Public Opinion by Walter Lippmann, 1921, Excerpts
Stereotypes
In the great confusion of the outer world, we tend to pick out what our culture has already stereotyped for us by our culture. Whatever we recognize as familiar we tend to visualize with the aid of images already in our mind. We notice a trait which marks a well known type, and fill in the rest of the picture by means of the stereotypes we carry about in our heads. Consequently the stereotype not only saves time in a busy life and is a defense of our position in society, but tends to preserve us from all the bewildering effect of trying to see the world steadily and see it whole. It is the guarantee of our self respect; it is the projection upon the world of our own sense of our own value, our own position and our own rights.
The stereotypes are highly charged with the feelings that are attached to them. Stereotypes are loaded with preference, suffused with affection or dislike, attached to fears, lusts, strong wishes, pride, and hope. They are the fortress of our tradition, and behind its defenses we can continue to feel ourselves safe in the position we occupy.
Any disturbance of the stereotypes seems like an attack upon the foundations of the universe. And since my moral system rests on my accepted version of the facts, he who denies either my moral judgments or my version of the facts is to me perverse, alien, and dangerous. A world which turns out to be one in which those we honor are unworthy, and those we despise are noble, is nerve-racking.
What matters is the character of the stereotypes, and the gullibility with which we employ them. Uncritically held, the stereotype censors out much that needs to be taken into account. It is only when we are in the habit of recognizing our opinions as a partial experience seen through our stereotypes that we become truly tolerant of an opponent.
There are certain clues which often help in detecting the false absolutism of a stereotype. Contradiction is often a good clue. If the experience contradicts the stereotype, one of two things happens. If the man is no longer plastic, or if some powerful interest makes it highly inconvenient to rearrange his stereotypes, he pooh-poohs the contradiction as an exception that proves the rule, discredits the witness, finds a flaw somewhere, and manages to forget it. But if he is still curious and open-minded, the novelty is taken into the picture, and allowed to modify it.
What will become accepted as true, as realistic, as good, as evil, as desirable, is not eternally fixed. These are fixed by stereotypes, acquired from earlier experiences and carried over into judgment of later ones.
‘Progress and Success’ as a Stereotype
The economists set out to describe the social system. The scheme consisted of a capitalist who had diligently saved capital from his labor, an entrepreneur who conceived a socially useful demand and organized a factory, workmen who freely contracted for their labor, and consumers who bought in the cheapest market those goods which would give them the most pleasure.
This pure fiction was retailed and popularized until for large sections of the population it prevailed as the economic mythology of the day. It supplied a standard version of capitalist, promoter, worker, and consumer in a society that was naturally more bent on achieving success than on explaining it. The buildings which rose, and that bank accounts which accumulated, were evidence that the stereotype was accurate. And those who benefited most by success came to believe they were the kind of men they were supposed to be.
With the stereotype of “progress” before their eyes, Americans have seen little that did not accord with that progress. They saw the expansion of cities, but not the accretion of slums; they cheered the census statistics, but refused to consider overcrowding; they pointed with pride to their growth, but would not see the drift from the land, or the unassimilated immigration. They expanded industry furiously at reckless cost to their natural resources; they built up gigantic corporations without arranging for industrial relations. They grew to be one of the most powerful nations on earth without preparing their institutions or their minds for the ending of their isolation. They stumbled into the World War morally and physically unready, and they stumbled out again, much disillusioned, but hardly more experienced.
To the vanquished and the victims, the official portraiture was, or course, unrecognizable. In the same situation one side saw progress, economy, and splendid development; the other, reaction, extravagance, and a restraint of trade.
Symbols
Symbols are so useful and so mysteriously powerful that the word itself exhales a magical glamour. In thinking about symbols, it is tempting to treat them as if they possessed independent energy. Since the offering of symbols is so generous, and the meaning that can be imputed is so elastic, how does any particular symbol take root in any particular person’s mind? It is planted there by another human being whom we recognize as authoritative.
He who captures the symbols, by which public feeling is for the moment contained, controls the approaches of public policy. And as long as a particular symbol has the power of coalition, ambitious factions will fight for possession. A leader or an interest that can make itself master of current symbols is master of the current situation. There are limits, or course. Too violent abuse of the actualities which groups of people think the symbol represents, or too great resistance in the name of that symbol to new purposes, will burst the symbol.
Because of its power to siphon emotion out of distinct ideas, the symbol is both a mechanism of solidarity and a mechanism of exploitation. It enables people to work for a common end. The symbol is also an instrument by which a few can fatten on many, deflect criticism, and seduce men into facing agony for objects they do not understand.
Because of their transcendent practical importance, no successful leader has ever been too busy to cultivate the symbols which organize his following. When quick results are imperative, the manipulation of masses through symbols may be the only quick way of having a critical thing done.
So where masses of people must cooperate in an uncertain and eruptive environment, it is usually necessary to secure unity and flexibility without real consent. The symbol does that. It obscures personal intention, neutralizes discrimination, and obfuscates individual purpose. It immobilizes personality, yet at the same time it enormously sharpens the intention of the group and welds that group, as noting else can weld it, to purposeful action.
Visual Aids
Photographs have the kind of authority over imagination today, which the printed word had yesterday, and the spoken word before that. They are the most effortless food for the mind conceivable. Any description in words requires an effort of memory before a picture exists in the mind. But on the screen the whole process of observing, describing, reporting, and then imagining, has been accomplished for you.
When public affairs are popularized in speeches, headlines, plays, moving pictures, cartoons, novels, statues or paintings, their transformation into a human interest requires first abstraction for the original, and then animation of what has been abstracted.
We find gifted men who can visualize for us, for people are not all endowed to the same degree with the pictorial faculty. We paint pictures, stage dramas, and draw cartoons out of the abstractions.
Pictures have always been the surest way of conveying an idea, and next in order, words that call up pictures in memory. But the idea conveyed is not fully our own until we have identified ourselves with some aspect of the picture. The identification may be almost infinitely subtle and symbolic.
