Narratives of Post-Truth: Lyotard and the Epistemic Fragmentation of Society

Introduction

In 2023, post-truth is everywhere: it manifests in the persisting influence of Trumpism in the United States, was brought into sharp focus by the Coronavirus pandemic and is discussed among politicians, journalists and scholars alike (see Baggini, 2017; D’Ancona, 2017; McIntyre, 2018). Originally coined by Serbian-American playwright Steve Tesich in 1992, the term gained popularity in the wake of Donald Trump’s presidential campaign. The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) famously named ‘post-truth’ its word of the year for 2016, defining it as ‘relating to or denoting circumstances in which objective facts are less influential in shaping political debate or public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief’ (OED, 2017). Since then, the definition has been refined by scholars like Brahms (2020: 17–18) and Bufacchi (2021: 350).

Within the context of this article, post-truth is understood to combine the preference for emotional appeal over rational argument with a profound mistrust towards the institutions traditionally tasked to generate, evaluate and communicate knowledge, that is, universities, media and experts, creating a state of tribal epistemology (Roberts, 2017): an environment in which the truthfulness of a statement ‘is evaluated based not on conformity to common standards of evidence or correspondence to a common understanding of the world, but on whether it supports the tribe’s values and goals and is vouchsafed by tribal leaders’. Far from denying the existence of truth or facts, proponents of post-truth reject only the idea of universal truth in favor of a multiplicity of individual truths. The resulting epistemic fragmentation of society has to be considered a fundamental feature of the post-truth environment. Analyzing its structure and mechanisms is the main goal of this article.

The breakdown of the epistemic foundation of society into a number of epistemic spheres is strongly reminiscent of Jean-François Lyotard’s description of the postmodern condition: of grand narratives losing their discursive dominance and ability to legitimize knowledge while disintegrating into a multitude of smaller counter-narratives. Based on this observation, the article uses Lyotard’s elusive category of petit récit to develop a functional definition of the post-truth phenomenon, ¹ conceptualizing it in terms of narrative. This approach, however, has to contend with Lyotard’s inconsistent use of the term ‘narrative’: in texts like ‘Apostil on Narratives’ (1984, in Lyotard, 1992), he treats narratives as stories, while in The Differend (1988), he conceptualizes narrative both as a ‘phrase regimen’ and a ‘genre of discourse’. Due to these inconsistencies, the concept can hardly be considered a well-defined category, making it difficult to apply to a phenomenon like post-truth. In a first step, I therefore trace the use of the term ‘narrative’ within Lyotard’s work to determine its meaning and specify its limitations.

In order to conceptualize Lyotard’s petit récit in a way which will allow me to explore the post-truth phenomenon, I then use contemporary narrative theory to develop a definition of non-textual or cultural narrative. This approach will enable me to define petits récits as a particular type of cultural narrative, simultaneously addressing the terminological inconsistency within Lyotard’s thought and making the concept more compatible with general scholarship. Since the discipline of narratology almost exclusively focuses on textual narratives, introducing a comprehensive definition of cultural narrative also closes a gap in the center of contemporary narratological theory by specifying one of the most notoriously vague terms in current academic and popular discourse.

Combining the redefined petit récit with Lyotard’s model of phrase linguistics as set forth in The Differend allows me to develop the concept of epistemic sphere, which I apply to Donald Trump’s MAGA (Make America Great Again) movement. Situating this prominent case of post-truth politics within the broader context of contemporary populism, I use it to illustrate the narrative mechanisms of post-truth and the resulting epistemic fragmentation of society.

Lyotard on Narrative

Outside of specialized scholarship, Jean-François Lyotard is most famous for his concept of grand récit: a term describing overarching narrative structures that ‘legitimat[e] social and political institutions and practices, laws, ethics, ways of thinking’ (Lyotard, 1992: 18). In his essay The Postmodern Condition (1979), Lyotard considers ‘incredulity toward metanarratives’ (Lyotard, 1999 [1979]: xxiv) the defining feature of the postmodern, since the sweeping stories of enlightenment, progress and the emancipation of humanity have lost much of their credibility. Even in postmodern societies, however, grand narratives continue to exist, exerting a somewhat reduced influence, and their decline does not ‘stop countless other stories [. . .] from continuing to weave the fabric of everyday life’ (Lyotard, 1992: 19). ‘Because they are short, because they are not extracts from some great history, and because they are difficult to fit in any great history’ (Lyotard, 1989: 132), Lyotard calls these stories petits récits.

