Critical Discourse Analysis originated as a way of producing left-wing critiques of right-wing texts. Can it equally be used to produce right-wing critiques of left-wing texts?
Work by sociolinguists at the University of East Anglia in the late 1970s resulted in the development of a new branch of language analysis called 'critical linguistics' which examined how power relations are expressed through language. During the 1980s this approach was refined into what is now called 'critical discourse analysis' or CDA for short. It has been criticised in recent years for being ideologically biased and too grounded in the political beliefs of its exponents, who are mainly left-wing, liberal academics. This essay will consider the origins, intentions and application of CDA and attempt to demonstrate the limitations arising out of these factors.
The first hurdle for a clear definition of CDA is identifying just what is meant by 'discourse'. The conventional explanation is that it is the larger patterns of meaning, above sentence level, in a communication. It is also sometimes taken to mean naturally occurring spoken language (as opposed to written language). These already diverse uses were further complicated by the work of Michel Foucault, who used 'discourse' to describe any written or spoken language in which power is being exercised:
As history constantly teaches us, discourse is not simply that which translates struggles or systems of domination, but is the thing for which and by which there is struggle.
This interpretation was taken up by the CD analysts and how they themselves define discourse:
Discourses do not just reflect or represent social entities and relations, they construct and constitute them.
This still leaves the subject open to critics, who say that 'discourse' is just applied to any text which the analysts want to study. However, one of the central tenets of CDA is that all language conceals underlying assumptions and ideologies; if this is true, that all language is indeed discourse, and suitable for critical discourse analysis.
CD analysts believe that power is embedded in and exerted through language. Fairclough observes that this is ever more important in a society saturated with media commentary on the workings of government:
The exercise of power, in modern society, is increasingly achieved through ideology, and more particularly through the ideological workings of language.
Language is thought to rest on 'common sense' assumptions, which can be ideologically shaped. This process is usually very subtle and pervasive and so is absorbed unquestioningly by the public, thus allowing those in authority to continue to govern by consent. Fairclough seems to find this underhand:
Ideology is most effective when its workings are least visible... Texts do not typically spout ideology. They so position the interpreter through the cues that she brings ideologies to the interpretation of texts - and so reproduces them in the process!
CDA interprets this situation as inequitable because it both deceives the public and disadvantages all ideologies which are not already in power; CD analysts implicitly and explicitly protest against this inequity. CDA's Marxist tendencies come from the left-wing belief that all inequities and marginalisations are created and maintained by the controlled deployment of capital, both literal and symbolic; language can be used as figurative capital, with the potential to benefit some and disadvantage others. The aim of CDA is to reveal how this process effectuates its oppression; Michael Toolan adds that an implicit intention of CDA is to specify how a discourse can be changed to minimise inequity and hegemony.
Considering its chain of Marxist logic, it is difficult to see how CDA could be successfully applied in the services of right-wing philosophies. On the other hand, the end products of CDA are trenchant, politically aware critiques of the assumptions behind discourses and the resulting manipulation of language. Could this not also be relevant to left-wing texts? Toolan lists what he considers to be the political beliefs of his fellow academics:
Critical discourse analysts...[deplore] sexism, racism, discrimination, classism, homophobia, enforced privilege of every kind, domination, marginalisation and exclusion, the uses of power to create and sustain multiple kinds of wealth and multiple kinds of poverty. Relatedly they are in favour of a better world, one of equity, justice, liberation and true democracy.
Of these bêtes noirs and grand aspirations, very few are actually specific to left- or right-wing politics; you are unlikely to meet anyone of any persuasion who is not in favour of 'justice...and true democracy' even if 'equity' and 'liberation' are more contested.
To test the possibility of applying CDA to both left- and right-wing discourses I have selected a text entitled 'Is it morally good to cut taxes?' which takes the form of a debate between a left-wing writer, Ian Hargreaves, and a right-wing opponent, Janet Daley. The participants have declared these titles for themselves, so their politics may not be wholly consistent with any particular party or recognised credo, but they are giving their views on a subject that polarises them on left-right lines. In my analysis I will use the methodology of CDA, applying it according to the tenets of the left and right, as I understand them, and I will begin with an analysis of the right-wing text.
