Between Science and Sorcery: The Power of Story
by Mary Cruse
Senior Producer at Unfold Stories
“What I love so much about story… is that it’s the closest thing we have to magic.”
- Glynn Washington
Stories are as old as time itself. For as long as human beings have had the means to communicate, they have told stories.
This urge to tell tales is more than a preference — it’s a core part of who we are. Stories are a means of imparting information and advice, a tool for persuading others, and a route towards connection.
We’re no longer telling our stories in paint or carvings on the walls of caves, but the act is arguably more important now than ever.
The world is both bigger and smaller than at any other time in history. We are interconnected on a global scale — bound together by international trade and travel, geopolitics, and planetary crises like climate change and pandemics.
And yet, in spite of this connection, the gulf between people — their different perspectives, experiences, and environments — can still seem huge.
That’s why stories are such a powerful tool when communicating global social issues — they help us to bridge the gap.
The nature of storytelling is as much down to psychology as anything else. The ‘identifiable victim effect’ is an observed phenomenon whereby people respond more favourably to stories of individual suffering than they do to statistical information.
As the apocryphal Joseph Stalin quote goes: “The death of a single Russian soldier is a tragedy. A million deaths is a statistic.”
The reasons behind this effect are uncertain: some researchers suggest that being presented with an individual story allows us to more clearly visualise people affected by a broader issue. Others contend that such stories create a sense of efficacy by empowering people to feel as though they can do something to change the situation, at least for that one person.
Whatever the psychology behind it, it’s clear that a well-placed story can go a long way to generating empathy.
Intimately connected to this is the power of story to convey information — to embed learning and make ideas and concepts memorable. And so it follows that storytelling is also a powerful political tool — a means of reconciling others to our point of view.
We needn’t look far to see this technique in action. The UK government recently launched a public health campaign that entreats the public to justify their risk-taking, to the faces of patients and medical staff battling with Covid.
There are many contexts in which using stories to persuade is entirely appropriate. But when used irresponsibly, storytelling is not merely a tool; it can also be a weapon.
In recent years, we have seen how political groups have peddled easily digestible and palatable narratives in order to mislead voters and stoke the flames of division.
The oversimplification of complex political issues into stories of heroes and villains obscures the messy complexities of life, making it harder to generate the depth of understanding needed to make informed political and social decisions. Because as the writer, John Green, quips: “the truth resists simplicity”.
At their best, stories can grow our capacity for empathy; but at their worst, they can destroy it.
Ultimately, those of us who choose to become tellers of stories take on a profound responsibility. The science and sorcery of storytelling is such that we have the power to shape ideas, to change minds, and to foster connection between disparate peoples.
It’s as true now as it was millennia ago — stories are woven into the fabric of human life, and they create ties that bind us.
We must remember to wield that force carefully, and with recognition and reverence for the enduring power of story.
