There is no question that Kenneth Burke has made an immeasurable contribution to the field of communication with his theory of Dramatism. Various researchers have praised Burke in the following terms: "He has become the most profound student of rhetoric now writing in America" (Nichols, 1952, p. 331); "Kenneth Burke is more than a single intellectual worker; he is the ore for a scholarly industry" (Brummett, 1993, p. xi); "Few critics have revealed the scope, imagination, insights, and dazzling concern for symbol using which Kenneth Burke possesses" (Chesebro, 1993, p. xii); and in 1981, the New York Times recognized Burke as a leading American critic, saying he was "the strongest living representative of the American critical tradition, and perhaps the largest single source of that tradition since its founder, Ralph Waldo Emerson" (cited in Chesebro, 1993, p. xi). Burke's work is widely praised and frequently cited. In fact, the National Communication Association, one of the main organizations for communication teachers, researchers, and professionals, has an entire division devoted to Burkean criticism. Several of the regional associations also have interest groups that focus on Burkean analysis. No other single theorist is similarly represented in our associations.

Yet, a few criticisms of Burke's theory have appeared and warrant our attention here. Some critics complain that Burke is too unclear and obtuse. Dramatism is seen by some as overly complex and confusing (Foss, Foss, & Trapp, 1991). Even proponents of Burke acknowledge that he is difficult to read. Marie Hochmuth Nichols concluded her 1952 essay on Burke's Dramatistic Theory of Rhetoric by saying:

Burke is difficult and often confusing. He cannot be understood by casual reading of his various volumes. In part the difficulty arises from the numerous vocabularies he employs. His words in isolation are usually simple enough, but he often uses them in new contexts. To read one of his volumes independently, without regard to the chronology of publication, makes the problem of comprehension even more difficult because of the specialized meaning attached to various words and phrases. (p. 330)

However, Nichols also provides a rebuttal to some of these criticisms by concluding that some of the difficulty arises from "the compactness of his writing, the uniqueness of his organizational patterns, the penetration of his thought, and the breadth of his endeavor" (p. 330). In other words, Burke is a genius and worth the effort it requires to understand his original thinking. When a student is diligent, Burke's theory repays the hard work with many rewards.

Somewhat related to the above criticism is the idea that Dramatism is too wide in scope. Burke's goal is no less than to explain the whole of human experience with symbolic interaction. This is an extremely broad and ambitious goal, and some critics believe it renders the theory too broad to be meaningful. When you contrast Dramatism with a theory like Uncertainty Reduction Theory, which we discussed in Chapter 9, you can see the two extremes of theoretical scope. URT seeks to explain the first few minutes of an initial encounter between strangers. Dramatism encompasses all human symbolic interaction. Some critics might suggest that when a theory attempts such a lofty goal it is doomed to be overly complex and obtuse. Whether or not you see the range of Dramatism's goal as a weakness is somewhat subjective. Obviously, for Burke and many who followed him, the wide scope of Dramatism is part of its appeal.

A final critique, advanced by Celeste Condit (1992) in her essay titled "Post-Burke: Transcending the Sub-Stance of Dramatism," involves several considerations of what is omitted in Dramatism. In this essay, Condit does not so much criticize Dramatism as suggest areas that Burke left undeveloped and that should be used as starting points for moving post-Burke. She highlights at least two contexts that require extension and modification in the theory: gender and culture. Condit observes that although Burke was supportive of feminism, his support came mainly in the form of including women under the sign of "man." She notes that given the historical context in which Burke wrote, his support for women was not inconsequential. Many writers in Burke's generation completely ignored women, so Burke was making a contribution by including women at all. Condit maintains, however, that today the scene has altered, and it is inappropriate to subsume women under the word man. Here Condit is talking both about the use of the generic "man" to represent all people and about our ability as a society to begin to think in new ways about sex and gender.

As Condit notes, "We must extend our language beyond duality to a broad 'humanity' and to 'human beings,' discovering ways to speak that emphasize human plurality" (1992, p. 351). Condit says the definition of Man that Burke provides, which we discussed earlier in the chapter, is not adequate to include Woman. She recasts the definition from the perspective of a radical feminist who would see the following as descriptive of Man's woman:

Woman is
the symbol-receiving (hearing, passive) animal
inventor of nothing (moralized by priests and saints)
submerged in her natural conditions by instruments of man's making
goaded at the bottom of hierarchy (moved to a sense of orderliness)
and rotted by perfection. (p. 351)

Then she recasts the definition to move beyond an essentialism defining men and women as opposite to each other and essentially the same as others of the same sex:

People are
players with symbols
inventors of the negative and the possibility of morality
grown from their natural condition by tools of their collective making
trapped between hierarchy and equality (moved constantly to reorder)
neither rotten nor perfect, but now and again lunging down both paths.
(p. 352)

Condit's argument is simply that Burke's approach needs to be broadened to include women and to move past a focus on one sex or the other to be truly inclusive of both. But she feels that merely broadening the language of "man/his" to include "people/their" will not in itself be sufficient to challenge the hold that language exerts as a terministic screen against women in the United States. We need to change both our language and our thinking about women, men, gender, and inclusivity for significant progress to occur.

Condit also suggests that Burke emphasizes universality among cultures at the expense of particularity. For Condit, this is especially the case in the matter of Burke's contention that victimage is a transcultural experience—a method for purging guilt in all cultures. She argues that cultures other than Western Christian ones (from which Burke draws almost exclusively) might not see victimage as the dominant motive for human conduct. For example, Buddhism might provide different motives than Christianity does. Further, if we examine trickster tales from the Native American culture or African American versions we might see victimage characterized in a strikingly different fashion from what Burke describes. The trickster is in a low power position, relative to the rest of the society, but is able to triumph through wits and cleverness. The trickster is not a victim in the Christian sense that we see in Dramatism; rather, the trickster emerges victorious by turning the rules of the system against those in power.

In sum, Condit's critique does not deny the enormous contribution made by Burke's theory. Instead, she simply suggests some extensions and modifications for improving the theory. Thus, there is general consensus that Burke's theory provides us with imaginative and innovative insights into human motives and interaction. Dramatism provides us with a theory that works with the big picture. It allows an analysis of human motivations and behavior, and its focus on language as the critical symbol system makes it especially attractive to communication researchers.