Small narratives manifest as ‘networks of uncertain and ephemeral stories [that] can gnaw away at the great institutionalized narrative apparatuses’ (Lyotard, 1989: 132). Where grand narratives aim to establish discursive hegemony, marginalizing minorities and their divergent stories in the process, small narratives resist incorporation into the dominant discourse. Their claim to validity is local and transient rather than universal and enduring, and instead of a fixed long-term identity, they emerge, adapt and dissipate as needed to address a specific injustice: as counter-narratives that challenge the hegemonic discourse of the grand narrative, petits récits are inherently subversive and therefore unsuitable to assume hegemonic power (see Purvis, 2011; Readings, 1991: 47–51; Sim, 2020: 22–6 and 136–46).

In ‘Apostil on Narratives’, Lyotard (1992) cites the proverbs ‘Like father, like son’ and ‘To a miserly father, a prodigal son’ (p. 20) as examples of small narratives. Separately, these adages contribute little to clarify his understanding of the category, since neither exhibits the features attributed to petits récits or even fulfils the most basic requirements of a story. In conjunction, however, Lyotard (1992: 20) uses them to illustrate a relevant feature of small narratives, here referred to as ‘people’s prose’: the ability to ‘say [. . .] one thing and its opposite’ – a quality instrumental in the description of post-truth. The passage in question even provides further insight into Lyotard’s (1992: 19) idea of narrative: while admitting having ‘exaggerated the importance to be given to the narrative genre’ in The Postmodern Condition, he asserts ‘a sort of sovereignty of minor narratives that allows them to escape the crisis of delegitimation’ (Lyotard, 1992: 20). Besides adding another feature to the concept of petit récit, the reference to a ‘narrative genre’ indicates the necessity to situate Lyotard’s concept of narrative within the context of his phrase linguistics.

In The Differend (1988), Jean-François Lyotard develops a pragmatic model of phrase linguistics (see Bennington, 1988: 117–41), wherein a phrase is more than a linguistic structure: ‘[a] wink, a shrugging of the shoulder, a tap[p]ing of the foot, a fleeting blush, or an attack of tachycardia can be phrases’ (Lyotard, 1988: 70), as can silence (Lyotard, 1988: xii) or a cat raising its tail (Lyotard, 1988: 76–7). Phrases are linked to one another according to specific rules or phrase regimens that may be, among others, descriptive, prescriptive, interrogative, ostensive or narrative. And while phrase regimes are irreducible in the sense that ‘[p]hrases from heterogeneous regimens cannot be translated from one into the other’ (Lyotard, 1988: xii), they are linked together by genres of discourse that ‘submit phrases from different regimens to a single finality: the question, the example, the argument, the narration, the exclamation are in forensic rhetoric the heterogeneous means of persuading’ (Lyotard, 1988: 29). In this example, ‘question,’ ‘narration’ and ‘exclamation’ are phrase regimens, while ‘forensic rhetoric’ constitutes a genre of discourse. Other discursive genres include dialogue, speculative dialectics, science, philosophy, and narrative. Within the works of Lyotard, narrative is therefore categorized both as a phrase regimen (see Lyotard, 1988: 42 and 76) and a genre of discourse (see Lyotard, 1988: 151 and 158, 1989: 314, 1992: 19–20), and occasionally even accorded the power of ‘encompass[ing] the multiplicity of families of sentences and of possible discursive genres’ (Lyotard, 1989: 321).

At first glance, it might seem a mere technicality whether Jean-François Lyotard conceives of narrative as a phrase regimen, a discursive genre or something else entirely. However, this terminological imprecision causes a conceptual conflation not without consequence. This is most evident in The Postmodern Condition, where the breakdown of grand narratives does not result in multitudes of small narratives, but rather in ‘flexible networks of language games’ (Lyotard, 1999 [1979]: 43), implying a functional equivalence between these two categories widely accepted within Lyotard scholarship (see Jones, 2014: 140; Schalkwyk, 1997: 129; Smith, 2011: 185). The equivalence is legitimized by Lyotard conceptualizing both narratives and language games as phrase regimens (Lyotard, 1999 [1979]: 46, 1988: xiii), disregarding their structural differences. In order to highlight the problematic nature of this equivalence, I will briefly summarize Ludwig Wittgenstein’s concept of language game.

