Legitimacy is obtained when organizations act according to established norms and align with dominant values and beliefs (e.g., Meyer & Rowan, 1977; Suddaby & Greenwood, 2005), and it is largely constructed through various forms of communication. In a recent review article, Vaara, Aranda, and Etchanchu (2024) use the umbrella term discursive legitimation to label “research on how language or communication may relate to underlying assumptions about what is deemed legitimate” (p. 2). While news media have been identified as a particularly important source of what is perceived as legitimate behaviour in society (e.g., Deephouse & Suchman, 2008; Jonsson, Greve, & Fujiwara-Greve, 2009) – not least during the Covid-19 pandemic (Nyqvist & Lundgren-Henriksson, 2023) – organizations themselves also play key roles in the discursive construction of legitimacy (e.g., Svenbro & Wester, 2023). In contexts marked by crisis and uncertainty, organizations often prioritize meaning-making through communication (e.g., Christensen & Lægreid, 2020; Falkheimer, 2021; Zappettini & Rezazadah, 2024) – including, importantly, through narratives (e.g., Clementson, 2020; Heath, 2004).

What is considered legitimate organizational behavior depends on the social context and changes over time (Deephouse & Suchman, 2008). Organizational practices are highly susceptible to trends (Abrahamson, 1996), and in the still-persistent era of New Public Management (Hood, 1991), public sector organizations often follow the lead of private companies, which have long used storytelling to build brands and enhance their reputation. However, public authorities must contend with multiple – and even conflicting – goals and address the needs of various publics (Frandsen, Johansen, & Houlberg Salomonsen, 2016), which creates specific communicative conditions. As noted by Canel and Luoma-aho (2020), public sector communication “must balance the democratic communication aims of engaging citizens with organizational and institutional goals, as well as with survival in the midst of budget restrictions” (p. 1, italics in original). Aggerholm and Thomsen (2016) similarly reflect on the conflicting goals and demands that characterize legitimation processes in the public sector. In a study examining managerial discursive legitimation as a “particular mode of strategic communication”, they argue that managers in public sector organizations need to navigate between “heterogeneous discourses expressed within the organization and the discourses expressed at the political level” (Aggerholm & Thomsen, 2016, p. 195). This creates specific conditions not only for how storytelling is shaped within public sector organizations, but also for the meanings these narratives acquire in relation to their context. In other words, the democratic challenges inherent in public sector legitimation processes naturally influence how narrative legitimation unfolds in municipalities and other public authorities.

Aggerholm and Thomsen (2016) emphasize the importance of analyzing discourse at a detailed level to gain insight into how organizational legitimacy is formed, and they have advocated for an increase in research adopting this approach. Following their call, we employ multimodal discourse analysis, focusing mainly on linguistic aspects, to explore how meaning is constructed through storytelling. Our detailed linguistic analysis allows us to explore in greater depth how stories function in a municipal setting, as they convey values, often in implicit ways—values that can impact and shape individuals’ opinions and actions, as well as their perceptions of the organizations behind the stories. This means that we, to use the words of Gabriel (2015), see narratives not as “something that happens ‘inside’ a given box called organization, but as something that serves to construct the box itself” (p. 2011). This is also in line with Whittle, Vaara, and Maitlis (2023), who argue that a focus on linguistic elements and processes in organizational studies helps us to understand how discursive structures, like narratives, influence sensemaking and thereby reproduce – or transform – systems of thought.

In order to unpack narrative – a form of communication that is often black-boxed – we conduct an analysis of three municipal stories. Focusing on discursive meaning making in terms of identity and image construction as well as relationship building, our analysis is grounded in a constructivist view of language, where language use and reality are understood to exist in a dialectical relationship: Organizations are understood to be, to some extent, constituted through the stories told about them – meaning that these stories shape how the organization is perceived, thereby contributing to the formation of organizational legitimacy, or conversely, to its erosion. While extant research tends to focus on the link between stories and the construction of legitimacy, we argue that it is equally important to examine the building blocks and characteristics of the stories themselves. To address this gap, our study provides a close-up analysis of three stories, with the aim of shedding light on the nature and specificities of the narrative format.

