the evolution of conspiracy theories
“I don’t believe in Helen Keller.”
That’s what a friend of mine mentioned over dinner one night, out with a group of us. I laughed, assuming it was a joke. Helen Keller wasn’t Santa Claus — we have books she wrote and sold, videos she starred in, people who raised her or taught her or met her later in life. She met and befriended multiple presidents! How do you not believe in a person?
She wasn’t joking. Several of our friends nodded along as she casually denied how a blind, deaf woman could possibly learn language or write books, let alone fly a plane.
I stopped laughing. I looked around, locking eyes with my friends in the hopes of catching some similarly confused stares, some commiserating look I could share, as if to say, “What on Earth are they talking about?”
None came. At that moment, I was suddenly reminded of every crack conspiracy, every story of baby thieves and fake science and lizard people that looked innocent, if bizarre, on the outside, but hid disgust and prejudice just underneath the surface.
Many conspiracies look harmless. “Avril Lavigne died and was replaced by a clone years ago” is a bizarre thing to think, but there are worse things to believe, right?
Unfortunately, a belief in any conspiracy theory is strongly associated with other extremist views: not only science denial and inaction, but also racism, anti-Semitism, and an overall increase in prejudice, aggression, and violence.
In addition, these beliefs are more common than you might expect. While conspiracy theories in general have been around for centuries, we are firmly in what some have called its “golden age”.
In June 2022, the anonymous leader of the infamous QAnon conspiracy group returned online for the first time in over a year. QAnon tends to fervently support Donald Trump, a man who “made conspiracy theories… his political brand”. Even now, the idea of a secret group of pedophiles or bankers or Satanists has remained rooted in modern right-wing talking points, and used to justify everything from transphobia to racism to storming the Capitol itself.
Here are some quick conspiracy statistics:
The “Pizzagate” conspiracy theory claims that Hillary Clinton and a group of elites run a child sex ring out of a pizzeria in Washington, DC. A Public Policy Polling survey found that 14% of Trump supporters believed this conspiracy, with another 32% uncertain.
One in five Americans believe “climate change is a hoax”.
Another study found that 24% of responders agreed with the statement that former President Barack Obama was not born in the United States.
That study also found that about 19% of respondents believe that billionaire George Soros is part of a secret plot to destabilize the U.S. government and take over the world.
11% of Americans believe that the moon landing was faked.
If conspiracy theories are so bad, why does anyone believe them?
There are many reasons why people might believe in conspiracy theories, but most explanations boil down to one of these three needs:
a need for “understanding and consistency” (epistemic need)
a need for safety and control (existential need)
a need for belonging or uniqueness (social need)
Epistemic need: seeking understanding
Conspiracies breed most in times of political unrest or uncertainty. They often arise as a coping mechanism; a way to feel like the chaotic and confusing world is in fact consistent and comprehensible, that things happen for a reason.
Even if these reasons are clearly negative, it can make people feel better about tragedies like the Sandy Hook massacre or 9/11 by reasoning that they were the result of a conspiracy: perhaps that it was faked entirely, or planned from the inside. In this explanation, conspiracy theories make the believers feel like the universe is consistent and stable, with a clear-cut enemy that can be fought and defeated.
There are a few variables that lead to this line of reasoning. Lower educational status, low analytical abilities, and low tolerance for uncertainty can all contribute to a person’s willingness to turn to conspiracy theories to explain confusing or distressing events. Pattern-seeking behavior, a belief in paranormal activity, and the “need for cognitive closure,” especially for large-scale events, can also factor into a person’s tendency toward conspiracy theory.
Conflicting information and unexplained events are especially common sources of conspiracy theories. People want to understand the world around them, and conspiracy theories are a way for many people to achieve that certainty.
Existential need: seeking control
Other people turn to conspiracies for a sense of security and control. Feelings of disempowerment (social, political, or psychological) or anxiety can lead people to believe in conspiracy theories in order to feel safe, especially in the face of unstoppable or unpredictable events.
While research has suggested existential motivations for the creation and belief in conspiracy theories, it has shown minimal evidence that they actually satisfy this need. In reality, a belief in conspiracy theories can make people less likely to engage in political actions. They are less likely to pursue even mainstream political action, such as voting and party politics, that could boost their autonomy in the long run.
So even though conspiracy theories may develop as a way for believers to feel in control in the short term, it may actually further reduce empowerment and control in the long term.
Social need: seeking validation
People might also start believing in conspiracy theories for social reasons. Specifically, the need to feel unique or superior, even (or especially) in the face of social ostracism.
