Persuasion through people: The rhetorical categories of documentary subjects in Michael Moore’s films

Simons (as cited in O’Keefe, 2002) defined persuasion as human communication designed to influence others by modifying their beliefs, values, or attitudes. How, therefore, does persuasion differ from argumentation? Argumentation is often linked to rational justification, whereas persuasion is considered to be based on non-rational justification. “At the end of reasons comes persuasion”, wrote Wittgenstein (1969: 81e), with Smith (2007: 117) later highlighting the enthymematic nature of persuasion: “in persuasion the argument is truncated”. Hatfield and colleagues (2007) described the difference between persuasive manipulation and argument, with the former appealing to unconscious emotions without the possibility of choosing based on rational analysis, whereas argumentation is propositional. Groarke (1996) understood arguments as attempts to convince rationally, whereas persuasion was the opposite; however, the meaning of opposite was left unexplained. Conversely, Blair (1996) acknowledged argument as a species of persuasion. From these distinctions between argumentation and persuasion, the following conclusions can be summarised: 1) Argumentation is a rational process, whereas persuasion is also non-rational, namely appealing to emotions, and so on; 2) Argumentation is explicit, with grounds, claims, and reasons being expressed explicitly, however, persuasion is more enthymematic in nature; 3) Argumentation and persuasion are not necessarily ontologically exclusive categories.

Smith (2007) associated persuasion with identification and maintained that a persuasive speaker must speak in a manner that audience members can identify with. Wanless and Berk (2020) also emphasised identification by stating that people are more likely to believe those whom they find familiar to themselves. Taylor (1979: 70), however, argued that an effective propagandist must create an adversary – not simply focus on identification – and construct tension between “opposing forces of ‘good’ and ‘evil’, or ‘us’ and ‘them’”; the intent is for the audience to identify with the propagandist’s side and stand against those forces cast as the opposite.

Perelman (1996), a prominent scholar of the New Rhetoric school, on the other hand posited a strong relationship between presence and persuasion. For him, the goal of rhetoric is to create a feeling of presence. Jokinen and colleagues (2012) claimed that first-hand experience of an event creates a right to report, and the credibility of this reporting grows with proximity to the issue being reported. Furthermore, Nichols (2001: 54) argued that physical presence functions rhetorically as metonymy, forming associations for the audience between physically parallel phenomena; thus, reporters standing on the scene of an event will get the true story because they are physically close to it.

Studies have shown that emotional appeals exert a persuasive effect (Baines & Jones, 2020; O’Keefe, 2002; Seo, 2020). As Haidt (2003) pointed out, emotions motivate action and are therefore useful in action-oriented persuasion. Furthermore, human representations are effective at getting viewers emotionally invested (Hietala, 1991) and influencing their attitudes (Seo, 2020).

Moral emotions influence moral decisions and or moral behaviour and highlight the affective quality of morality instead of moral reasoning (Haidt, 2003; Price Tangney et al., 2007). Haidt (2003) divided principal moral emotions into two large and two small joint families. The large families comprised the other-condemning category (including contempt, anger, and disgust) and the self-conscious category (including shame, embarrassment, and guilt). The two smaller families were the other-suffering (compassion) and other-praising (gratitude and elevation) categories.

Other-focused emotions can be engendered to outside observers and can even travel from screen to spectator (Haidt, 2003). Moreover, anger – a result of perceived injustice – can be triggered on behalf of others (Haidt, 2003). Price Tangney and colleagues (2007) saw righteous anger, which arises when the perpetrator’s behaviour represents a violation of moral standards, as an especially useful moral emotion.

