KPK participants in this category.

The positions of the ordinary people in KPK are presented to us, in the programme, in a form of cacophony, which further articulates their interventions as opinions and not knowledge. While the scientists in BF appear united in their diagnosis of the larger issue at hand and only occasionally disagree on the specific methods of tackling it, KPK suggests the existence of a broad variety of opinions among nonexperts. Some of them are acknowledged for taking the matter seriously (and become examples for others), while others virtually deny the need for climate action altogether (and symbolise those that still need to be persuaded). Taken together, these perspectives form a set of what can be called axes of ordinariness (see Figure 2), which vary from responsible to irresponsible, from lavish to ascetic, from radical to moderate and from aware to ignorant. While some options are explicitly named, others are implied. To illustrate, KPK-E1 features Extinction Rebellion activists who willingly break the law for their radical street performance; in KPK-E3, we are reminded of dumpster diving for food. These solutions are presented to the viewers as extreme, even though they provide testimony of the importance and acceptance of the discourse of climate-change-as-problem. This tension is resolved by showing that more moderate alternatives are at hand: “This is not really allowed [in Sweden], but people do it anyway […] But if you don’t want to break the law and, like, find food elsewhere, are there any alternatives then?” (KPKE3). The series then goes on to introduce a couple that collects hazelnuts in a forest, trying to “think environmentally” and “live sustainably” (KPK-E3).

Figure 2

While the palette of characteristics of ordinary people is rich, KPK demonstrates persuasionist strategies by making moral judgments and by discrediting particular voices that do not align with the discourse of climate-change-as-problem. This contributes to the construction of ordinary people as objects of persuasion and change, deemed necessary in the name of sustainability. In KPK, this is very much in line with the name-and-shame pattern of media coverage discussed earlier. In particular, the blogger named Jennie and her lavish, consumerist lifestyle is presented as the undesirable model. Here, the audience is taken on a walk around one of Stockholm’s most expensive quays, Strandvägen, where the host tells Jennie that consumption is “really, really a problem” and asks about her spending habits; she admits to owning a Chanel bag worth over SEK 40,000 (EUR 3,800). The flight-shaming pattern is also present in their interaction, where Jennie is pressed to explain her travel choices (KPK-E2): Presenter: From what I can see on Jennie’s Insta[gram profile], she travels a lot. And no matter how much you twist and turn it, air travel is actually a real environmental culprit.

The “staycation” theme remains present in other interactions of the host with the programme’s participants: Not only Jennie, but also others are encouraged to change their travel habits and visit domestic destinations instead of going abroad.

The subject position of ordinary people is also supported by a series of aesthetic features that construct it as different from experts and the production of knowledge. Also here, the stylistic contrasts with the representation of experts in BF is quite remarkable. While BF is filmed in formal settings, showing us scientists at work, KPK participants mostly appear in more private contexts, such as an ambush interview at an apartment’s front door, or a walk with the host. Unlike the experts who frequently use professional jargon, the KPK series resorts to a conversational style. Furthermore, compared with the articulate scientists who masterfully use English and Swedish – even though they are often foreign languages for them – the ordinary participants in KPK are most often visibly not trained in speaking in front of a camera. At times, they appear mumbling and inconsistent, articulating their interventions as fragmented opinions, not grounded in knowledge. We find an example, again, in Jennie’s answer to a question about her views on climate change, whose approximate translation into English follows below (KPK-E2):

No, but then I’m thinking like this, that yes, but it’s gonna get better ‘cos the sun has its spots, I often think. Now we are maybe in the warmer part, you know. And I don’t know. It’s like this, we used to think that the Earth was flat, and now, like… And I know that scientists… I know 100% that it’s really bad with the environment, but I always think that everything will be fine.

The third subject position is that of the media professional, in particular the presenter. This subject position is especially visible in KPK, which, as has been previously mentioned, has a host who actively interacts with both the programme participants and the television audience. However, this subject position is also present in BF – both as a voiceover and an invisible part of the production process, whose importance was brought up by a senior production team member at our research interview. We analyse the construction of the presenter’s subject position with the theoretical notion of media professional in mind, which helps us to better understand the enactments of their identity in the television series.

The articulations and performances of the presenter in KPK have a number of important links to ordinary people, establishing the logic of relatability. The host uses an informal tone, reacting to the participants’ answers in a lighthearted way, with remarks such as “Vad nice” [“How nice”] or “Kul!” [“Fun!”]. The interjection “typ” [“like”] is not only part of spontaneous interactions of the presenter with the programme participants (e.g., in KPK-E3, he asks, “What would you say is, like, most vital for you?”), but is also used on the voiceover, appearing as a conscious effort to connect with the (younger) audience. The approachability of the presenter is further strengthened by his playful – and, at times, openly ironic – approach to the subjects at hand, such as when he suggests that the viewers visit the Swedish town of Jönköping, 130 kilometres east of Gothenburg, instead of going to Jerusalem (KPK-E2).

Furthermore, the presenter expresses sympathy for the other “ordinary people”, such as a driver whose car is blocked by Extinction Rebellion activists in KPK-E1 (“I would have been so angry if I were the guy who’s sitting next to me in the car right now”). He also demonstrates his relatability in KPK-E3 by admitting his modest apartment size, which he says amounts to 35 square metres. His humility also comes forward through the careful selection of words for expressing his opinion (KPK-E1): “My feeling, however, is that many [activists] maybe would have wanted more chaos and maybe some detentions by police. Oh well, what do I know, it’s just my own thoughts [emphasis added]”.

The iterative association with ordinary people in KPK is combined with his (rather didactic) articulation as a “critical change agent” (Hanitzsch, 2011) and the use of persuasionist strategies. Through the use of irony, the presenter continuously responds through – and thus privileges – a discourse on sustainable living, making the grotesque appear entertaining and, after all, possible. Consider, for instance, this fragment where the host reacts to a participant’s wish to go to Spain for vacation, appearing on the screen with a backdrop of a beach: “Oh, the sun. Mmm, pensioners. Mallis.

An informal Swedish name for Mallorca – here, used mainly in an ironic way.

In BF, revealing the inner workings of the filming, Producer 1 emphasised the efforts undertaken to prepare for each interview with the scientists: “For every one of these interviews I had to be very well-researched to pose good questions and questions that they would respect”. This enactment of the media professional subject position also imposed certain limitations on the power of the expert subject position, forcing it to adjust to the media professional norms – for instance, with regard to the targeted audience and time limits: “You have to direct [the scientists] and you have to explain that ‘OK, could you please rephrase that sentence because we have to make people understand and we only have this amount of time?’” (Producer 1).

The articulation of the media professional in BF and KPK as powerful and knowledgeable was particularly visible in the occasional enactments of gatekeeping, as a practice of control over access and storyline. One important element is that voices unsupportive of the discourse of climate-change-as-problem were not included in the expert position. Gatekeeping also impacts on the presence of legitimate experts – or those considered as such: Producer 1 of BF recalled the struggle to make scientists who were “lacking in energy” adjust to the standards of a television show. Not everyone made it onto the screen, and the final decision rested with the media professionals: “There are some people you see not so many times [on the screen], but we have a lot more [footage], but it didn’t qualify. So, you have to be very picky with what you include. And only take the best” (Producer 1). Interestingly, in one instance, the articulation of the presenter as a gatekeeper was rendered particularly explicit: When four children participants said “Welcome” to the KPK host as he entered the kindergarten, he quickly reclaimed power: “But this is my programme, why are you saying ‘welcome’?” The practices of gatekeeping in the programmes do not only construct the presenter as a separate subject position but remind us of their power in shaping the narrative of the entire series.