These people are always the “heroes” of the story, always the holy figure leading the charges against the “enemy”, whether that’s on the other side of the church, the courtroom, or the Congress floor.
Maybe they feel defensive over a political issue that’s failing. Maybe they’re socioeconomically disadvantaged. Maybe they just want an external force to blame their struggles on. One way or another, this believer wants to improve their self-perception by making themselves out to be the underdog, the beleaguered main character, if not outright the hero of the story. Unsurprisingly, these beliefs are strongly linked to narcissism and social ostracism.
By valorizing their struggles like this, this type of believer can maintain their improved sense of self-image even in the face of disbelief, countering evidence, and social disdain. If anything, such reactions only strengthen their beliefs, cementing their identity as the persecuted chosen one (or group) telling the “truths” that nobody else seems to understand.
These theories do not ameliorate these feelings of isolation, however, and in fact generally worsen them. The characteristic distrust and negativity of conspiracy theories only make their believers more likely to be ostracized, becoming “not only a symptom but also a cause” of such alienation.
The real impact
All three of these explanations (which are not mutually exclusive!) present conspiracy theories as a coping mechanism: for uncertainty, anxiety, or struggle. “Classic” conspiracy theories claim that things are somehow not all that they seem. They find unexplained phenomena or events, gather evidence, and piece it together into an unofficial story: Epstein didn’t kill himself, the moon landing was faked, and so on.
These days, we don’t even need evidence to make a conspiracy. This “new conspiracism” has no need for truth. We’re not connecting the dots with red string, we’re just drawing pictures on the wall in red crayon!
Sheer repetition and bald-faced lies (sorry, “alternative facts”) are all you need to assert that, say, Hillary Clinton runs a child sex ring out of a DC pizzeria.
In an era when religion is at record lows, I find that all three of these explanations for conspiracy theories dovetail neatly into another major piece of right-wing extremism: religion. Far right, conservative Christianity is tightly interwoven with these fearmongering tactics; simplifying the world into an easy binary: good versus evil, us versus them, no exceptions. Sometimes we question how seemingly intelligent and critically-thinking people can fall into conspiracy theories, and the answer is deceptively simple: they make life easy.
It would be great if we could boil the world down into absolutes, where the ‘other side’ was not just wrong, but evil, always looking to commit atrocities and destroy your way of life in any possible way. You could justify anything, if it meant fighting that good fight for another day.
But that’s not how the world is.
No one is evil, and nothing in life is black-and-white.
Conspiracy theories have always had real-world impact, but the modern “golden age” has fully distanced itself from even basic journalistic integrity. The idea that COVID-19 was a hoax from the Chinese government, that vaccines cause autism, that the Holocaust was faked, et cetera– I wish I could laugh at them!
But instead, there is a genuinely terrifying number of the American population that believes them. And not only believes them, but are willing to act on them. The Pizzagate shooting in DC, the modern measles and mumps outbreaks, the Jan. 6 riots, and the violent spike in anti-Asian sentiment during the pandemic are just a few recent examples of how modern conspiracy theories impact real people. That’s not even including QAnon.
What we can do
So, clearly something needs to be done. But what?
Well, we know one thing that doesn’t work: the facts. Much like a particularly stubborn briar, conspiracy theorists will only dig in deeper the more you handle them– regardless of what countering evidence is presented, or even the odds of any conspiracy being successful.
The problem is twofold. First, because there is often some kernel of truth to even the craziest conspiracy. There really is a group of people who seem above the law, there really is pedophilia and violence and all kinds of other dangers.
Second, because of their root. Conspiracies aren’t made from cold logic and suspicion; they’re rooted in emotion, and emotional maturity is needed to undo them. Conspiracy theorists have no shortage of facts, so ighting fire with fire isn’t the way to go.
The world of a conspiracy theorist is scary, yet simple. It tells you there are terrible dangers that you need to defeat, that nobody else even knows about, but it also tells you that you are smart, that you are special, that you are God’s chosen people meant to drive out the wicked and cleanse your country for once and for all.
This self-delusion feels good– of course it does! — and is thus extremely difficult to combat once rooted. No one wants to go back to feeling like an isolated, ostracized member of regular society when they could be an epic hero fighting an invisible evil.
If we want change, if we want to take back our autonomy or understand the world or make progress as a society, we can’t take shortcuts through a conspiracy.
We have to be patient, to prove the truth with facts and evidence, to research and learn about the subjects of our suspicion. We have to trade our cork boards and string for Occam’s Razor– to find not the most exciting interpretation of the facts, but the most likely.