We treat the texts we have analyzed as narratives (or stories, as we use these words interchangeably), based on the following criteria (see Rehnberg, 2014): A crucial aspect of a narrative is that it has a plot. The concept of plot can be made more accessible through Greimas’ (1966) classical actantial model, which provides a framework often used in management literature on storytelling. This model defines a narrative as consisting of a subject in search of an object, in other words, a protagonist striving to achieve a particular goal, or more succinctly: a protagonist with a project. The protagonist is typically accompanied by helpers and opposed by opponents. In addition, narratives usually include one or more characters who occupy the actantial role of recipient – that is, the one who benefits from the protagonist completing their project. Narratives are thus characterized by relations, aspirations, tensions, and contradictions, which together create a dynamic force that propels the story forward. Notably, the protagonist is not merely an agent (the presence of agents is a common criterion for identifying narratives), but a perceiving and experiencing agent with emotions (cf. Fludernik, 1996). Consequently, there is someone with whom the reader can identify.

Another essential feature of narratives is that they consist of both referential and evaluative elements (e.g., Labov, 1972), meaning that they are not merely plain reports of events. Rather, they are imbued with evaluation that serves to bring out the message and purpose of the narrative. In addition, narratives are situated in specific times and places (e.g., Baynham, 2015) – for example, in a particular municipality during a pandemic.

Narratives always involve a narrator. In this study, we use the concept of speaker roles as defined in Goffman’s (1981) participation framework. According to Goffman, a speaker may assume one, two, or all of the following roles: the principal (the one responsible for the content of the message), the author (the one who formulates the message), and the animator (the one who delivers or voices the message).

As a form of communication, narratives can serve a wide range of – and often quite different – functions. They are particularly well-suited to constructing identity, fostering relationships and community, conveying knowledge and morality, providing entertainment, and fulfilling both sense-making and aesthetic purposes (e.g., Bruner, 1986, 1990; Czarniawska, 1998; Hydén, 2008; Linde, 2009; Rothery & Stenglin, 1997). Not least, narratives are known to serve persuasive functions, especially when employed in rhetorical discourse (e.g., Lucaites & Condit, 1985). Many of these functions are linked to the frequently noted capacity of narratives, given the right conditions, to evoke engagement, emotion, and empathy, to shape attitudes, and to influence behaviour (cf. Andersen et al., 2017; Iversen, 2013).

In accordance with the narrative functions outlined above, previous research suggests that storytelling used in organizational communication – hereafter referred to as strategic storytelling – can foster organizational identification and strengthen relational ties by promoting a sense of belonging and shared identity within organizations (Linde, 2009; Salzer-Mörling, 2004). This is achieved by assigning individuals prominent roles in the stories and in the storytelling process. It is also achieved by crafting and disseminating stories that convey specific values, particularly those perceived as positive within the sociocultural context in which the organization operates and seeks to foster engagement. In and through stories, such values are not only expressed but also associated with the organization behind the story. Drawing inspiration from linguist Labov (1972), Rehnberg (2014) identifies a range of strategies for expressing values in strategic storytelling, from explicit evaluation to more implicit techniques, such as the selection of characters assigned particular roles (e.g., hero and victim), the portrayal of these characters, and the specific solutions promoted within the narrative.

Based on an understanding of narratives rooted in linguistic theory, we highlight three underlying, intertwined mechanisms on which strategic storytelling relies: The first is personification, clearly illustrated by Thorbjørnsrud and Ytreberg (2020) in their analysis of so-called human interest stories (i.e., personal stories turned into individual cases or personal exemplars). They demonstrate how organizational actors use personal experience in their quest for visibility, legitimacy, and impact. Notably, they argue that emotional stories featuring archetypical roles and appealing to basic moral instincts are particularly attractive to communicators seeking the receiver’s attention. The second mechanism concerns values. While all communicative practices and formats are value-laden to some extent, the emotionally charged storytelling format conveys values in distinctive, intrinsic, and often implicit ways, shaped in large part by the mechanism of personification. Finally, an intrinsic feature of storytelling is that a story is always told by someone, here referred to as the narrator. This aspect is fundamental to the impact of strategic storytelling, as we will demonstrate in our analysis.

The Uppsala narrative (Uppsala Municipality, 2021, April 29) is presented in writing and includes a photograph. It is part of the digital communication campaign “I have had Covid-19”, which includes three texts, each seemingly written by a resident of Uppsala. The narrators share the common factor of not belonging to a group at risk of becoming seriously ill with Covid-19; however, they have all been relatively hard hit after catching the virus. The Uppsala narrative includes a vignette in which Daniel is mentioned by name: “Daniel caught Covid in May. This is his story.” The text then continues in the first person, in what appears to be Daniel’s own words. It begins:

This introductory passage has several functions: It establishes a contrast and builds tension, but also allows for identification among those who perceive themselves as not threatened by the pandemic. In that way, the introduction can serve as a warning – there are likely several readers who believe that if they catch Covid, they will not become seriously ill. Daniel goes on to talk about the progression of his illness and his feelings and reactions to the symptoms and consequences. The story contains details that inspire empathy, for example: “It felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I was terrified.”