Janet Daley begins her piece with a series of carefully drawn linguistic antitheses: the nebulous 'under some future circumstances' versus the concrete 'under any circumstances', Labour's 'dangerously unsustainable commitment' versus the Conservatives' possibly unwise but now firmly revoked 'unsustainable pledge'. Most significant is the paralleling of Hague having 'extricated himself' with Labour having 'dug itself inextricably' in. This metaphor creates a unconscious sense in the readers' minds that Labour, particularly with their principles on tax, have deliberately put themselves in a physically restrictive situation, and one that they will have to be rescued from, as it were, unlike Hague who is capable of lifting himself out.
She trivialises the left's arguments in order not to have to counter them so strongly, by suggesting that only some of Hargreaves' points are worth dealing with, and that they are not 'serious' in themselves but rather 'more serious'; in her final paragraph she dismisses his treatment of tax take as a proportion of economic output (which takes up most of his text) as 'absurd' compared to her 'serious question'. Daley belittles the national budget of billions of pounds by referring to it as 'the collective pot', and it seems that when she identifies state-controlled redistribution of wealth as 'Marxist' she implicitly dismisses it, since as a self-proclaimed right-winger she is unlikely to favour Marxist principles.
Daley implies that the left wants everyone to 'accept the State as the only arbiter of fairness, the only fountain of wisdom or generosity, and...the only source of moral authority'. Though Hargreaves says this nowhere in his text, and he would almost certainly endorse the 'fairness' of the courts, the 'generosity' of charity and the 'wisdom' and 'moral authority' of philosophy and religion, he is nonetheless constructed as a slave to dogma. Particularly emotive is her suggestion that state decisions might be seen as 'sacred', as if socialists worship at a "church of the State." She also sets up a image of the left as aggressive and negative by saying that Hargreaves 'gloat[s]' about a Conservative change of policy. Similarly, Daley complains that, 'It is assumed without question that anyone who argues for lower taxes is simply greedy and selfish'; despite no such accusations she puts herself in the position of victim, whichis bound to garner her sympathy, and also as the lone voice of dissent (and possibly, therefore, of reason).
The use of pronouns creates two groups: Hargreaves and his left-wing sympathisers, and Daley and the readers, who are encouraged to share her scepticism by being including in 'we' and 'us'. There is also a selection of ideologically-weighted words, notably the repeated use of the capitalised 'State' which, like 'Marxist', often signals unacceptable interventionism in right-wing discourse. Daley appears to be trying pre-emptively to deflect criticism or analysis of her language by throwing in left-wing "buzzwords" like 'hegemony' and 'compassionate'. Her rhetorical question are so persistent as to harangue the reader into rejecting what she formulates as left-wing propositions; they culminate in the final question in which the 'you' seems to be directly challenging the reader.
Overall her attitude appears to be that the left is the common enemy of herself and the reader and that they should unite against it; at the same time she dismisses left-wing arguments as unreasonable, trivial or downright absurd. Daley can be sure that this contradictory approach will not confuse or alienate her readers because they have long been accustomed to this simultaneous belittlement and demonisation in the mostly right-wing press. It may also be significant that the right-wing argument gets the right of reply in this debate, leaving readers with this point of view prominent in their minds and Daley's assertions unchallenged.
Ian Hargreaves uses many of the same argumentative devices to put his case across. Like Daley, he deploys rhetorical questions to make his readers question their beliefs, and he too uses second person pronouns to make that challenge more direct. However, he does not seem to feel comfortable using 'we' to include himself and his audience in a political grouping, only as a nation; he also uses the singular 'I' in expressing his beliefs, which perhaps implies his feeling of isolation on the left of the spectrum. The form of Hargreaves' questions ('Do you really think...?') betrays his expectation that few will agree with him, as opposed to Daley's 'why' questions which attack what she knows to be widely-held perceptions of left-wing politics.
Hargreaves does not stop short of putting words in the opposition's mouth himself, however, when he claims that the right pretends that 'the moral high ground can be secured by shaving a percentage point or two off the government's tax haul' which is a distortion of their argument. He ridicules their leader, William Hague, by saying that he is 'under the instruction' of his inferiors and implying that he will in the future renounce his current views; he dismisses his opponents' opinion on tax as an 'absurdity', and trivialises it with his rather sarcastic quibbling on figures: 'Is it your view that if we could achieve the 30 per cent of the United States our government would qualify for sainthood?'