In his Philosophical Investigations (1953), Ludwig Wittgenstein develops ‘a picture of language as a set of instruments or techniques that are employed by speakers in the course of their everyday lives’ (McGinn, 1997: 49), emphasizing ‘the fact that the speaking of language is part of an activity, or of a form of life’ (Wittgenstein, 2009 [1953]: §23; see also Hertzberg, 2014; Sluga, 2011: 57–75). ² In Wittgenstein’s understanding, the meaning of a word is determined not by reference to an object or concept, but by its use in communicative action (see Wittgenstein, 2009 [1953]: §1). The game metaphor has a number of relevant implications: the use of language is governed by a specific set of rules; these rules not only differ between language games, but are also subject to change; and what is considered a permissible ‘move’ or a correct statement is contingent on the particular communicative situation (see Wittgenstein, 2009 [1953]: §133; see also Hertzberg, 2014: 45; McGinn, 1997: 66). The examples of language games enumerated in Investigations §23 include ‘[c]onstructing an object from a description’, ‘[f]orming and testing a hypothesis’, ‘[m]aking up a story; and reading one’, ‘[a]cting in a play’ and ‘[s]olving a problem in applied arithmetic’. Although a detailed definition of narrative will only be provided in the subsequent section, it is obvious that only one of these examples can be considered a narrative.

While narratives and language games might be functionally equivalent within Lyotard’s phrase linguistics, the two entities are fundamentally different by any external standard. This discrepancy, together with the inconsistent classification as both a phrase regimen and a genre of discourse, make it difficult to consider Lyotard’s concept of narrative a well-defined category that could successfully be applied to the post-truth phenomenon. In order to address this problem, the next section will first establish a definition of textual narrative as a point of reference and, in a second step, propose a general concept of cultural narrative. The newly developed category will then be used to redefine the term petit récit, which will not only make Lyotard’s concept of narrative more compatible with general scholarship, but also address an imbalance within the discipline of narratology and provide the analytical tool for the subsequent exploration of post-truth.

From Textual to Cultural Narrative

Narratology can be defined as the scholarly discipline ‘dedicated to the study of the logic, principles, and practices of narrative representation’ (Meister, 2014: 623) – that is: the study of narrative. In classical narratology the term ‘narrative’ almost exclusively refers to literary or fictional narratives. The narrative turn of the 1990s transformed narratology from a structuralist approach to the analysis of literary texts into a meta-theory of the Humanities (Dawson, 2017; Kreiswirth, 2008), massively expanding the scope of the discipline (Scheffel, 2012; Sommer, 2012): so-called ‘post-classical’ narratology analyzes non-fictional texts like newspaper articles and blog posts (Klein and Martínez, 2009), other narrative forms like films and video games (Ryan and Thon, 2014), and even legal, medical and historical narratives (Hühn et al., 2014). Varied as they may be, these narratives are still fundamentally textual, provided that ‘text’ is understood to include ‘not only language-based acts of communication but any deliberate and structured use of signs’ (Ryan, 2017: 518).

The increased popularity of ‘narrative’, not just in academia, but among the general public, is in no small part due to Jean-François Lyotard. After The Postmodern Condition introduced the concept of grand récit, its unexpected success popularized the idea of narrative as a means to describe and explain cultural phenomena. In recent years, the term has become ubiquitous, turning into what Ophir (2018: 63) calls a placeholder: one of those commonly used terms ‘that people don’t bother to explain, and that are used as if they were familiar and well known’, when actually they are only insufficiently defined. Due to this terminological vagueness, narrative is often misconstrued as the opposite of fact or truth. Statements like ‘There is no right answer, only narrative’ (McIntyre, 2018: 125) are common in discussions about post-truth.

