Toward a Gonzo Theatre: Part 2 - Rhetorical V Substantive Justice

 Rhetorical vs. Substantive Justice 

I have “coined” a couple of terms for use in the discussion of this topic. Use at will. 

First, definitions. 

Rhetorical justice is a justice of language. It’s an attempt to make the words that we use more sympathetic to marginalized people. On its face it’s a great accomplishment that we (for the most part) no longer use the “R” word for the intellectually disabled, or trigger pronouns for minority groups. Rhetorical justice is the way we speak in a restorative manner about everyone in our society. It’s a good little sibling to substantive justice.  

Substantive justice is the justice of action and intent. It encompasses what people are thinking and how they act in the attempt at restoring justice to all for whom justice needs restored. In a substantive justice model, we look at the intent of an “offender”, and then their words. We ask questions to learn the intent. We look for common ground. We embrace those who have wronged us and assume good intent from all. We look to improve future interactions through education and love, and we move away from the ineffective and draconian punishment paradigm. 

Currently, due either to laziness or a lack of awareness, our culture at-large, and our theatre communities, are not embracing substantive justice principles; they are instead giving almost sole focus to rhetorical justice. This is very dangerous for theatre makers. It creates a hollow infrastructure: one in which saying the proper words, using the proper style book (a style book is a hard-bound book that is produced by The Associated Press periodically to alert newsrooms to changes in socially acceptable terminology) is as important or more important than providing substantive justice. 

Simply saying the right words without substantive action is an ego-maintenance activity, and has no place in the theatre. An example is described by the buzz-phrase you’ve heard:  “Virtue Signaling”. Substantive justice is required moving forward in order for future theatre companies and creators to address issues that are salient and in need of attention in an effective, change-making way. Words beget words, actions beget actions. Rehearse as you will perform. We are performers and we must solemnly take a hard shift if we are to build a regenerative stasis for the preservation of our art form.

The nature of the theatre is one of experimentation. It’s one of endemic faulty steps and trip-ups. It’s one of constant re-education and debate. It’s an art that challenges everything: established systems, outmoded ways of thinking, the fetishism of the new, the lens itself through which the paradigm is visible, even wokeness.

The theatre must challenge everything in its view in order to function at all. Push and pull are the lungs of the theatre. There must be tension and release, the gears of relationship clunkily grinding in and out of gear, as if forging a road out of wilderness with a machete. It’s not smooth. It’s not comfortable. It’s not safe for the ego. It’s not a place for the faint of heart, nor for anyone who would want to set systems in stone. The theatre is a place of openings. It’s a living organism. It’s a flower reaching for the sun, changing direction as needed to grab the most nutrients. It’s a people outstretching their arms to the heavens, begging for something fresh, new, enlightened, nourishing. The theatre is a place for the wild ones. It is a place for explorers with no hard limits and nearly no sense of self-preservation. The theatre is a place for adventurer souls to collide in a loving, sweltering, sometimes violent dance that shows the true nature of the human condition, without artifice--beyond the presentation.  

Without the right to fuck up, theatre makers would never make any kind of decent work. We’d make things that require a laugh track: shells of shows that discuss trivial mundanities as if they were cultural earthquakes. Disingenuous tripe... the deadly theatre that Peter Brook talks about in 1968.