This reference to 'sainthood' is part of Hargreaves' main metaphor, which is drawn from the question of morality. He portrays the right's views in religious terms: 'economic boom equals tax cuts and soul saved; recession equals perdition.' This is similar to Daley's allusion to a "church of the State" for left-wingers; perhaps Hargreaves imagines a "church of personal wealth" for his opponents. His word choice in this sentence is also significant, as the use of 'equals' makes reference to the spheres of logic and maths, in contrast to the emotional world of salvation and damnation; this sneering treatment might be influenced by Marxism's rejection of religion. However, it seems he cannot bring himself to make the clauses entirely antithetical, and omits 'tax rises' in the second part, lest readers should see these words in a left-wing discourse and assume he is advocating them
Hargreaves' left-wing principles are visible in his word choices; describing Hague's pledge as 'clearly barmy' is an opinion, but he presents it as fact because it seems so to him. His invocation of 'civic morality' demonstrates the importance of collective responsibility in his mindset. Probably all politicians would agree that a sliding scale of taxation is preferable, but Hargreaves' insistence that 'rich people' should be taxed 'more than poor people' shows that his political mentality is based in class struggle and dramatic inequalities in wealth.
As can be seen from my fairly brief commentaries on each text, political activists of all persuasions are well practised in manipulating potential supporters and denigrating their opposition, as stylistic analysis reveals. However, critical discourse analysis is ultimately little more than stylistics when applied to a discourse written by someone who agrees with the ideology behind CDA. In Daley's text it uncovers her unsubstantiated assumptions about what left-wing aspirations are, and her confidence that her readers will share many of her biases and beliefs; the cumulative effect is to depict the left as both dangerous and laughable. The most political observation that can be made of Hargreaves' text is that he is defensive and isolated, and does not expect his audience to accept his views. It is difficult to find many 'critical' points to make about it.
Why does CDA lose its efficacy when applied to a left-wing text? It may be because socialist writers simply do not use language as capital, to improve their position and undermine others. However, if power is achieved through the ideological workings of language, it seems very unlikely that the left would abjure the opportunity to gain influence for itself. It is more likely that the limitation lies with CDA and its practitioners. This is the opinion of HG Widdowson, who argues that CDA should not be called 'analysis' at all, since, he says, analysis should reveal several interpretations, and CDA focuses on only one. This interpretation is likely to be flawed because the analyst does not share an experience of life with the participants of the discourse. Moreover, Widdowson proposes that in a lot of CDA the analysts act in denial of the co-operative principle by insisting on the primacy of their own viewpoint:
It [CDA] presents a partial interpretation of text from a particular point of view. It is partial in two senses: first, it is not impartial in that it is ideologically committed, and so prejudiced; and it is partial in that it selects those features of the text which support its preferred interpretation.
There can be no doubt that CDA has produced perspicacious and sometime startling observations about the prevalence of right-wing ideology in contemporary discourse; this is especially true in the media, where the commercial nature of journalism and news production seems to ensure a bias that should be studied and protested against in the name of fair reporting. However, it seems that there can also be no doubt that CDA itself is politically skewed and is therefore not a useful linguistic tool in all circumstances. Ultimately, what is revealed in critical discourse analysis may not be the underlying injustices and capitalist bias of discourse in Western society, but the ideological perspective of its interpreters.
Bibliography
Bell, Allan and Garrett, Peter, eds. Approaches to Media Discourse (Oxford: Blackwell, 1998)
Fairclough, Norman Language and Power (Harlow: Longman, 1989)
Fairclough, Norman Media Discourse (London: Edward Arnold, 1995)
Fowler, Roger Language in the News: Discourse and Ideology in the Press (London: Routledge, 1991)
Mills, Sara Discourse (London: Routledge, 1997)
Toolan, Michael 'What is Critical Discourse Analysis and Why are People Saying Such Terrible Things About It?' Language and Literature 6.2 (1997) pp. 83-103
Widdowson, HG 'Discourse Analysis: A Critical View' Language and Literature 4.3 (1995) pp. 157-72
Appendix A: Source text
From Http://www.YouGov.com/leftright.jsp
Monday July 17th 2000
Is it morally good to cut taxes?