We then learn that six months after catching Covid, Daniel is still unable to work as a firefighter. The evaluations expressed in the story serve the main purpose of highlighting the suffering the disease has caused Daniel – which means that being healthy is indirectly portrayed as a desirable value. The values in the story are conveyed to a great extent by expressing contrasts, among them the fact that the firefighter Daniel, who normally has good physical fitness, is now left exhausted just by using the stairs. The values are also conveyed when Daniel recounts his experience of the physical symptoms (“It is as though something is pressing down hard on my chest”) and expresses his feelings, including his longing to return to his job.

The penultimate paragraph, where Daniel directly addresses his intended readers, summarizes his message:

The addressees, who are addressed in the singular second person, are most likely residents of Uppsala, as the text is published on the Uppsala Municipality website.

Finally, the text ends with a passage where Daniel is no longer the narrator:

The text does not specify who has now taken on the role of narrator, i.e., who the pronoun us refers to. However, it is reasonable to assume that this is Uppsala Municipality. The target group is re-specified, and the reader is implicitly depicted as someone who is not young. ‘Younger people’ are made out as being the ultimate target group that can be reached via the people who read the text. Readers of this text are thus invited into a circle (primarily comprising adults) engaged in reaching out to the irresponsible youth. Drawing on Daniel’s story—which appeals to the reader’s emotions and is apparently intended to create insight—the text makes a direct appeal to the reader to share the story, an action portrayed as helping to reduce the spread of infection. The use of the word together in the story’s final sentence further reinforces this invitation to join a community.

The text includes a photograph of Daniel wearing a firefighter’s uniform (see Image 1). He stands against a black background that can be interpreted as threatening, looking serious as he holds a sign that reads “I have had Covid-19”. The photograph reinforces the impression of Daniel’s story serving as a form of testimony, further emphasizing the gravity of the situation.

To summarize, the story invites the reader to identify with Daniel while simultaneously offering them the role of agent. The reader is encouraged to take action to influence the situation. The coronavirus is presented as the common enemy (the opponent), and the objective (the protagonist’s project) is to stop the spread of infection by prompting people to reflect on the gravity of the situation and protect themselves and those around them. The world constructed in and through the story is one in which we are all vulnerable, yet also one in which action enables us to seize a certain degree of power and make a difference. Meanwhile, Uppsala Municipality is implicitly portrayed as responsible but also non-authoritarian: no orders are given; instead, a plea is expressed.

The Nordanstig narrative (Nordanstig Municipality, 2020, May 5) is a video published on a municipal webpage alongside four other videos, each giving voice to one or two of the municipality’s employees, who share their own accounts of the ongoing pandemic in Nordanstig and the actions they consider necessary (Nordanstig Municipality, n.d.). It starts with a written title, summarizing its message and introducing the narrator, who is the main person in the video:

The narrator speaks naturally, in a dialect (cf. Moldenæs, 2016), and addresses the audience directly. She is wearing a tracksuit and at one stage, the camera zooms in on her loosely tied trainers (see Image 2). She stands firmly on the porch of what appears to be her home, a traditional wooden house in the countryside. On occasion, the camera pans the surroundings, which comprise fields and a river that can be assumed to be well-known to local. The front door squeaks gently and a muffled engine noise can be heard in the distance.

She speaks candidly and somewhat sternly about how provoked she feels by those aged 70 and above who are not staying at home, despite the prevailing recommendation:

She refers to herself using both I and we; by the latter pronoun, she constructs a community including the reader. In addition, she uses the third-person plural pronoun (them) to refer to those who do not follow the recommendation to stay home:

Carin Walldin backs up her words and makes her own opinion known. She is the one who feels provoked. She is the one who has stayed home for three and a half weeks, and she gives examples of what people can do during quarantine by explaining what she does; she reads and listens to audiobooks, calls friends and acquaintances, goes for walks – and cleans. “My home is incredibly clean now”, she says, interrupting herself with a laugh, “Well, somewhat at least.” Here, she expresses a certain amount of self-distance, and the story develops an element of humour.

