Stories for Progressive Politics

I have just finished reading Jeanette Winterson’s Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit. I had been wanting to read this book for a long time, and it was worth the wait. In her introduction Winterson writes that:

“The escape into another story reminds us that we too are another story. Not caught, not confined, not pre-destined, not only one gender or passion. Learning to read yourself as fiction as well as fact is liberating”

We are another story. We are fiction as well as fact.

At the start of the year there is a lot of emphasis on how we write ourselves – are we to be thinner this year? Better read? Healthier? More mindful? The stories we tell about ourselves, who we are, but also who we want to be, fill our social media and propel industries of self-help, diet, exercise, and beauty. This is all well and good, but I would like 2025 to be the year that we think more about the stories we tell about other people.

At a time when fact-checking is abandoned by Meta, where the tweets of a billionaire shape democratic politics and endanger politicians, and we are bombarded by sources of (un)truth, we start to see that the story being told about others is becoming more divisive, more violent, more dehumanising.

Any progressive form of politics, as a response to right-wing populist politics, needs to be underpinned by an ethics of care in the way we write about, speak about, imagine others who are both close to home and further away. Instead of a debate taking place between tech billionaires and politicians, we are all implicated in where the boundaries of hate speech lie, where freedom of speech needs to be protected, and accountability for the words we choose and the meanings they covey to, and about, others.

Storytelling for Systems Change is an inspiring initiative of the Centre for Public Impact. Their report highlights findings from community-based projects in Australia and the power of storytelling in generating long-lasting changes in policies, structures, and power relationships. There is a lot to say about this work, but I want to highlight two key findings here. First, that stories privilege the voice of the story-holder. Second, that to have an impact, stories need to be heard. What does this mean for progressive politics in our current time? Well, I think it means that we need to be mindful of our privilege when we are telling a story about ourselves or others. I think we need to pay attention to who is included, and who is left out, of our stories. I think we need to pay attention to the impact our stories have on those who are listening.

When a story about inequality, poverty and access to services becomes one of anti-immigration, when a story about colonial extraction and violence becomes one of failed states and religious war, when a story of underpaid labour becomes one of economic efficiencies and success, we need to pay attention. We need to ask who is telling the story and what it says about them and the others they portray. We need to ask if the stories evoke a social pact based on solidarity and social justice, or on division. Our stories can move faster than ever, reach greater audiences than ever, and fuel algorithms which use and perpetuate prejudice. The democratisation of storytelling that social media has ushered in has expanded the range of story-tellers, but is increasingly narrowing the stories we tell about others.

My resolution for this year is to think about who is being left out of the stories I tell. The stories about myself, the stories about my research subjects, the stories about a neighbour or a friend. In doing so I want to pay attention to the facts and fictions which I tell about myself and about others. I want to contribute to a progressive social pact which is based on an active listening to the stories of others, as well as the sharing of stories of social justice. I want to ask, loudly, who is being left out of the stories on my social media feed.

What stories will you tell this year?

January 2025