What Do We Know Now?
At the heart of our argument is a recognition that the term "visual rhetoric" is too narrow to encompass the relationship between rhetoric and the visual. While we still use the term—especially to name an area of scholarly expertise or membership in a subfield—and we recognize that it is not inherently narrow, we also note that what might have meant “a VISUAL orientation to the RHETORICal” has far more often come to signal “kinds of RHETORICal objects that are VISUAL” or, more simply, the rhetoric of pictures. We have no objection to visual rhetoric as a visual orientation to the rhetorical, but we suspect that scholars and students of visual rhetoric will need to stipulate that definition explicitly in order to avoid kneejerk recourse to visual rhetoric = studying pictures.
Pictures have been the bread and butter of visual rhetoric and will almost certainly continue to be important objects of analysis for rhetoricians into the future. Much of Christa’s career has been built on pictures, and this project—even as it decenters pictures—is filled with them. However, we invite rhetoricians to reorient our relationship to pictures—pull back a bit from Marshall McLuhan’s famous aphorism—and find the message not in the medium but in the confluence of the medium, its contexts, its circulations and pauses, and the visual norms and habits that shape each encounter with it. For those well-steeped in the canons of visual rhetoric, this assertion places us firmly on Cara Finnegan’s side of the debate over the rhetorical power of pictures, not because Kevin DeLuca was wrong to emphasize the immanence of pictures but because even that immanence is situated, learned, habituated, and part of a larger visual milieu. It is that milieu, we argue, that ought to be palpable in even our more object-focused analyses.
And speaking of milieu, our account of visual rhetoric has demonstrated that the subfield of visual rhetoric has been troublingly quiet about its own contexts, particularly its enmeshment in Western frameworks and the most traditional notions of what rhetoric does and is for. Because studying pictures (rather than texts) was received as such a radical and troubling idea, scholars taking up visual rhetoric as a subfield have—probably unintentionally—generally avoided rocking the boat in other areas. This means that in a larger discipline rightly critiqued for being #SoWhite, the self-identified subfield of visual rhetoric has been noticeably white—even when we have regularly published about race and racialized images. This subdisciplinary whiteness does not mean that rhetoricians of color are not writing about the visual but rather that those colleagues often engage the intersections of rhetoric and the visual in ways that exceed the traditionalist frameworks that have too often become the boundaries of visual rhetoric as a subfield. Letting go of those frameworks, we will find that the study of vision and rhetoric is already more capacious, less picture-focused, and more attuned to the rhetorical functions of the visual outlined in part II.
In short, orienting toward the "rhetorical functions of the visual" not only expands the purview of visual rhetoric, it also changes where and how we look for the rhetorical in the visual and the visual in the rhetorical.
We have already reflected a bit on the first of those changes (where and how we look for the rhetorical in the visual). It involves a spectrum shift. In essence, pictures, the traditional center of visual rhetoric, are the equivalent of the visible spectrum—the ROYGBIV of rhetoric. As with light, however, the rhetorical functions of the visual extend beyond what is readily visible, into the infra and the ultra. We should not turn away from the beauty and complexity at the center of the spectrum, but if we want to understand the nexus of rhetoric and the visual, we cannot neglect its expanse. This means that visual rhetoric must engage the rhetoricity of visual processes, technologies, and habits, finding them in more places and engaging with more interdisciplinary frameworks. The rhetoricity of the visual calls us to learn alongside work in Indigenous studies, psychology, disability studies, neurobiology, and more. It demands the practice of racial rhetorical criticism. It reminds us that even seemingly innocuous vision is infused with habits best understood through the lens of the rhetorical (assessments of probability and importance, habit, attention/inattention, etc).
The shift in how and where we look for the visual in the rhetorical is equally capacious but perhaps more simply stated. To echo Baskerville’s famous and frustrated query (“Must We All Be Rhetorical Critics?) we ask: Must we all be visual rhetoricians? And our answer is: Yep. One significant implication of the six rhetorical functions of the visual that we outline here is that even seemingly non-visual objects of study are implicated in the spectrum of visual rhetoric. Likewise, vision-based modes of assessment, control, and normalizing are at work in the whole spectrum of rhetoricity. Rhetoricians need to be equipped to notice how those spectra participate in the rhetorical work we analyze.