She admits that staying home every day is not enjoyable. This expresses her sympathy while also enabling more viewers to identify with her; she is not simply happy and satisfied, the stay-indoors rule is also a struggle for her at times. However, feeling bored is not an acceptable reason to flout the recommendations. At the end of the video, written advice aimed directly at residents aged 70 and above is displayed. For example, those who feel lonely are encouraged to call a special hotline for elderly people, and this advice is formulated as a direct appeal to the elderly themselves, addressed with the second-person singular pronoun (the Swedish du): “Call Äldrelinjen [a hotline for elderly people] 020-22 22 23 if you feel lonely” (see Image 3). This text is accompanied by the municipality’s logo.

The video is an indirect appeal in the form of a personal account, and the overall value promoted in and through the account is compliance (with the current expert recommendations). Thanks to the chair of the municipal council being over 70 and practising what she preaches, she can be portrayed as a role model and even as a stern one. However, distinguishing between the municipality as an institutional actor and Carin Walldin as an individual actor is difficult, since in her role as chair of the council she not only represents but also embodies the municipality: Is it Carin Walldin, for example, who is provoked by those who do not follow the expert recommendations, or is it the municipality?

The protagonist’s project in this story is to get people aged 70 and above to stay home. While the coronavirus is an implicit opponent ‘those who do not comply with the recommendations’ are clearly singled out as explicit opponents. However, it is unclear who assumes the actantial role of recipient; no explicit mention is made of whether it is the elderly people themselves or somebody else (such as society or healthcare) who are expected to benefit from elderly people staying home.

The elderly residents of Nordanstig are evidently the intended primary audience, since the video was published on the municipality’s website and the written advice at the end of the video addresses them directly. Those addressed are invited to identify with their down-to-earth, local resident chair of the municipal council who radiates authenticity and sincerity, someone who is straight to the point, concise, humorous, and empathetic. In the video, local residents are also tied to a larger national community led by experts, the Government, and the king.

In summary, in and through the story, the elderly are portrayed as both victims and agents. The responsible 70-plussers are those who constitute the narrative’s we, with the story inviting the addressees into this community. The story can be viewed as an attempt to inspire determination and endurance among this target group by offering a simultaneously authoritative and unpretentious role model who both warns and advises. As almost nothing is said explicitly about the municipality, the image of the municipality constructed in and through this narrative largely coincides with the image of the municipal representative Carin Walldin. Further, the moving footage of the plain wooden houses and the rural landscape contributes to creating an image of the municipality as a traditional, down-to-earth community, closely connected to nature and rooted in simplicity and authenticity. Finally, the text at the end of the video presents the municipality (represented by its logo) as caring, familiar, and responsible towards older residents.

The Varberg narrative (Varberg Municipality, 2021, April 23), titled “Like entering a burning building”, is structured as an interview with three healthcare workers at a sheltered housing facility. It is part of the digital “Coronavirus Archive”, which includes 50 labelled stories dated from 2020 to 2022 (Varberg Municipality, n.d.). The majority of these texts are based on interviews with employees working in different sections of the municipality. The protagonists in the Varberg narrative talk about how afraid they have been during the pandemic, and how much they have had to fight – and that things are not over yet. The photograph included in the text (see Image 4) clearly illustrates the fact that the pandemic is ongoing. The main people in the story are depicted in their work uniforms, wearing the “Covid visor” and keeping a safe distance from each other. In the background, a wall is visible, presumably part of the facility where they work.

The text structure is similar to that of a traditional newspaper article; it includes a main heading, several intermediate headings (some of them made up of quotes), and a preamble, and the body text is interspersed with quotes from those interviewed. The text is unsigned, but as it is published on the municipality’s website, the reasonable conclusion is that a municipality communications officer has written it. While the full names of those interviewed are included in the preamble, they are referred to only by their first names in the rest of the text, creating a sense of intimacy.

Unlike the other two texts, this text recounts aspects of the municipality’s daily operations, as those interviewed – the protagonists – talk about their work. Still, the Varberg narrative also has a personal quality, bringing details to life and conveying strong emotional expression. For example, the reader is told how Jessica’s eyes “squint with laughter above her face mask” when she talks about how she has become so accustomed to wearing protective equipment that it almost feels strange to go without it outside of work. This laughter contrasts with the dark feelings that are then expressed, both directly and through comparisons, such as in the following quote from Carina:

Similar to the other analyzed texts, this one also demonstrates how storytelling can create a sense of intimacy with the reader – and consequently help establish trust. To begin with, intimacy and recognition are fostered through relatable details in the text. The following quote is one example:

Many readers no doubt share the same loss of these “small, regular things”, and are therefore able to feel a sense of closeness and solidarity with Carina and her colleagues. This, in turn, easily creates a trust that makes other statements in the text – including those about the municipality – appear more credible than they otherwise would have.