Considering their enduring cultural impact, it is surprising that Lyotard’s grands récits have largely been ignored by narratological scholarship. Eminent narratologist Marie-Laure Ryan (2007: 30) voices the general consensus when asserting that Lyotard’s grand narratives ‘can only be called narratives in a metaphorical sense’. Illustrating more than just the chasm between Lyotard and narratological scholarship, her statement indicates an imbalance within the theoretical foundation of narratology itself: even after the narrative turn, narratologists are predominantly focused on textual narratives in the sense indicated above. ³ Not without reason, they caution against ‘the risk of stretching the concept [of narrative] too thin’ (Ryan, 2017: 526) by applying it ‘to phenomena that are not textually embodied’ (Ryan, 2017: 528), and Lyotard’s use of the term is often cited as an example for the shortcomings of this approach (see Ryan, 2008: 344–8; Ryan, 2017: 526–7). As a result of this preference, a commonly accepted definition of non-textual narratives does not yet exist.

Most narratologists agree that a textual narrative is ‘the representation of an event or a series of events. [. . .] Without an event or an action, you may have a “description,” an “exposition,” an “argument,” a “lyric,” a combination of these or something else altogether, but you won’t have a narrative’ (Abbott, 2008: 13; see Ryan, 2007: 23–4). Fundamental terminological distinctions were established half a century ago by French narratologist Genette (1983: 27), who proposes ‘to use the word story for the signified or narrative content [. . .], to use the word narrative for the signifier, statement, discourse or narrative text itself, and to use the word narrating for the producing narrative action’. A story, according to Genette, consists of a sequence of real or fictional events that are actualized into a narrative by process of narration.

Using Genette’s distinctions to refine Porter Abbott’s ‘thumbnail characterization’ (Ryan, 2007: 23), the term ‘narrative’ can more precisely be described as a combination of two elements: the narrative discourse, that is, the deliberate and structured use of signs; and the story it conveys, that is, its meaning or content. In a slight modification of Genette, the term ‘story’ no longer indicates a series of events, but a cognitive construct evoked by the narrative discourse: ‘[W]e never see a story directly, but instead always pick it up through the narrative discourse. The story is always mediated [. . .] so that what we call the story is really something that we construct’ (Abbott, 2008: 20). Therefore, the concept of textual narrative can be defined as the combination of (1) a semiotic artifact and (2) the mental representation of a series of real or fictional events it invokes in the mind of its receiver.

Clearly, neither the proverbs cited in ‘Apostil on Narratives’ nor Lyotard’s notion of narrative as a discursive genre correspond to this definition. However, the question arises whether this can even legitimately be expected. While leaving the narrative independent of ‘any particular medium, and [. . .] of the distinction between fiction and non-fiction’ (Ryan, 2007: 26), this definition still refers to textual narratives only. Lyotard’s narratives, whatever else they may be, are discursive phenomena not embodied in individual semiotic artifacts. Furthermore, given his fundamental skepticism towards representation, it seems unlikely that Lyotard would conceive of narratives as representational constructs. Taking these objections into account, I will now develop a concept of non-textual narrative suitable for the description of cultural phenomena like post-truth. In a second step, I will redefine Lyotard’s petit récit within the framework of this new category.

Abbott’s (2008: 236) concept of masterplot constitutes a promising attempt to bridge the gap between textual and cultural narratives. ⁴ The term refers to ‘[r]ecurrent skeletal stories, belonging to cultures and individuals that play a powerful role in questions of identity, values, and the understanding of life’ (2008: 236). As an example, Abbott (2008: 46–7) refers to the ‘Cinderella masterplot’, ‘a thread of neglect, injustice, rebirth, and reward’ that occurs in many different forms. However, he also describes the 1995 murder trial of former NFL player O.J. Simpson as ‘a contest of narratives in which the contestants draw on masterplots’, namely (1) the story of the black man who is unjustly punished for stepping ‘out of his place’; (2) the story of the battered wife and (3) the story of unjust privilege accorded to celebrity and wealth (Abbott, 2008: 48–9).

In general terms, Abbott (2008: 47) characterizes masterplots as ‘a kind of cultural glue that holds societies together’. Masterplots are the underlying narrative patterns derived from and simultaneously shaping the perception of real-world events: the O.J. Simpson case can be seen as a concrete manifestation of the masterplot of the black man unjustly punished for stepping ‘out of his place’, just like the Harry Potter novels can be read as modern adaptations of the Cinderella masterplot. Unfortunately, Abbott (2008: 58) does not sufficiently explore the concept: while his examples are convincing, the definition of masterplots as ‘coded narrative formulas that end with closure’ offers little insight. I will therefore combine Porter Abbott’s concept with a term borrowed from Albrecht Koschorke’s Fact and Fiction (2018 [2012]).