Contempt is another moral emotion well suited to tarnishing somebody’s ethos or credibility. According to Haidt (2003), contempt falls between anger and disgust, which can be generated by hypocrisy, betrayal, cruelty, and fawning. Contempt involves looking down on someone and feeling morally superior. Furthermore, in more egalitarian societies, contempt is elicited by the perception that a person does not measure up to their position or prestige (Haidt, 2003). Contempt approximates Aristotle’s definition of indignation, which he described as the pain caused by the sight of undeserved good fortune. Constructing an ethos of hypocrisy, injustice, or moral inferiority is suited to eliciting other-condemning moral emotions, which are useful for creating antagonistic subjects. Other-praising emotions can also influence third-party observers by inspiring them to become better people and, in the case of elevation, follow a moral exemplar. Haidt’s (2003) notion of elevation is elicited by acts of moral beauty, such as charity, kindness, loyalty, and self-sacrifice. Elevation seems an especially suited moral emotion for what Gaines (1999) called political mimesis. According to Gaines, documentary spectators align themselves emotionally with the struggle they see onscreen through what she called “pathos of facts”. Conversely, Terrill (2008: 137) called for political mimesis that extends beyond the screen, inspiring spectators to “engage in inventive acts of their own”.

Finally, compassion resembles Aristotle’s definition of pity, which he believed results from unjust suffering. Compassion, according to Haidt (2003), is elicited by the perception of suffering or sorrow in another person, and it can be felt for total strangers. Price Tangney and colleagues (2007) further argued that compassion often prompts behaviour aimed at helping the distressed other.

Although persuasion, like propaganda, is often defined by its emotive content (Baines et al., 2020; Groarke, 1996; Hatfield et al., 2007; Simpson, 2008), appearances of rationality and factuality can form an effective base for persuasion. Livingstone and Lunt (1994) argued that objectivity and neutrality, which are the core values of journalism, can be applied to advocacy. Furthermore, Renov (1993) saw documentary truth claims as the baseline of documentary persuasion. Ellul (1973) employed the term “rational propaganda” for communications that, while appearing to be rationality-based, are actually biased or skewed in some way. Even if the facts themselves are “correct”, rational propaganda places them in a misleading context. Baines and colleagues (2020: xxvi) posited that “propaganda operates by creating simulacra of rationality” via the selective use of data or seemingly factual claims, with these facts then being subordinated to narrative purposes. Similarly, disinformation, according to O’Shaughnessy (2020: 60), uses pseudo-rational arguments that are “polished with the veneer of objectivity”. Moreover, Blair (2004: 57) noted that visual ads that appear rational accomplish their influence “behind the façade of rationality”. The façade of rationalism is further illustrated with Haidt’s (2003) social intuitionist model of moral judgements, which places emotions in control of moral judgements and moral reasoning as post hoc justification for moral decisions.

Much of the narration and argumentation in a documentary are transmitted through onscreen personalities. This is evident in Moore’s work, wherein various real-life individuals are included and made into rhetorical vehicles. According to Plantinga (1997), for a filmmaker working in the formal style, the question becomes one of fitting the interviews into the rhetorical project of the film. For Nichols (2008), facts never speak for themselves: They must be interpreted, which can lead to different conclusions depending on the aims of the interpreter. “One person’s ‘truth’ is all too often another’s ‘propaganda’”, asserted Reeves (1999: 11), pointing out that it is not the truthfulness of the statements that determines their nature in the propaganda realm but, rather, how these statements are framed and narrated (see also Cohan & Shires, 1988).

Besides narration, expert interviewees are one way of connoting knowledge and objectivity. Scholars of rhetorical studies have acknowledged experts as persuasive authorities (Jokinen, 1999; Jokinen et al., 2012; O’Keefe, 2002). In the hierarchy of discourses (Hietala, 1991; MacCabe, 1974), they represent neutral and objective histoire rather than subjective discours (Hietala, 1991). O’Keefe (2002: 183–184) maintained that “both expertise and trustworthiness emerge as basic dimensions of credibility”. “Ordinary” lay people are often positioned as contrary to experts. To quote Livingstone and Lunt (1994: 129), “experts speak for others while the audience speak for themselves”. They argued that because of the new kind of public sphere created by television discussion programmes, “expertise is undermined and lay discourse is elevated” (Livingstone & Lunt, 1994: 97). Echoing this sentiment, Kalpokas (2020: 75) claimed that the post-truth era has brought us from the Information Age to the Experience Age: “Expert knowledge is elitist and out of touch, whereas the […] authentic experience and gut feeling of the people is taken to be the proper representation of reality”.