The text also creates meaning by giving prominence to a clarification provided by the protagonists:

The utterances quoted above indicate the presence of a narrative in legacy media that Jessica and Carolin aim to correct. Here, meaning is constructed by embedding a discrete element within a particular contextual framing: stories are not simply contextualized but positioned within a specific context shaped by the storyteller’s perspective. That perspective, in turn, is formed by the values the storyteller seeks – and is situated – to express in the given storytelling situation. In this case, these are values that contribute to a more favourable portrayal of coronavirus-related healthcare in Varberg. By foregrounding the protagonists’ attempt to correct the media narrative, the text invites the readers to recalibrate their expectations and to attribute greater credibility to the protagonists’ account – and, by extension to statements concerning the municipality.

The story also includes explicit evaluation – in the form of quotes – that portray the municipality in an advantageous way:

As in the other two example stories, both the municipality and the individuals in this story share the role of protagonist. As staff members, Carolin and her colleagues are even part of the municipal organization. Nevertheless, it is crucial to note that Carolin and the municipality are not one and the same – if they were, the quotes above would amount to self-praise. Accordingly, these direct words of praise for the municipality could hardly have been published on the municipality’s website had they not been voiced by an individual.

As this story is published on the municipality’s website, we can assume that it is primarily aimed at residents of Varberg. This likely includes both the municipality’s employees (who may feel encouraged and find the protagonists’ experiences relatable) and other residents (who may need to be informed that the media narrative does not capture the full picture).

In summary, this text portrays Carina, Jessica, and Carolin as heroes in the fight against the coronavirus. The municipality’s safety team and occupational health service are likewise portrayed as helpers. No direct appeal is made to the readers. Still, a close-at-hand interpretation is that they are implicitly cast as helpers in the fight against the coronavirus – though only indirectly, insofar as they can support the municipality’s employees by displaying understanding and exercising caution towards media reporting.

The world created in and through the story is one where empathetic municipal employees are suffering, fighting, and supporting each other – always with the municipality’s residents in mind. It is a world in which the municipality is good, although it occasionally faces criticism that produces a distorted picture. And while the employees’ working situation is marked by strain and constant pressure, they continue to fight tirelessly.

Individuals are assigned prominent roles, as both protagonists and narrators, in all three stories analyzed. This aligns with earlier research showing that personification is an essential feature of strategic storytelling, facilitating continuous evaluation and a shared narratorship (Rehnberg, 2014). Indeed, readers more readily identify with an individual than with a faceless, distant authority. It is also generally easier for people to form relationships with individuals than with impersonal institutions.

However, this kind of personification also has potential downsides: while individuals are given prominence and voice in strategic stories, they are also embedded in organizational processes that may turn them into exemplars for reasons beyond their individual motives (Thorbjørnsrud & Ytreberg, 2020). Nonetheless, personification remains central to organizational storytelling and underpins the two other storytelling mechanisms examined in our analysis, as the following discussion outlines. In addition, personification inherently reflects qualities highly valued in contemporary society, such as ‘individuality’, ‘informality’, and ‘identity construction’ (e.g., Giddens, 1991). These elements contribute to shaping specific perceptions of the municipalities behind the stories, perceptions that can ultimately serve as part of the construction of organizational legitimacy.

One way in which personification relates to values in strategic storytelling is that the characteristics of the protagonist are regularly transferred to the municipality behind the story. For example, in the Varberg narrative, the brave, empathic, and hardworking employees are portrayed as representing and personifying the municipality.

As demonstrated in our analysis, values are closely associated not only with the protagonists but also with the individual narrators (in all three cases, these two roles intersect, even if that is not necessarily the case in storytelling more broadly). Values are conveyed explicitly by all narrators, while also being implicitly embedded within the narratives. The narrators’ choice of words, their appearance, and the content of their utterances reflect who they are, and the values they represent may “rub off” on the municipality, given that all the narrators serve as deputy narrators for the organizations (see further below).

