I was struck recently by an implication of storytelling that explains a good deal of the current attitude towards various politicians today.  As you read this, please understand that I’m not taking a political position in this blog; the fallout is too unpleasant in these dark times.  I’m simply noting an aspect of storytelling that has something to tell us about how stories are used in the political context.  So no politically-motivated commentary, please.  The level of hostility is too high to permit rational discourse.

In terms of storytelling, most politicians traditionally like to tell positive stories.  They want to promise the electorate a better tomorrow.  In the schema that I’ve frequently discussed in this blog, that means most often telling a quest story.

In a quest story, the narrative momentum comes from the hero setting forth from his village or her hometown in order to achieve some highly desirable goal.  A better world, prosperity, a chicken in every pot – whatever the goal is, it’s calculated to appeal to as many of the voters as possible.

The genius of a quest story is that the longer and tougher the journey to get to that goal, the better we (the constituents) like it.  It’s counter-intuitive, but easy quests don’t grab us very powerfully.  We like the way to be hard and the obstacles significant.  Think Luke Skywalker.

The reason is that quest stories tell us something about ourselves.  If we have what it takes to reach a difficult goal, then we are strong, full of grit, courageous people.  We like what we learn about ourselves as successful heroes in the quest story.

In contrast, we really dislike a quest story that doesn’t reach its goal.  Therein lies the danger for the politician.  During the campaign, he or she can promise that together we will reach the goal in question, and if it’s desirable enough, we’ll probably vote for the candidate.  But, in time, if the politician doesn’t deliver, then we start to suspect we’re on a failed quest, and we become disillusioned with that storyteller.

If you’re a politician, then, and have a quest in mind for your country, have some way that you’ll eventually be able to deliver.  Or else your fan base will turn on you and become just as enthusiastic in their hatred as they were in their earlier fondness for you.

In recent years, some politicians have tried another story schema.  And it only recently occurred to me why this choice of a story is so brilliant for the politician who has no intention or hope of ever delivering on his or her promises.

And that’s the revenge story.  In a revenge story, the hero perceives chaos, or injustice, and sets to work trying to restore order or justice.  Think Batman.  The hero sets out on a journey of a kind to find that order or justice.  In the broadest terms, the patterns are similar, and indeed quest stories often contain an element of revenge, and vice-versa.

But as we reach the end of a revenge story, a fundamental difference is revealed.  The hero doesn’t have to be completely successful in order for us to feel satisfied – all he or she has to do is to make the attempt, and a little progress.  For some reason, we don’t expect the hero in a revenge story to give us complete order or justice by the end.

A revenge story, then, is the perfect choice for a politician who has no intention or means of ever delivering on all his or her promises.  Or perhaps simply realizes that delivering on those promises is easier said than done.  Perceived effort is all that’s required.

So, for example, President Trump in the United States started a revenge story with his 2016 campaign slogan, “Make America Great Again.”  In order to keep his constituents happy, then, all he has to do in terms of storytelling is to be seen as making an effort to make America great again.  He doesn’t actually have to succeed.

Readers can easily test other politicians’ pitches and storylines to see whether or not they are telling quest or revenge stories, and then they’ll know whether or not that politician, broadly speaking, is under any obligation to deliver on the promise of the campaign.  In the modern era of politicking, less is almost certainly more.