he words, “…The most severe pandemic in recent history” and “infecting over 500 million people” flash across your screen. As your eyes remain glued to the images of bodies being carried away; crowds with mask-adorned faces; and doctors holding questionable vials, you start to wonder if doomsday prophesiers were correct. A sense of panic spreads throughout your city as more people enter institutional quarantines and isolation. “These kinds of things don’t happen every day,” people mutter. The year is 1918.
In 1918-1919, the H1N1 flu pandemic—commonly known as the Spanish flu— devastated the world with at least 50 million deaths, including an estimated 675,000 deaths in the United States. Little was known about infectious pathogens at the time, and the appropriate technology to study them was practically nonexistent. Health experts resorted to non-pharmaceutical interventions in order to slow the spread of the virus, such as quarantine and the use of disinfectants. Despite the increased understanding of the science behind flu viruses as well as the development of innovative technology, the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) still classifies flu pandemics as, “…one of the greatest public health challenges.”
In regard to the pandemic that the world is currently facing, known as COVID-19, the death toll is over 640,000 worldwide. While the jargon employed to explain COVID-19 continues to be disputed, most can agree that it is more than “just a flu.” Fortunately, it is yet to come close to inheriting the title of 1918s pandemic, as “the deadliest flu” or even to reach the worldwide deaths of cardiovascular diseases, cancers, dementia, and diabetes—to name a few. So why do so many people feel as if life as they knew it will never go back to normal? That’s because there is a secondary virus spreading, which has historically spread alongside past pandemics, known as flu panic.
Panic continues to be instigated via social media at a rapid rate. While many positive aspects come from the media during crisis—including crucial updates and information on how to protect yourself from the current virus—the democratization of information dissemination has also meant that now millions of people are able to “share and retweet” misinformation. As a result, the public is in a perpetual state of panic—dubious of the media and authority figures—wondering who and what it can trust.
During a national emergency, whether it be a health pandemic or war, the way in which media and authority figures portray the situation has compelling consequences for the global public’s behavior and attitude. In the case of COVID-19, news sources and even political figures seem to be focused on an emotion-driven (pathos) campaign with the occasional recruitment of reliable sources and statistics (logos).
Kenneth Burke, a late literary theorist and rhetorician, argues that language is “an aspect of ‘action,’ that is, as ‘symbolic action’” rather than simply a means of information dissemination. Thus, when media is covering a health crisis, the narrative they consciously choose to evoke can directly lead to consumers’ medical decisions—such as: when to get tested for said virus and when to wear a mask. In the specific instance of COVID-19, mainstream media tends to use war metaphors and security threats as a description of the virus. As a result, the public experiences fear, confusion, and doubt.
The novel Coronavirus has been deemed as World War III—with President Trump calling himself a “wartime” president. Kate Yoder, of Grist magazine, explains “research shows that the metaphors of war narrow our point of view, blinding us to alternative ways to solve problems. During pandemics, it can evoke xenophobia… And if repeated often enough, war metaphors can make people feel like they’re actually living in wartime, paralyzing them with fear.” Aside from medical researchers who specialize in coronaviruses, most people did not anticipate a World War III of this sort—against an unseen enemy that can’t be fought with conventional weapons.
Similarly, in a scholarly article published before COVID-19, Elizabeth L. Angeli examines the metaphors that were used to discuss the Spanish and swine flu, and how the resulting rhetoric created what she classified as flu panic. While metaphors can be a helpful tool for the public to decipher complicated medical situations, this type of graphic language used during flu pandemics has the tendency to oversimplify, misrepresent, and/or exaggerate the issue at hand. Angeli comments on the importance of understanding the role that message creators play when disseminating health metaphors in electronic media. For example, in reference to H1N1, headlines tended to appeal to reason; while with the more recent and current pandemics, the adoption of technical rationale on media platforms, specifically social media, are almost non-existent.