Additionally, the semiotic resources and the material design of the narratives also express and convey values that imprint on the municipality. Compared to the (seemingly) authentic and “everyday” photographs included in the narratives from Nordanstig and Varberg, the stylized portrait of Daniel from Uppsala conveys rather different values—for example, ‘stylishness’, ‘design’ and ‘drama’. The ways in which images are used – including their visual style, aesthetic choices, and symbolic design – contribute to the construction of distinct forms of organizational identity, thereby shaping the conditions under which discursive legitimacy may be achieved in different ways.

Further, images of the organizations are created simply by the fact that the municipalities assume the role of storytelling actors. More specifically, the mere act of a public authority engaging in storytelling can be considered remarkable in itself, thereby contributing to the construction of a particular image of the organization (cf. Rehnberg, 2014). This process, encapsulated in the concept of provenance (Kress & Van Leeuwen, 2001), can be understood as involving two interrelated dynamics: First, narrative is traditionally associated with ancient, mythical, and authentic forms of communication, often linked to intimate, everyday situations – like conversations between old friends sharing memories and experiences. In other words, narrative as a communicative form is imbued with inherent values; according to Thorbjørnsrud and Ytreberg (2020, p. 1097), a dominant idea of our time is that sharing of first-hand experiences – particularly in relation to health and illness – is considered a moral and existential good. Moreover, the relationship typically established between a storyteller and a listener differs significantly from that between a municipality and a resident reading a rather dull municipal information leaflet. Second, when narratives are employed in public sector communication, they also evoke a different set of values, such as ‘innovation’, ‘novelty’, and ‘a forward-looking spirit’. This is due to the provenance of storytelling as a method – namely, that strategic storytelling is imported from the corporate world. In line with this, the Coronavirus Archive of Varberg received positive attention from both local media (Zurman, 2021) and a digital newsletter from the Swedish Communication Association (Sveriges Kommunikatörer, 2021).

As mentioned above, the individual narrators serve as deputy narrators for the organizations. In this role, they are more restricted in what they can say compared to when speaking as private individuals in a personal context. Nevertheless, the situation is, in some respects, characterized by a greater freedom of expression than when the municipality is the sole communicator, which is the norm in traditional public communication. For example, the employees in the Varberg narrative are in a position that makes it legitimate to praise the municipality.

The individual narrators’ “speaking rights” rest on the fact that they speak from experience that is both personal and firsthand, which in turn strengthens their credibility and narrative authority. While conveying their personal narratives, these individuals simultaneously make it possible for the municipalities to communicate their messages – and to do so in a more subtle manner, as the focus remains on the individual narrators. This, we argue, is one of the affordances (Björkvall, 2018; Gibson, 1977) of narratives when used in strategic communication. From the readers’ perspective, however, this affordance may constitute a pitfall, as it can blur – or even obscure – the actual sender of the messages.

This aspect of strategic storytelling can be further elucidated through Goffman’s (1981) concept of speaker roles. In the Nordanstig narrative, Carin Walldin is clearly the speaker. In Goffman’s terms, she functions as both the animator and the author, as the wording appears to be her own, given its natural, conversational tone. Similarly, Daniel, who is the central figure in the Uppsala narrative, can be seen as both animator and author of the main part of the story, given its first-person rendering. In the case of Varberg, the three employees serve as animators and authors in the direct quotations, whereas the speaker for the remainder of the text is presumably a municipal communications officer.

However, in all three stories, the principal speaker role is shared between the individual, personal narrator, whom the reader “meets”, and the municipality, which is responsible for and has shaped the communication initiative. In line with Rehnberg (2014), we suggest that this shared narratorship – more specifically, a shared “principalship” – plays a crucial role when storytelling is used in strategic communication; it is essential for linking the story to the organization.

One way to conceptualize this shared narratorship is to frame the individual narrator as the proximal principal – the figure encountered directly in the text – and the municipality as the ultimate principal responsible for the communication initiative. The individual narrator anchors and conveys the municipality’s message. The story format brings the individual narrator to the fore, even though the municipality is arguably the ultimate sender, shaping, publishing, and using the story to communicate with employees and residents. The voices of individuals create a sense of familiarity that, in turn, lends legitimacy to what is said. When readers can relate to people, it becomes easier to trust them and their statements. This transfer of trust from the individual narrator to the municipality can occur subtly, without the reader being fully aware of it. Moreover, it is often socially more difficult to dismiss or contradict an individual’s feelings and lived experiences than to ignore a call from an anonymous, formal authority.