To summarise, persuasion is an act situated between argumentation and propaganda, or rationality and emotions; however, the boundaries are porous, and there is no clear consensus on the definitions of these terms. Emotive content is traditionally associated with persuasion and propaganda, whereas rationality is associated with argumentation. However, as the concepts of rational propaganda and moral emotions demonstrate, the issue is not as clear-cut as it might appear. Nevertheless, the appearance of rationality can mask the emotional aspect of a constructed truth discourse. Furthermore, facts themselves require interpretation, which in turn creates room for suggestive rhetoric. As the discussion on expert knowledge has highlighted, the constructed ethos of the interpreter or narrator determines how the message is received. In addition, identification and presence enhance a person’s persuasiveness.

An examination of the rhetorical subjects of Moore’s films cannot neglect the filmmaker’s own narration and performances. He was present in his films at four levels of discourse set within a hierarchy. First, he was the author, director, and storyteller of the documentaries and had the final say over the narrative discourse and rhetoric of the films. As Nichols (1991: 37) stated regarding the expository mode of documentary:

[Interviews tend to be] subordinated to an argument offered by the film itself, often via an unseen “voice of God” or an on-camera voice of authority who speaks on behalf of the text. Any sense of give and take between interviewer and subject is minimal.

Moore also appeared as an onscreen reporter in the diegesis of the films. In this role, he conducted interviews, directed the interaction between him and other documentary subjects, and guided viewers’ interpretation of what the subjects said. For instance, when a former FBI official interviewed in Fahrenheit 9/11 stated that had he been given the opportunity, he would have brought members of the bin Laden family to the US for interrogation, Moore’s response that “nobody would have questioned it” supplied the viewer with an interpretation and reference point for attitudes towards what had just been uttered.

Consequently, Moore did not treat his documentary subjects equally. In the interview of Charlton Heston – who functioned as an antagonist in Bowling for Columbine – Moore confronted him at his home and blamed him personally for the death of a small child. The interview ended as Heston left while Moore, clutching a photo of the child, chased him. It is obvious that the purpose was not to sympathise with Heston or allow him a genuine opportunity to speak for himself. Moore took a different approach in The Big One, when he met with a woman whose job was recently eliminated amid downsizing. The scene presented an empathic Moore hugging and comforting the sobbing woman. The difference between the two approaches stems from the differing rhetorical categories of the subjects involved. Heston represents an antagonist and was depicted in the discourse as morally questionable and, thus, a target for contempt, while the laid-off woman was depicted as a victim of circumstance – thus eliciting the other-suffering moral emotion – with whom the filmmaker wishes the audience to sympathise.

Finally, Moore was visible in these films as an active performer. Interaction of this sort is characteristic of Nichols’s (1991) participatory mode. At this level of discourse, Moore was an onscreen subject reminiscent of a political activist, even though the performances often included some humour. These activist performances provided both entertaining moments of light relief and templates for viewers’ own activism. In a sense, they created a model for political mimesis (Gaines, 1999), translating emotions into concrete action.

It is important to stress that Moore’s onscreen persona is a deliberate rhetorical construction, as Benson and Snee (2015) have pointed out. While this character is not identical to the private-sphere Michael Moore, it is an audiovisual representation that sends a message via a nearly caricatured physical appearance that is fundamental to his ethos and which provides a base for viewer identification. The onscreen Moore usually wears a baseball cap, blue jeans, sneakers, and a loosely fitting jacket, also sporting a personal trademark scruffy beard. This visual presence is redolent of a working-class “common man” who stands out against the business elite that the antagonists represent.

Expertise and trustworthiness are the basis of credibility (O’Keefe, 2002). In contrast, symbolic representations of dishonesty and inauthenticity were used to construct the ethos of the main antagonists, such as George W. Bush in Fahrenheit 9/11 and Donald Trump in Fahrenheit 11/9, thus eliciting moral emotions of justified anger, contempt, and disgust.