Koschorke (2018 [2012]: 17–18) conceives of narration as a selective process that reduces and simplifies the multitudes of narrative discourses circulating in a society. These discourses are transformed and partially codified in the form of narrative patterns that correspond to Porter Abbott’s masterplots. Since they are based on individual tales told within a community, these abstract patterns are easily recognizable to community members, allowing for identification and suggesting a specific perspective on certain events. Seeing a series of events as corresponding to a particular narrative pattern shapes their perception and interpretation. Once again referring to Porter Abbott’s vivid example: the narrative pattern of the black man unjustly punished for stepping ‘out of his place’ can be conceived as an abstraction based on countless individual experiences of racial discrimination and injustice, told and re-told innumerable times. While this pattern is recognizable to most people, to people of color it also offers the potential for identification. When perceived as an example of this pattern, the events involving O.J. and Jessica Simpson are understood in a particular way. By contrast, people who see the same events adhering to the narrative pattern of unjust privilege accorded to celebrity and wealth will inevitably reach a different conclusion. Importantly, both sides will feel justified in their position, which will influence their reaction to diverging opinions. In other words: by providing an interpretative structure, cultural narratives establish a correlation between events, affecting their perception, interpretation and meaning. While the definition of textual narrative presupposes some form of mediation, cultural narratives shape reality – a feature shared with Lyotard’s grand narratives.

Using these insights to adapt the concept of textual narrative established above, I propose the following definition: a cultural narrative is a discursive constellation connecting the multitudes of narrative discourses circulating within a community to a smaller number of abstract narrative patterns or masterplots. By establishing meaningful correlations between events, these patterns offer the potential for identification and interpretation to community members, shaping reality in the process.

Since a similar perception of reality leads to shared opinions and judgements, which in turn foster the formation of a collective identity based on common values, one could argue that shared cultural narratives significantly contribute to the constitution of communities. ⁵ Even more crucially, once accepted, the narrative provides the criteria for assessing the validity of information: what is considered true or false, right or wrong, real or fake is now contingent on its conformity with a group’s foundational narrative. In this way, each cultural narrative establishes its own epistemic sphere, literally creating truths and shaping reality – which brings me neatly back to the post-truth phenomenon.

Before analyzing the mechanisms of post-truth, however, it is necessary to conclude both the narratological and the philosophical thread of this argument by explicitly redefining Jean-François Lyotard’s petit récit. In itself, the definition of cultural narrative is not suitable for this purpose, since it is deliberately couched in general terms to be most widely applicable. To accommodate its particular properties, I conceptualize ‘small narrative’ as a type of cultural narrative characterized by the traits and functions delineated above. Combining fundamental concepts of narrative theory with the insights of Lyotard scholarship, I propose the following definition: a small narrative is a locally and temporally limited type of cultural narrative, that is, a discursive constellation connecting the multitudes of narrative discourses circulating within a community to a smaller number of abstract narrative patterns. Such a petit récit arises to address a specific problem and functions as a counter-narrative to challenge the hegemonic discourse. It constitutes independent communities by establishing its own epistemic sphere, legitimizing alternative voices and viewpoints. Being intrinsically unsuited to assume discursive dominance, the small narrative disappears once its task is fulfilled. Couched in narratological terms, this redefinition offers the first structural description of Lyotard’s elusive petit récit, allowing for the category’s subsequent use in the analysis and description of post-truth.

Small Narratives and Epistemic Spheres

How can the redefined petit récit be applied to the post-truth situation? In ‘Lessons in Paganism’, Lyotard (1989: 135) outlines the idea of a society ‘based upon [small] narratives’ that would allow previously marginalized groups like ‘women, children, metics, slaves, foreigners and dissidents’ to take part in public discourse without being silenced by the hegemonic power of a grand narrative. The term paganism Lyotard (1989: 136) uses to describe this society etymologically derives from the Latin pagus, which ‘was used to refer to the frontier region on the edge of town’, the fringes of the polis. In Lyotard’s terminology, pagus indicates ‘a region that has not been assimilated by a consensual politics’ (Docherty, 2011: 158) and subjected to the dominance of a grand narrative. In The Differend, Lyotard famously likens a similar constellation to an archipelago (see Sim, 2011), postulating that ‘[e]ach genre of discourse would be like an island’ (Lyotard, 1988: 130), governed by a particular set of rules and distinct from all other islands (see Sim, 2020: 69–70). While communication between different discursive genres is possible through the Kantian ‘faculty of judgement’ (Lyotard, 1988: 130), Lyotard is most interested in the moment of communicative failure he calls a differend.

