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When the story changes what comes next
Every Tuesday, The Productive Disruptive delivers storytelling science, message makeovers, cultural commentary, and a little rebellious hope for anyone still stubborn enough to believe communication can change the world.
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Previously on Productive Disruptive…
We met the contamination narrative last week:
Something good happens. Then something changes. And suddenly, what came before means something different.
Good → bad.
This week, we’re flipping the direction.
What happens when a story starts with suffering, loss, harm, or some seriously difficult circumstances…
…and something better becomes possible afterward?
Enter: the redemption narrative.
The research I shared last week looked at how people tell stories about their own lives.
Researchers identified redemption when a clearly difficult experience either changed into something positive or eventually produced a positive outcome.
Something key to note, the positive outcome didn’t have to somehow outweigh what previously happened.
I linked the paper again here in case this is your first time joining us(in the Story Science section)
Borrowing that same story shape but I’m gonna zoom a smidge.
Because public health has these stories too.
Think about HIV/AIDS.
The early years of the epidemic in the 80s.
People were getting sick and dying.
There were limited treatment options.
Fear and misinformation spread quickly.
And stigma added even more harm to people already navigating a health crisis.
Stigma can affect whether people seek care, disclose illness, or feel safe accessing support. It also tends to hit people with less power the hardest.
Then the possibilities began to change.
Communities organized.
Activists pushed institutions to move faster.
Research advanced.
Treatment improved.
Today, effective antiretroviral treatment(ART) has completely changed what living with HIV can look like.
Someone can receive an HIV diagnosis and still live a long, healthy, full life.
That is one hell of a turn.
But this is where redemption stories could potentially get a little too tidy.
Because progress doesn’t erase what happened before it.
It doesn’t erase the people who died.
It doesn’t erase stigma.
It doesn’t erase unequal access to care.
And it definitely doesn’t mean the suffering somehow became worthwhile because something better eventually followed it.
Redemption does not require resolution.
Something can genuinely improve while some of the original harm, inequity, or unfinished work remains.
That’s especially important when we take a narrative structure originally studied in individual life stories and apply it to communities, populations, or systems.
So when you’re working with a redemption story, ask yourself two questions:
What changed for the better?
What remains true despite that progress?
Those two questions let you keep the hope and keep the context.
Sometimes the redemption is simply in what became possible next.
🧠 Story Science Side Note: Some redemption stories do more than move from hardship toward something better.
In the research, especially strong redemption accounts sometimes included increased agency, stronger connection with others, or a deeper sense of meaning.
It can change what people believe they can do, who they feel connected to, or how they understand what happened.
📝 Message Makeover:
Before:
HIV is now manageable thanks to modern medicine.
After:
Treatment transformed what an HIV diagnosis can mean for many people, even as stigma, inequity, and access gaps remain.
The first version gives us progress, a redeeming quality.
The second gives us progress without pretending the work is finished.
🛠️ The PHacilitator’s Corner:
Are you ending too neatly?
Take a success story you’re working on.
A recovery.
A policy win.
A community victory.
A person who “beat the odds.”
Now ask:
What changed for the better?
What remains true despite that progress?
If your ending celebrates the win but makes the barrier disappear, there may still be more story to tell.
Wishing I could be OOO