In our rhetoric courses, we were taught about the “aggregation of discourses” that define a particular field. This rhetorical concept might seem quite abstract, especially in modern times where it is less pronounced. Essentially, the aggregation of discourses refers to the total conversation between experts, for example within their books, scientific papers, or articles. Within these pieces, the experts address one another and build upon each others ideas. This is an important concept, because these discourses have a deep influence on the ultimate direction of any given field. To be a part of the discourse signals a level of expertise and acceptance within a field and is held in high regard.
In many fields today, especially outside of the sciences, that role is filled by others, such as podcasters, YouTubers, and reporters. These are the people that most often are entrenched in public discourse, or rather, communicate to the public the dialogue between experts that often occurs in more austere forms. This “act of interpretation” is left “solely on the viewer, which leaves it exposed to an unprecedented vastness of minds” under the veil of objectivity and democracy.
There used to be something called the public intellectual.
A class of thinkers — mostly writers with prestigious degrees and academics with a knack for writing — set the Discourse. They told other people what to think, or rather, they told the unwashed masses what was going through their own heads lately. These disclosures were taken with great seriousness, even if they tended toward rambling, incoherent, or obvious. From there, the educated and those who wanted to be seen as educated would pick and choose the opinions they wished to align themselves with. It is through this process that politics were created, refined, and rehashed. (Indeed, the phrase “Overton window” was popularized by them.) This was part of what it meant to participate in the public sphere.
[. . .]
When societies remake themselves, it doesn’t happen because of a handful of pamphlets (or a hashtag or two). Just like the opinionating class first used social media for its own ends, Johannes Gutenberg’s printing press existed for centuries — printing religious pamphlets, sermons, and Bibles — before it began to undermine religion’s monopoly on public life. And the printing press is only one piece of a picture that includes a scientific revolution, religious strife, industrialization, and economic exploitation. Similarly, our current cultural moment is happening against a background that can be best described by that cartoon dog sipping coffee amid a house in flames.
Sarah Jeong
While pamphlets themselves might not directly instigate social change, it can be surprising how much of a difference they do make. These documents—whether in the form of a traditional pamphlet like Common Sense by Thomas Paine or A Modest Proposal by Jonathan Swift, or the form of a blog post or YouTube video—end up providing a spark that can mobilize the public towards a unified goal. After all, that is the power of human language, to bring people together and share ideas and concepts, including social structures.
We often forget that the historical narrative often omits the emotion from such events. Remember that, for the people living in the moment, this was a revolution that they were making. These were real people with real struggles and no idea whether they would succeed. The pamphlets anchored their emotions and channeled it towards a specific goal.
Dossier
“Letterheads: social media and the end of discourse,” by Sarah Jeong, July 10, 2020. https://www.theverge.com/21320338/letter-harpers-writers-free-speech-canceled-social-media-illiberalism