Conceptualized within the framework of phrase linguistics, differends arise from those ‘encounters between phrases of heterogeneous regimen’ (Lyotard, 1988: 29) that cannot be mediated. Transposing these incidents of pragmatic incommensurability into a social and political context, Lyotard (1988: xi) defines a differend as ‘a case of conflict between (at least) two parties, that cannot be equitably resolved for lack of a rule of judgment applicable to both arguments’. In these situations, one party has wronged another, but ‘the plaintiff is divested of the means to argue and becomes for that reason a victim’ (Lyotard, 1988: 9). For the same reason, the wrong done to the victim cannot be recognized and redressed by an adjudicating tribunal, since deliberation and judgement would have to be carried out in the language of the dominant party. Lyotard’s most famous differends relate to a Holocaust denier’s twisted argumentation against the existence of gas chambers (see Lyotard, 1988: 3–4) and the Nazis’ silencing of Jewish voices (see Lyotard, 1988: 100–3). In both cases, the victims are prevented from expressing their injury in terms either their opponent or any jury would accept.

The epistemic spheres introduced in the previous section can be conceptualized as adaptations of both paganism and the differend: based on a petit récit, each sphere is ruled by its own epistemic criteria, determining what is considered true or false, right or wrong, real or fake. Despite obvious structural similarities, there are important differences between the resulting constellation and Lyotard’s metaphorical archipelago: while his attention in The Differend is focused on those encounters of heterogeneous phrase regimens that result in differends, successful communication between differend ‘islands’ of discursive genres is generally possible, mediated by the faculty of judgement. By contrast, epistemic spheres are fundamentally incommensurable, since inhabitants of different epistemic spheres do not even share a common concept of truth or factfulness, creating what I call, with reference to Lyotard, an epistemic differend.

Before the concept of epistemic spheres can be applied to the current post-truth situation, the state of postmodern society needs to be considered. Despite having lost much of their former influence, grand narratives are still present within public discourse, beset from all sides by petits récits. Since epistemic spheres originate from these locally limited counter-narratives, the voices and viewpoints they legitimize are by definition both contrarian and subaltern in relation to the hegemonic discourse. And while this structural power imbalance resembles the constellation of victim and oppressor described in The Differend, there is one crucial difference. As indicated by his use of terms like ‘litigation’, ‘tribunal’ or ‘plaintiff’, Lyotard implicitly assumes a juridical setting: a victim looking for arbitration by a third party, which turns out to be linguistically impossible. By contrast, the inhabitants of an epistemic sphere are structurally unable to seek arbitration despite their discursive disadvantage, since even the attempt would require them to accept outside epistemic criteria. For this reason, inhabitants of such a sphere will often perceive themselves as victims, while simultaneously insisting on the exclusive validity of their sphere’s epistemic criteria, their individual truth and facts.

Post-Truth and Populism

In the last step of my argument, I will now use the concepts of epistemic sphere and petit récit to describe and explain the most prominent example of post-truth politics, Donald Trump’s MAGA movement. To demonstrate that neither the scope of analysis nor the implications of its results are limited to this particular the case, I will briefly situate Trumpism within the context of contemporary populism.

Conceptualized as ‘a rhetorical style of communications’ (Norris and Inglehart, 2019: 66) rather than a fully developed ideology (see Stanley, 2008), populism is characterized by an irreconcilable dichotomy between two supposedly homogeneous groups, ‘the people’ and ‘the elites’. In this model, political sovereignty is derived solely from the will of the people who are envisioned as fundamentally virtuous, while the elites are conceived of as inherently selfish and dishonest. The notion of a corrupt ruling class leads to a crisis of legitimacy and representation leaving many people to feel disenfranchised, causing fundamental distrust in political institutions and evoking the desire for a charismatic leader to champion the people’s cause against the establishment.