Moore used experts mainly to validate the narrative arguments. With only 21 of 122 experts challenging the film’s message, most functioned to support rather than counter the argumentation. They provided factual, seemingly neutral, discourse (see Hietala, 1991). However, some expert statements, especially those supporting the rhetorical message of the films, offered normative moral guidance rather than neutral discourse. The FBI researcher in Fahrenheit 9/11, who told how the bin Laden family should have been interrogated, exemplifies this. In these cases, the visually constructed appearance of expertise acts as a façade for normativity.

In general, the experts were filmed rather traditionally. The interviews were typically captured with mid- to close-up shots in an office or other “neutral” surrounding, while material from secondary sources, such as news broadcasts, showed the experts in television studios. In a marked contrast to the settings used for the witness illustrators, the location was generally insignificant, with experts often being filmed in a generic “non-space”.

In Moore’s work, experts and laypersons jointly strengthen the rhetorical message of the narrative. Most witness illustrators complemented the experts’ message or claims with popular verification. However, the experts arguably provided an ethos of rationality that justifies Moore’s documentaries as neutral discursive knowledge.

As noted above, witness illustrators constitute the largest set of rhetorical documentary subjects; they represent lay individuals and lay knowledge and provide first-hand evidence supporting the arguments offered by the experts, narration, or the discourse of the film itself. The evidentiary power of the witness illustrators comes largely from their physical presence in the location, conveying a sense of “being there”.

Moore’s documentaries can be interpreted as participating in elevating lay discourse and undermining expertise (Livingstone & Lunt, 1994). However, in his case, the phenomenon is not as straightforward as Livingstone and Lunt seemed to suggest. The two are complementary. Experts serve as authorities validating the claims constructed by the media text, yet the documentaries did employ more speakers in the category of witness illustrators than experts, thus giving more exposure to the lay experience.

The distinction between witness illustrators and emotion stimulators (the next subject) is not clear-cut and the categories had some overlap. Some witness illustrators provided eyewitness or first-hand accounts of events, acting almost as narrators, and could be distinguished from emotional subjects. However, since a major part of Moore’s witness illustrators represented the disfranchised underdog, they made an emotional impact on the viewer by embodying suffering born of elite decision-making. This impact was caused by the other-suffering moral emotion of compassion repeatedly exemplified in Moore’s documentaries, such as the young gunshot victims in Bowling for Columbine or families poisoned by lead-contaminated water in Fahrenheit 11/9. Moreover, Sicko (Moore, 2007a) provided an especially illustrative example of numerous American citizens who have a medical condition for which they cannot access treatment, mainly due to insurance companies denying their claims.

Elevation, on the other hand, was elicited by the repeated accounts of people fighting against oppressive economic structures. Examples of such witness illustrators include the factory workers in Capitalism: A Love Story (Moore, 2009) who went on a sit-down strike against their employer, or the workers of bookstores who demanded better pay in The Big One. These people provided a model for political mimesis through the other-praising moral emotion of elevation.

While the emotional subjects (101 speakers) were not as numerous as some other speakers, such as the witness illustrators, experts, or media representatives, they served a significant rhetorical function. Operating on the third branch of Aristotelian logic, pathos, they appealed to viewers’ moral emotions.

Let us examine the two subcategories of the emotional subjects in Moore’s films: emotion stimulators and emotion transmitters. The rhetorical function of the former was to trigger an emotion in the viewer. The speech acts of emotion stimulators were not aimed primarily at conveying new information or eyewitness testimony; rather, their rhetorical function was to trigger an emotional response to what was being said, even if they may have appeared devoid of emotions while speaking.

