The Reverend Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech is generally regarded as one of the most important of the 20th century. The speech not only pushed the Civil Rights movement forward, but it also lodged in the consciousness of the planet in a way that is still changing the world half a century later.
I’ve blogged on why this speech is so powerful before, rhetorically, and structurally. But today I’m focusing on a part of the speech that most listeners are not consciously aware of, but that is essential to its persuasive strength. When MLK utters the famous line, “I have a dream,” he does so in a particular way that gives it enormous authority.
His voice describes what we can think of as an “authoritative arc.” In terms of pitch, he starts at one note, rises in pitch through the clause to show his emotional commitment, and then brings the pitch down at the end, back to the original note – to show authority.
This is the voice your parents used when you were small (if they knew what they were doing) and when you heard it you knew further argument was useless. It’s the opposite of the tone many people use today – rising at the end of the sentence or phrase – to seem collegial and to seek agreement. It’s as if everything they say is a question? With a rising tone at the end? You know what I mean?
MLK does exactly the opposite, and therein lies his power. You can’t argue with someone who drops the voice in pitch at the end of a phrase, without dropping the energy. Try it now. Try it both ways, first rising, and then falling at the end of the sentence. You’ll hear and feel a huge difference (unless you’re tone deaf, but very few people are).
And there’s more to it than just vocal tricks. Virtually all of Western music before the atonal classical music of the 20th century – and pop music still – also describes an arc that is similar in structure. Without going into the detail of music theory, a song, a symphony, a sonata, a pop tune – all begin by establishing the pitch that identifies key of music the piece is created in. So, for example, a song like Paul McCartney’s “Yesterday,” begins by resolving down to “F” and establishing the key of F as the basis of the tune (in the version I’m looking at now – it could be in any key). Then, somewhere during the song, McCartney goes up to C, the fifth, and back down again to F. That’s the basic arc of the tune. Every single piece of Western describes the same arc – from the tonic to the dominant (or fifth) and back to the tonic. The art is in the journey, of course, but in this very fundamental sense, Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony describes the same journey (tonic – dominant – tonic) as “Yesterday.”
MLK’s speaking, Beethoven’s orchestral music and McCartney’s singing are fundamentally satisfying to our ears and our hearts because they describe the same arc. Great music, and great speaking, are both journeys – from home base to some far point, and back home again. What journey does your speech, and your speaking, describe?
What a neat insight, Nick.
As a musician, I’m well aware of the I-V-I (or, as is common in pop/rock/blues, I-IV-V-I) progression but never thought to connect it with pitch in a speech. Nicely done.
Brilliant insight, Nick.
And I’m not sure whether it’s me or not, but it seems that many women speakers have this ‘issue’. What do you think: true or false?
Thanks, Michael, and thanks Paul — we actually see both genders afflicted with the questioning tone. It’s an issue in companies where there’s a lot of stress on being collegial and trying to build agreement. The irony is, of course, that you’re more likely to build agreement by being authoritative, not questioning.
Have you ever seen Taylor Mali’s rant about this, Nick?
Here’s a link to it…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SCNIBV87wV4
Wonderful rant, Maureen, on the questioning tone at the ends of sentences, thanks!