Despite drawing criticism from scholars like Laclau (2005: 3–20) and Traverso (2019: 15–19), this approach to populism has proven useful to describe the style of politics embodied by Donald Trump (see Conley, 2020; Sligo, 2018; Wahl-Jorgensen, 2018). Trump’s 2016 victory can be seen as ‘part of a general tendency in which movements emerge to challenge the established powers-that-be and to a certain degree globalization itself (the euro, the EU, the US establishment) from the right’ (Traverso, 2019: 25). These movements include Boris Johnson’s pro-Brexit campaign in the UK, the so-called Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) in Germany, the Front National in France, Law and Justice (PiS) in Poland and Victor Orbán’s Fidesz in Hungary.

Donald Trump presents himself as fighting for the interests of supposedly ‘ordinary Americans’ against intellectual elites and the political establishment. Feeling left behind by economic developments like globalization and turned into strangers in their own land by the rise of liberal values, many of his supporters resent and distrust a political system they perceive to be ‘rigged’ against them. Taking advantage of the charisma afforded to him by his status as a TV celebrity, Trump uses slogans like ‘Make America Great Again’ to unify this disparate collection of grievances, while his deliberately ‘angry’ rhetoric stokes existing resentments in order to delegitimize democratic institutions. As Hahl et al. (2018: 3) demonstrate, his role as champion of the people turns even his incoherent speaking style and demonstrably false statements to his advantage, since ‘a lying demagogue can appear as a distinctively authentic champion’ to those feeling betrayed by the system. By flaunting his disdain for political and social norms, as well as his blatant disregard for the standard of truthfulness, Trump demonstrates his anti-establishment position. This aspect of his rhetoric is particularly effective since the very concept of truth ‘is no longer perceived by many [of his followers] as disinterested or factual but instead may be considered to be corrupted’ (Sligo, 2018: 138) by the very elites Trump belittles and condemns. ⁶

This description shows how Trump-style politics foster a post-truth environment, which in turn provides the ideal conditions for the flourishing of populism: both phenomena appeal to emotions rather than rational argument, creating a constellation of tribal epistemology that challenges the idea of universal truth. After situating Trump in the context of both contemporary populism and post-truth, the stage is set for the final step in the argument: demonstrating the practical usefulness of epistemic spheres for the analysis of the post-truth phenomenon by applying the category to Donald Trump’s MAGA movement. Since epistemic spheres are based on small narratives, which in turn have been conceptualized as a particular type of cultural narrative, this approach raises an obvious question: how does the concept of narrative feature in the description of Trump’s post-truth politics?

The answer hinges on the slogan giving the whole movement its name, Make America Great Again. While not in itself a narrative, the slogan can be understood as its ‘encapsulation’ (Weixler, 2021: 127) or, with Koschorke (2018 [2012]: 213), as ‘a microplot, which is to say a motivated sequence between two [or more] states’. Specifically, MAGA invokes a narrative pattern familiar from ancient myths and modern blockbuster movies alike: the triadic sequence of an original state of harmony, its disruption and eventual utopian restitution though the efforts of a hero. Once, so the message goes, America was great. Then globalization destroyed millions of jobs, liberalism eroded traditional conservative values, threatening the American way of life, and only Donald Trump can reverse this aberration and make America great again. According to this description, the present is inherently flawed compared to the glorious past, a view shared by many Trump supporters who feel disadvantaged, victims of historical and political forces beyond their understanding or control (Weixler, 2021: 145–9).

When arguing that Make America Great Again can be understood as the encapsulation of a small narrative, this last aspect is particularly significant. Since it condenses a large number of narrative discourses and individual experiences into one narrative pattern, offering identification and ready-made explanations to many Americans, the MAGA slogan does plausibly function as a stand-in for a cultural narrative. In order also to qualify as a petit récit, however, additional criteria have to be met: while it is possible to regard this particular narrative as locally and temporally limited and having arisen in reaction to a specific problem, can it really be considered a counter-narrative? After all, the slogan encapsulating it provides identification to millions of people, helped to elect a real-estate mogul president and dominates US domestic politics to this day. Yet, as argued above, the followers of a populist movement often feel disadvantaged by a ‘rigged’ system and corrupt elites. As paradoxical as it might seem for a group considering itself ‘the people’ to be represented by a counter-narrative, this position is consistent within the populist worldview: in a system ruled by corrupt politicians, out-of-touch liberal intellectuals and mainstream media disseminating fake news, Trump’s followers see themselves as a silent majority, fighting for their values against ‘woke culture’ and political correctness.

