A Picture Worth a Thousand Words

Supposedly a picture is worth a thousand words. Literally speaking, yes, I suppose a writer might use a thousand words to adequately describe a scene. In a metaphorical sense, the cliché points to pictures as perhaps a more effective way to communicate than language; a single picture could quickly convey a very complex idea. Human language has its limits, and so we resort to icons. According to McCloud in his book, Understanding Comics, an icon is “any image used to represent a person, place, thing, or idea” (pg 27). He then discussed the differences between non-pictorial icons and pictures. Basically, non-pictorial icons such as numbers represent invisible ideas, so their meaning is fixed and absolute regardless of their appearance. For example, you could still understand the number “5” whether it is printed in Times New Roman font or graffitied upon a wall. On the other hand, pictures are “designed to actually resemble their subjects” (pg 27). Consequently, the meaning derived from pictures is fluid and variable because of appearance. For instance, faces could be pictured in numerous ways, such as male or female, young or old, happy or sad, detailed or abstract—all of which affects how you interpret or derive meaning from a particular face (pg 28). The pictorial icons can be further subdivided into categories such as “realistic” images and more abstract images we know as “cartoons.” McCloud theorized that people respond to cartoons “as much or more” than a realistic image because 1) cartoons are simplified in such a way as to emphasize particular details and messages 2) cartoons are universal, so that a simple smiley face could “describe” billions of people (pg 31).

I want to focus on the “universality” aspect of cartoons. The more we “see ourselves” in cartoons, the more closely we identify with them—and ultimately, the more likely we could be persuaded by them. During class, Dr. Downs said that identification is not a mindset of “we are similar,” but rather, “I see myself in you.” A mirror effect.  Obviously, when we look in a mirror, we see ourselves; we don’t expect the mirror to project an image contrary to who we are. Identification is somewhat like a magical “trick mirror” in that we see an image we believe to be ourselves, but that image is actually manipulated by someone else holding the mirror. If the best form of persuasion is making someone believe your idea was his or her idea, then identification is surely the means to do so. This concept elevates comics (the combination of pictures and non-pictorial icons) above “childish play” into the realm of potent rhetoric. So why don’t we see cartoons as the main medium of rhetoric? Well, one possibility is that people simply don’t have the time or talent for composing comics to persuade the reader of a particular position or idea. The second possibility is that non-pictorial icons of language are superior tools of rhetoric; since the word “face” is a further abstraction than a cartoon smiley-face, anyone and everyone could identify with that word. “Meaning retained. Resemblance gone. Words are the ultimate abstraction” (pg 47).

And yet, just as soon as I mentioned the second possibility, I noticed several flaws with that line of reasoning. First of all, not “everyone” could identify with the written word because not everyone can read (and read the same language). Deciphering non-pictorial icons is an acquired skill. McCloud described this as perceiving information. On the flip side, McCloud expressed “getting the message” from pictures as receiving information (pg 49). Common sense would dictate that receiving information is bound to be easier (however slight) than perceiving information. Besides, people are such visual creatures anyway. I remember my basketball coach saying, “Visualize what the perfect shot looks like. Look at how you’re supposed to hold the ball, follow-through, and release. Now go do it.” That was the goal anyway—by “visualizing” yourself doing something correctly, you were supposed to be able to do it. Now consider why kids enjoy reading books; if you ask them why they like reading, their common response might be, “I can picture it in my head.” I’ve noticed that when I read, I oftentimes convert whatever I’m reading into some sort of mental image, which helps me better understand what I’m reading. The more technical or theoretical an article, the harder it becomes for me to construct an accompanying image, and thus wrap my mind around the proposed ideas.

As I was searching for articles online about visual rhetoric, I discovered a really neat excerpt from Paul Messaris’ book, Visual Persuasion: The Role of Images in Advertising. He immediately addressed the topic icons and how pictures can trigger such strong responses from people. According to Messaris:

[R]eal-world vision is intimately connected with emotion, which, in turn, is tied to our functional needs as biological and social creatures. When we look at the world, we are strongly predisposed to attend to certain kinds of objects or situations and to react in certain kinds of ways…Consequently, to the extent that a picture can reproduce the significant visual features of real-world experience, it may also be able to exploit the response tendencies that are associated with those features. (pg 4)

I guess the question that keeps nagging me is this: Why don’t we use pictures (keep in mind McCloud’s definition) more often in rhetorical discourse? If “a picture is worth a thousand words,” then why doesn’t the average piece of writing reflect this?