The moral emotions elicited depend on whether the subject was intended for identification or alienation and antagonism. Approximately half of the stimulators belong to the other-condemning family of moral emotions eliciting mainly contempt, indignation or anger, thus arousing antagonism – the “them” of the narrative discourse. The people who attended the Great Gatsby party in Flint, Michigan in Roger & Me provide an illustrative example of subjects eliciting contempt and righteous anger. Here, glamorously dressed guests were made to look and sound as if they lacked sympathy for the difficulties of the city’s underprivileged residents. Moore’s narration introduced the partygoers, stating that they had hired local people to act as human statues at the party. Later, a guest in an interview setting stated that his advice to residents experiencing a rough time would be “to get up in the morning and do something”. The film then cut to a scene of people being evicted from their homes in Flint because of financial difficulties. The positioning of the utterance in the narrative discourse cast it as expressing arrogance or indifference to the plight of the disenfranchised, thus intimating the immorality of the speaker. Evoking negative feelings in the viewer – anger, distrust, and indignation at injustice – cultivated emotions of particular use in character assassination (Aristotle, 1997; Haidt, 2003; O’Keefe, 2002; Price Tangney et al., 2007; Samoilenko & Karnysheva, 2020). Moore’s depiction of the elite, specifically the main antagonistic characters such as George W. Bush in Fahrenheit 9/11, often resonates with the Aristotelian conception of indignation, which is evoked by witnessing seemingly undeserved good fortune.

In addition to other-condemning emotion stimulators, there were also other-suffering emotion stimulators eliciting compassion and some stimulators intended for positive identification. These other-praising subjects mainly elicited elevation by providing a morally “righteous” model. For example, the father of a victim of the Norwegian terrorist act in Utøya, in Where to Invade Next (Moore, 2015), elicited elevation through his forgiveness of the perpetrator.

The other subtype of emotional subjects, emotion transmitters, transfers the onscreen emotion to the viewer through empathic identification. Eder and colleagues (2019: 97) called the mediated emotions that viewers observe from the outside “witness emotions”. As a mirror or model for identification, emotion transmitters transfer their visible emotions to the audience.

A majority of emotional transmitters belong to the other-suffering family of moral emotions that elicit compassion. They include Rosemary Dillard in Fahrenheit 9/11 and Laura in The Big One. Dillard tearfully told of how she lost her husband in the 9/11 attacks. Laura, in turn, was the laid-off GM worker with whom Moore empathised at his book signing.

Furthermore, my analysis found that the moral emotions elicited by the documentary subjects are not mutually exclusive. On the contrary, often the emotional subjects elicit a combination of compassion and anger. That is, compassion for the interviewee subject, but anger for the party responsible for their misery. Examples include the Iraqi people who have lost their children in bombings by the American military in Fahrenheit 9/11 or the daughter of a deceased company employee in Capitalism: A Love Story, who said, in tears, “when someone passes away, they should not get something out of it”, referring to the insurance compensation received by the company resulting from her mother’s death, while the family was left without compensation.

The media representatives in Moore’s films fulfilled three distinct rhetorical functions. They served primarily as intertextual validators who provided “neutral knowledge” in support of the dominant discourse. However, in some cases, especially in Bowling for Columbine and Fahrenheit 9/11, they functioned as a source of inadvertent comedy: a technique described by Perelman (1996) as prolepsis, in which someone is allowed to speak only to face immediate refutation. For example, following a section of Fahrenheit 9/11 that addressed bogus reasons for the Iraq War in 2003, Moore’s voice-over said that “fortunately, we have an independent media in this country that would tell us the truth”. This comment was followed by excerpts from numerous television journalists lauding the war effort in rapid succession. The juxtaposition of Moore’s narration and that audiovisual montage made a mockery of the news media. Perelman (1996) referred to this irony-oriented strategy as “intentionally inadequate illustration”. The rhetorical use of media representatives as sources of comedy or questionable information diminishes their credibility and rhetorical authority.

Finally, especially in The Big One, Slacker Uprising, and Michael Moore in TrumpLand, the media representatives connoted the importance and relevance of Moore as a public figure. These films included short news inserts in which journalists explained, for example, where Moore was going next or how many people were expected to attend one of his speaking events.