In addition to the application of emotion-driven metaphors, the article ascribes “The Power of Naming and Scapegoating” as another rhetorical mechanism routinely practiced during pandemics. For example, the Spanish Flu was awarded its name due to Spain’s neutrality during World War I. Being the only country to accurately report their flu cases during a time of profound press censorship, it was assumed that the outbreak began there—although the first recorded cases came out of a U.S. Army camp in Kansas. While Spain took the blame, other countries took every possible precaution to suppress the news.
Specifically, the Defense of the Realm Act 1914, initially a simple act in which Great Britain introduced for the benefit of protecting sensitive information from getting into the hands of the enemy, soon became a convenient ploy to filter accurate depictions of how deadly the Spanish Flu truly was. In fact, “The Harvard Health Letter states that one reason the flu of 1918-1919 was so deadly was because the 'government and public health officials did little and downplayed the danger because they didn’t want to panic people’. Worry kills more people than disease was a catch phrase of that time.”
“Research shows that the metaphors of war narrow our point of view, blinding us to alternative ways to solve problems. During pandemics, it can evoke xenophobia… And if repeated often enough, war metaphors can make people feel like they’re actually living in wartime, paralyzing them with fear.”
“Research shows that the metaphors of war narrow our point of view, blinding us to alternative ways to solve problems. During pandemics, it can evoke xenophobia… And if repeated often enough, war metaphors can make people feel like they’re actually living in wartime, paralyzing them with fear.”
Similar to The Defense of the Realm Act 1914, the U.S.’s 1918 Sedition Act, which, “…imposed harsh penalties on anyone found guilty of making false statements that interfered with the prosecution of the war; insulting or abusing the U.S. government… or advocating, teaching or defending any of these acts” further exemplifies the jarring resemblance between 1918 and 2020. While the crime of sedition is mostly eradicated in the United States, President Trump’s “fake news” agenda sings the same tune as these 20th century Acts—which had a tendency of censoring and controlling the press during the most fearful times.
President Trump is well-known for his inconsistent, sometimes overly optimistic, claims about the seriousness of COVID-19. He has famously gone against medical experts and the CDC remaining ever so hopeful about the successful reopening of America as he states, “The cure cannot be worse than the problem itself.” The method employed by President Trump during this time—simplifying, and at times denying, the issue—is proof of his undeviating style of rhetoric. Once could say his motives are pure—a desire to avoid panic at all costs—however, there is also a strong possibility that his methods are a calculated replication of past practices that occurred during the Spanish flu pandemic: cover-up and denial.
Analysis of the two acts today reveals a strong parallel between wartime tactics, such as government intimidation and targeted legislation, and pandemic rhetoric. The conflicting objective of media outlets and governments all around the world creates a paradox, dividing nations into two categories: those in denial and those in panic. The question remains: what is the best rhetorical strategy during a time of crisis that will inform the public and increase behavioral compliance without spreading worldwide panic?
Research has been conducted on the effectiveness of fear appeals influencing behaviors and attitudes. Fear appeals can be anything from war metaphors to the use of threatening vocabulary. In an effort to get people to follow health guidelines, such as wearing a mask and socially distancing, some media outlets have been taking advantage of this knowledge by practicing fear language. A study completed at Brown University proves that threatening language does have a high success rate with behavioral compliance; however, the use of prosocial persuasive language has the potential of having greater compliance without the negative drawbacks that fear mongering has created in our society.
While we may never know whether President Trump and other politicians are purposefully choosing an emotion-driven campaign targeted at a denial culture in order to diminish panic, the chosen jargon of both sides—the government and the media—have proven to misrepresent, exaggerate, and/or oversimplify the reality of COVID-19. Recent studies suggest promising evidence that the use of prosocial persuasive language may be the answer; however, the relationship between emotion and behavior has proven to be historically difficult to control. As they say, “Pick your battle”.
a global affairs media network
The Rhetoric of Flu Pandemics: Panic and Denial
Photo by Charles Deluvio via Unsplash.