This self-perception is likely reinforced by recent efforts of the US government to assert the rule of law vis-à-vis Donald Trump and his most radical supporters. On 1 July 2021, the US House of Representatives established the ‘United States House Select Committee on the January 6 Attack’ to investigate the storming of the Capitol on 6 January 2021 and identify the persons responsible. By July 2022, almost 900 people had been charged for their involvement in the failed insurrection, with some being sentenced to several years in prison (see Cheney and Gerstein, 2022). On 8 August 2022, the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) executed a search warrant for former president Trump’s private residence in Mar-a-Lago, recovering sensitive government documents (see Haberman et al., 2022). This action was met with outrage from conservative circles. Roberts (2022), president of the conservative think tank the Heritage Foundation, considered the search ‘yet another example of the federal government weaponizing law enforcement to punish political enemies, silence critics, and send a message to those whom it views as enemies’.

Roberts’ rhetoric both reflects and feeds into the populist assumptions underlying the MAGA ideology: the notion of the FBI being used in a politically motivated attack by an illegitimate ‘leftist’ government seemingly confirms the suspicions and fears of many Trump supporters, fueling their distrust towards democratic institutions and deepening the populist divide. Thus, recent developments and their interpretation by conservative pundits and media outlets reinforce the epistemic differend separating the MAGA movement and its epistemic sphere from the rest of society.

It has been demonstrated that the cultural narrative encapsulated in Make America Great Again can legitimately be considered a petit récit, and analogous arguments can be made for other populist movements like the Brexit leave campaign (see Weixler, 2021: 146; cf. Sim, 2020: 60–61), but also for Covid and climate change deniers. Each of these groups is surrounded by an epistemic sphere based on a small narrative and governed by its own rules to determine what is considered real, true and factual. Each sphere is separate from all others through epistemic differends and, collectively, these spheres and their underlying small narratives constitute the post-truth condition.

Conclusion

This article develops a functional analysis of the narrative mechanisms of post-truth, addressing three distinct but interrelated topics: Jean-François Lyotard’s inconsistent use of the term ‘narrative’, the lack of a comprehensive definition of cultural narrative in narratological theory, and the epistemic fragmentation that characterizes a post-truth environment. Its initial hypothesis is based on the structural similarities between such a constellation and Lyotard’s description of the postmodern condition: the mechanisms of post-truth may be described in narrative terms, with particular reference to the category of petit récit.

Considering Lyotard’s inconsistent use of the term ‘narrative’ and the resulting conceptual conflation, I utilize contemporary narrative theory to develop a comprehensive definition of cultural narrative, framing Lyotard’s small narrative as a particular case of this superordinate category and providing a viable definition for one of the most notoriously vague terms of current academic discourse. Combining the newly defined petit récit with Lyotard’s concepts of paganism and the differend, I develop the category of epistemic sphere as a means to describe and explain the epistemic fragmentation of society characteristic for the post-truth situation: by shaping the perception of reality, each foundational petit récit establishes an epistemic sphere governed by its own criteria for what is true or false, right or wrong, real or fake. In order to demonstrate its analytical validity, I then apply the concept to Donald Trump’s post-truth politics, after situating his MAGA movement within the broader context of contemporary populism.

Conceptualizing the post-truth environment as consisting of numerous epistemic spheres based on small narratives explains central features of the current social and political landscape, where the existing hegemonial discourse is being challenged by multiple alternative voices and positions. While this constellation corresponds to Jean-François Lyotard’s notion of petits récits as locally limited counter-narratives, their subversive power, originally envisioned to give voice to the oppressed, has been usurped by the political right. Furthermore, since each sphere establishes its own epistemic criteria, their respective concepts of truth are separated by epistemic differends: the inhabitants of different epistemic spheres do not just disagree on what is true in a specific situation, but on what truth is on a conceptual level. Thus, post-truth calls into question the principle of a universal epistemic foundation of discourse: the implicit assumption that knowledge is different from belief, and that truthfulness is a viable standard. This epistemic contract allows for the constructive exchange of ideas, constituting the foundation not only of the democratic process but of the social fabric itself: by undermining the epistemic contract, post-truth poses a threat to democratic societies all over the world.