There is growing attention in the development sector on how to improve the use of stories. Guides to make storytelling more ethical and responsible are proliferating such as this book and this website. Recently, Degan Ali and Mary Ana McGlasson convened and launched a Pledge for Change with growing number of signatories from the development sector. The pledge includes a commitment to “authentic storytelling” in which “We will use our platforms to show people’s strength and amplify their stories by putting local people at the centre of the story.”
It is definitely a positive step that more and more organisations are drawing attention to how stories are used and what stories are told in the service of development aims. The resounding critiques of colonialism and imperialism within the sector are gaining momentum, putting pressure on previously accepted practices—including an uncritical use of storytelling. At the same time, as with many previous trends in development, more radical and transformative potential in development is often lost as ideas and approaches are “mainstreamed”: think of participation, gender, and rights-based approaches.
To help realise the potential for more ethical storytelling in development, here are some reflections and questions on some of the main ideas in the Pledge for Change (and other examples that use similar concepts):
Authentic storytelling is being touted as something desirable (though it’s not clear what this authentic storytelling is the opposite to...fake storytelling?) The use of the word “authentic” brings up questions like: What makes a story real and true and therefore authentic? I think that the focus on authentic stories exposes an important contradiction: we would like to consume authentic and real stories, but is finding “truth” the point of storytelling?
Storytelling in development is usually about bringing attention to people’s experiences of injustices and how these problems can be addressed. But when we zoom into stories about people’ s actual experiences, truth is not necessarily an appropriate focus. We all can tell different versions of our stories, and these different versions often present sometimes contradictory information. Determining if the story is true or authentic is missing the point of storytelling, for several reasons: first, it is impossible to arbitrate truth and authenticity in someone else’s story and second, because finding a truth is not the point of a story. Instead, as researchers and practitioners we should be focussed on ownership and depth in the story. Has the teller been able to craft a story and present it in the way that they choose? How has the way that we have solicited the story shaped what story is told, what is included, and what is left out? What is the significance of the story, and what can we learn from it? These are questions that are not about whether the story is true or not, and they are not really what makes a story “authentic”.
Asking these questions takes us to issues of representation. Most stories used by organisations in development often necessarily involve speaking on behalf of others, and decisions are made at different levels around how to represent the storytellers. Calling these stories authentic (or striving for authenticity) is not going to leave behind the imprint of inequalities of power in how stories are constructed and used. Rather than labeling stories as authentic (or not), can we put the focus on improving our practice in how stories are told, chosen and used? Powerful stories can speak for themselves, without the label of authenticity.
The Pledge for Change focuses on storytelling, but in reading the Pledge and other guides on ethics, I think that the focus is more on stories than storytelling. Most of the guides, like the Pledge, focus on what is done with the stories, with relatively less emphasis on how the stories are told. If we take this further to look at how stories are told, there is a relatively narrow set of methods being used. Many stories in the development sector are generated by staff in NGOs or academic researchers interviewing people about their experiences and editing the content into a story. Sometimes they might check back with the person about the content they have included in the story. There is hopefully a consent process where the person whose story is being told is able to agree to their story being used, and has a clear understanding of how it is being used. The story is still being told by those with more power in the development system on behalf of those it aims to help.
Building more ethical storytelling will require much greater attention to the “how” of storytelling—there is a whole universe in this word “how”. Some of the questions that we are exploring in our AHRC-funded Ibali research project are about how to make storytelling more inclusive: What makes people confident in their own creative expression? What kinds of structures of story make sense to them? How do these answers vary by context and person? For organisations working with storytelling, some important questions include: How can you align the method for creating a story with the purpose of story: what is the story being used for? What does this mean about how the story should be produced? How can you use different levels of co-production for stories depending on the situation and the context? To answer these questions and make storytelling more ethical requires taking the time to consider the context and the relationships involved before storytelling happens and fitting the approach to these. Working with others to create opportunities for them to tell their own stories sounds like it can respond to some of these questions and challenges. But like so many ideas in the development sector and beyond, approaches that can lead to positive transformation can also easily be used to undermine it.
So. what are risks with using people-led storytelling? Even if organisations use a people-led storytelling process, there are many ways for external expectations to shape the stories: what counts as a story, what kinds of stories are given value and what should be left out of the story. This leads to the repetition of particular narratives, such as the hero’s journey, which will be familiar to anyone working in development: “...My life was hard, and I faced many obstacles. I found [insert programme name/NGO] and now my life is better.” Equally possible is for people-led storytelling processes to create uncomfortable and inconvenient narratives. What happens when people tell stories that are not aligned with organisation’s priorities or messages, or even contradict them? It would be good for the development sector to shift towards people telling their own stories, rather than speaking on behalf of them (and this is part of the Pledge), but which people, and how?
Inviting people to tell their own stories may sound like a good way forward to make storytelling more ethical, but it raises many questions and people-led storytelling processes are not necessarily more inclusive or ethical. The potential for people-led storytelling processes to be transformative lies in several areas:
Presenting experiences in new ways that draw attention to people, issues and questions that may not be recognised in other ways
Challenging our own assumptions about situations, contexts and issues through what we learn from the stories
Making new kinds of connections between those telling stories and those consuming them which recognise our shared humanity.
The Pledge is helpful because it calls attention towards what not to do (don’t use stories that reinforce stereotypes, don’t take stories without permission etc.). For those interested in working with storytelling in a development context, we can take this further by putting more emphasis and thought into where the potential lies for positive transformations. People-led storytelling can move past tired saviour stories that plague development, and simplistic narratives of overcoming barriers if we put more attention on how storytelling is done.