July 28, 2020
T
he words, “…The most severe pandemic in recent history” and “infecting over 500 million people” flash across your screen. As your eyes remain glued to the images of bodies being carried away; crowds with mask-adorned faces; and doctors holding questionable vials, you start to wonder if doomsday prophesiers were correct. A sense of panic spreads throughout your city as more people enter institutional quarantines and isolation. “These kinds of things don’t happen every day,” people mutter. The year is 1918.
In 1918-1919, the H1N1 flu pandemic—commonly known as the Spanish flu— devastated the world with at least 50 million deaths, including an estimated 675,000 deaths in the United States. Little was known about infectious pathogens at the time, and the appropriate technology to study them was practically nonexistent. Health experts resorted to non-pharmaceutical interventions in order to slow the spread of the virus, such as quarantine and the use of disinfectants. Despite the increased understanding of the science behind flu viruses as well as the development of innovative technology, the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) still classifies flu pandemics as, “…one of the greatest public health challenges.”
In regard to the pandemic that the world is currently facing, known as COVID-19, the death toll is over 640,000 worldwide. While the jargon employed to explain COVID-19 continues to be disputed, most can agree that it is more than “just a flu.” Fortunately, it is yet to come close to inheriting the title of 1918s pandemic, as “the deadliest flu” or even to reach the worldwide deaths of cardiovascular diseases, cancers, dementia, and diabetes—to name a few. So why do so many people feel as if life as they knew it will never go back to normal? That’s because there is a secondary virus spreading, which has historically spread alongside past pandemics, known as flu panic.
Panic continues to be instigated via social media at a rapid rate. While many positive aspects come from the media during crisis—including crucial updates and information on how to protect yourself from the current virus—the democratization of information dissemination has also meant that now millions of people are able to “share and retweet” misinformation. As a result, the public is in a perpetual state of panic—dubious of the media and authority figures—wondering who and what it can trust.
During a national emergency, whether it be a health pandemic or war, the way in which media and authority figures portray the situation has compelling consequences for the global public’s behavior and attitude. In the case of COVID-19, news sources and even political figures seem to be focused on an emotion-driven (pathos) campaign with the occasional recruitment of reliable sources and statistics (logos).
Kenneth Burke, a late literary theorist and rhetorician, argues that language is “an aspect of ‘action,’ that is, as ‘symbolic action’” rather than simply a means of information dissemination. Thus, when media is covering a health crisis, the narrative they consciously choose to evoke can directly lead to consumers’ medical decisions—such as: when to get tested for said virus and when to wear a mask. In the specific instance of COVID-19, mainstream media tends to use war metaphors and security threats as a description of the virus. As a result, the public experiences fear, confusion, and doubt.
The novel Coronavirus has been deemed as World War III—with President Trump calling himself a “wartime” president. Kate Yoder, of Grist magazine, explains “research shows that the metaphors of war narrow our point of view, blinding us to alternative ways to solve problems. During pandemics, it can evoke xenophobia… And if repeated often enough, war metaphors can make people feel like they’re actually living in wartime, paralyzing them with fear.” Aside from medical researchers who specialize in coronaviruses, most people did not anticipate a World War III of this sort—against an unseen enemy that can’t be fought with conventional weapons.
Similarly, in a scholarly article published before COVID-19, Elizabeth L. Angeli examines the metaphors that were used to discuss the Spanish and swine flu, and how the resulting rhetoric created what she classified as flu panic. While metaphors can be a helpful tool for the public to decipher complicated medical situations, this type of graphic language used during flu pandemics has the tendency to oversimplify, misrepresent, and/or exaggerate the issue at hand. Angeli comments on the importance of understanding the role that message creators play when disseminating health metaphors in electronic media. For example, in reference to H1N1, headlines tended to appeal to reason; while with the more recent and current pandemics, the adoption of technical rationale on media platforms, specifically social media, are almost non-existent.