LEFT: Ian Hargreaves
Good to see William Hague showing some common sense about his Common Sense Revolution this week. Under the instruction of his Shadow Chancellor, Hague tossed aside his pledge to cut taxes as a proportion of economic output no matter what the state of the economy.
This clearly barmy promise was the heart of Hague's grandly named Common Sense Revolution a year ago. But what I'd like to debate with you is not the U-turn, but the underlying premise of the Hague CSR, which is not to be confused with another CSR, the Comprehensive Spending Review, Gordon Brown's expensively furnished vehicle for winning the next general election. Hague's premise was that to cut taxes is morally correct. Low taxes good, high taxes wicked.
No need to dwell on the fact that the Portillo doctrine leaves his boss in moral peril: economic boom equals tax cuts and soul saved; recession equals perdition. The still larger absurdity is Hague's view, as yet unforsworn, that the kind of aggregate tax changes imaginable in modern British politics can be the subject of a claim of moral superiority.
Do you really think that a tax take of 40 per cent of economic output (the going rate in Britain) is morally bad, but that 38 per cent (a hugely ambitious target which eluded Margaret Thatcher) would be morally good? Or that 35 per cent would be morally superb?
Is it your view that if we could achieve the 30 per cent of the United States our government would qualify for sainthood? Do we really think that American levels of taxation and public spending - mainly a result of them having no National Health Service - indicate a higher plane of political and civic morality than France, where the tax take is 50 per cent, or Sweden, where it's closer to 60 per cent?
It's not that I think taxes and morality are unconnected. In my book, it's morally preferable to tax rich people more than poor people and to tax activities which damage the environment more heavily than those that don't.
There is also, I agree, a level of taxes above which no liberal, democratic society could flourish. But there is also a level of taxes below which no liberal democratic society could flourish. British politics is a contest within these parameters, not outside them.
To pretend that the moral high ground can be secured by shaving a percentage point or two off the government's tax haul is worse than barmy; it is barmy wrapped up as self-righteous.
So my question to you, Janet: Is it morally good to cut taxes?
RIGHT: Janet Daley
I am surprised by your opening gloat about William Hague's reformulation of his "tax guarantee". What it means is that while he has extricated himself from what might, under some future circumstances, have proved to be an unsustainable pledge, Labour has dug itself inextricably into what is a dangerously unsustainable commitment under any circumstances. That is, Gordon Brown will undertake in his Comprehensive Spending Review to deliver spending which exceeds the rate of growth in the economy. That is just about as irresponsible a plan as it is possible for a Chancellor to propose.
But let us get to the heart of your more serious argument. Is there a moral case for lower taxation? The idea that the State should be solely responsible for redistributing wealth and deciding who deserves to be given more out of the collective pot, is one of the few Marxist concepts that remains fixed in modern conventional wisdom. So entrenched is it in our political culture that, in the media, virtually the only challenges that are ever put to government on tax and spending, are from the Left: why aren't you giving more to x, y or z? It is assumed without question that anyone who argues for lower taxes is simply greedy and selfish.
Why must we all accept the State as the only arbiter of fairness, the only fount of wisdom or generosity, and - most important - the only source of moral authority? This is particularly odd when politicians are generally held in such low repute. Why should their decisions about who is deserving and what services are valuable, be seen as necessarily sacred and just - which is what a high-tax society must implicitly accept?
Quite apart from the argument that governments are, on the whole, extremely inefficient (and not very compassionate) at running services, there is the larger point that community-based mutual help organisations which are able to respond with genuine sympathy and local knowledge to people's needs, have been almost extinguished by the hegemony of State-run social services.
It is absurd to couch this argument is terms of marginal differences in tax rates. Of course, a society that pays 38% of its wealth in tax isn't inherently superior to one that pays 40%. The serious question is: why is it immoral to want to take financial responsibility for yourself and your own, but moral to expect the State to accept that responsibility for you?