In addition to the application of emotion-driven metaphors, the article ascribes “The Power of Naming and Scapegoating” as another rhetorical mechanism routinely practiced during pandemics. For example, the Spanish Flu was awarded its name due to Spain’s neutrality during World War I. Being the only country to accurately report their flu cases during a time of profound press censorship, it was assumed that the outbreak began there—although the first recorded cases came out of a U.S. Army camp in Kansas. While Spain took the blame, other countries took every possible precaution to suppress the news.
Specifically, the Defense of the Realm Act 1914, initially a simple act in which Great Britain introduced for the benefit of protecting sensitive information from getting into the hands of the enemy, soon became a convenient ploy to filter accurate depictions of how deadly the Spanish Flu truly was. In fact, “The Harvard Health Letter states that one reason the flu of 1918-1919 was so deadly was because the 'government and public health officials did little and downplayed the danger because they didn’t want to panic people’. Worry kills more people than disease was a catch phrase of that time.”
“Research shows that the metaphors of war narrow our point of view, blinding us to alternative ways to solve problems. During pandemics, it can evoke xenophobia… And if repeated often enough, war metaphors can make people feel like they’re actually living in wartime, paralyzing them with fear.”
“Research shows that the metaphors of war narrow our point of view, blinding us to alternative ways to solve problems. During pandemics, it can evoke xenophobia… And if repeated often enough, war metaphors can make people feel like they’re actually living in wartime, paralyzing them with fear.”
Similar to The Defense of the Realm Act 1914, the U.S.’s 1918 Sedition Act, which, “…imposed harsh penalties on anyone found guilty of making false statements that interfered with the prosecution of the war; insulting or abusing the U.S. government… or advocating, teaching or defending any of these acts” further exemplifies the jarring resemblance between 1918 and 2020. While the crime of sedition is mostly eradicated in the United States, President Trump’s “fake news” agenda sings the same tune as these 20th century Acts—which had a tendency of censoring and controlling the press during the most fearful times.
President Trump is well-known for his inconsistent, sometimes overly optimistic, claims about the seriousness of COVID-19. He has famously gone against medical experts and the CDC remaining ever so hopeful about the successful reopening of America as he states, “The cure cannot be worse than the problem itself.” The method employed by President Trump during this time—simplifying, and at times denying, the issue—is proof of his undeviating style of rhetoric. Once could say his motives are pure—a desire to avoid panic at all costs—however, there is also a strong possibility that his methods are a calculated replication of past practices that occurred during the Spanish flu pandemic: cover-up and denial.
Analysis of the two acts today reveals a strong parallel between wartime tactics, such as government intimidation and targeted legislation, and pandemic rhetoric. The conflicting objective of media outlets and governments all around the world creates a paradox, dividing nations into two categories: those in denial and those in panic. The question remains: what is the best rhetorical strategy during a time of crisis that will inform the public and increase behavioral compliance without spreading worldwide panic?
Research has been conducted on the effectiveness of fear appeals influencing behaviors and attitudes. Fear appeals can be anything from war metaphors to the use of threatening vocabulary. In an effort to get people to follow health guidelines, such as wearing a mask and socially distancing, some media outlets have been taking advantage of this knowledge by practicing fear language. A study completed at Brown University proves that threatening language does have a high success rate with behavioral compliance; however, the use of prosocial persuasive language has the potential of having greater compliance without the negative drawbacks that fear mongering has created in our society.
While we may never know whether President Trump and other politicians are purposefully choosing an emotion-driven campaign targeted at a denial culture in order to diminish panic, the chosen jargon of both sides—the government and the media—have proven to misrepresent, exaggerate, and/or oversimplify the reality of COVID-19. Recent studies suggest promising evidence that the use of prosocial persuasive language may be the answer; however, the relationship between emotion and behavior has proven to be historically difficult to control. As they say, “Pick your battle”.
