The psychology of conspiracy theories
Exploring the sociopsychological motives behind believing ‘alternative’ narratives.
5G telecoms caused Covid-19. A Gates-led plot to implant the entire human population with digital microchips. Trump’s struggle against a sophisticated network of celebrity sex traffickers. The CCP-engineered virus escaped from the Wuhan Institute of Virology lab and into the neighbouring seafood market. The pandemic is part of the ‘great reset’ to impose Communism on western liberal democracies. The January 6th Capitol insurrection was a false-flag operation by Antifa. These are just a few of the conspiracy theories - explanations that refer to a clandestine but immensely powerful group manipulating world events - that have had fact-checkers working overtime. In recent years, speculative beliefs have overwhelmed social media platforms and infiltrated the dinner table, splitting us into two derisively-designated camps: the ‘sheep’ and the ‘loonies’. Each flaunt their ideological allegiances with a sneer of superiority, and any belief opposing your own is a ‘conspiracy theory’. But, where’s it all taking us? Conspiracy theories have an old and complicated history; partisan attachments are either accentuated or eroded, social groups overlap in pursuit of the ‘truth’, and you probably don’t know anyone who doesn’t believe in at least a couple. Given their prevalence in human history, is it reasonable, or even effective, to dismiss all conspiracy theory belief as irrational fringe paranoia? We will explore the three important sociopsychological motives behind conspiracy belief that make us want to pursue “emotionally-satisfying” ‘alternative’ narratives.
A Climate of Uncertainty
Although the topic of conspiracy is a relatively new issue in historical research, it is clear that these theories pick up considerable speed in times of socio-political turbulence. Humans are hardwired to find causal explanations in order to create a stable and internally consistent framework: patterns, symbols, paranormal phenomena, ‘it’s all a sign!’. Those who are contrarian, eccentric and suspicious by nature are much more susceptible to misinformation. Frightening events only intensify this epistemic need to find an explanation, good or bad, as in doing so we reclaim some agency when we feel bound by the inexorable march of time. Official, more mundane explanations don’t hold up in the aftermath of debilitating catastrophes and a climate of anxiety: surely there must be something more? Something they’re not telling us? We demand answers proportionate to the internal storm. Conspiracy theories proliferate particularly because they posit actions that are hidden from public scrutiny, and those who try to ‘debunk’ the myths are part of the master plan to stealthily conceal, and so critique only entrenches those ideas further. It's not hard to see how the events of the past year alone have provided the optimum conditions for theories to really explode, making everyone more susceptible to misinformation. While in ordinary conditions, we might see this cynicism as fundamental to staying attuned to socio-political flaws and the conniving elite, it stops being constructive to our worldview when we allow emotions to overcome the importance of dissemination and objectivity.
Taking Back Control
Conspiracy theories seem to provide a compensatory sense of control by allowing holders of these beliefs to reject the mainstream account and feel that they are privy to a ‘hidden truth’, an exclusive lens through which malignant forces can be recognised and their threat accordingly neutralised – it is no surprise then, that conspiracy theory beliefs are intrinsically linked to lack of socio-political control or lack of psychological empowerment, and are more common among those who are scarred by traumatic experiences of discrimination, victimisation or historically oppressed, which might explain the hesitancy about being vaccinated in BAME communities, across a greater range of age groups than expected. Additionally, holders can feel unique and original in their beliefs, have a chronic need to stand out and being more informed than you. These beliefs are used to highlight an ‘unconventional’ personality, and hence are also more common in individualist countries like the U.S., compared to collectivist ones like Japan. However, conspiracy theory belief might actually diminish one’s sense of autonomy, making subscribers to far-fetched theories less likely to engage in grassroots activism and civic duties. Moreover, belief in one theory acts as a gateway to a whole load of others, making the individual feel that these malignant forces are omnipresent and dictate every aspect of our lives.
Finding a Community
Before Covid-19 made its debut on the international stage, the world was facing a crisis of loneliness and isolation despite the fact that it’s never been easier to connect with one another through social media networks and globalisation. Our quest for understanding is entwined with our human desire to belong to a group and uphold an image of morality and competency, for instance by enlisting to Trump’s army in the war against a Democrat paedophilic “deep state” ring. Conspiracy theories can be recruited to relieve a sense of guilt or shame of a disadvantaged social standing (or being on the losing side of political processes) by pointing to saboteurs and malevolent forces as the cause of these social frustrations. Conspiracy theory belief lies at the intersection of alienation, ostracisation and disenchantment with the political elite and governmental institutions, providing people with an access point to others and an entire internet community of like-minded thinkers validating a distorted worldview uncritically. Reddit forums and Facebook groups provide a round-the-clock source for self-valorisation, attributing blame for negative outcomes to powerful and unscrupulous actors. Information is measured against conformity to the tribe’s values and goals, rather than factual accuracy. Official sources of information are shunned (“MSM”) in favour of dubious sources that mirror the core group rhetoric. Members of esoteric cultural milieus with experiences of ostracism are warmly welcomed into a fatal echo chamber. The recent ban of QAnon accounts and threads on social media platforms is seen as silencing dissent, and only reaffirms the belief that ‘they’ have something to hide.
What now?
Although there is no hard evidence to suggest that conspiracy theories are circulating more now than ever before, modern history has taken them to a whole other level. They are embedded into the rhetoric of national leaders and public figures all over the world, peddling misinformation to fuel divisive politics and stoke tensions integral to their agenda. It’s no longer true to say that conspiracy theories are constrained to the lively YouTube comment section; the disaffected take to the streets, galvanised by the conspiratorial pathology of their political leaders. Debating will only entrench dangerous ideas further, especially where they’re held as core to an identity and thus especially guarded. Conspiracy theories are always there, because they adapt according to who is in power; the common denominator seems widespread political distrust, impunity at the highest echelons of society, and an all-consuming sense of disempowerment among people. There is no simple answer to reviving faith in politics, particularly where conspiracies have been uncovered by journalists and brave whistle-blowers. Rampant conspiracy theories are symptomatic of a grim public mood, as people feel backed up against the wall – and this is all across the political spectrum.
Ultimately, the solutions to dangerous conspiracy theories are not at all simple, particularly because of the interaction of many different psychological factors. At the very least, we can provide people with the skillset to determine the veracity of information they come across on the internet; it is not unreasonable for harmless people to want to make sense of the world, but the power of an open-mind is defeated if you aren’t able to critically analyse the evidence. GoViral! by Social Decision-Making Lab at Cambridge University in collaboration with the UK Cabinet Office is designed to debunk the most common Covid-19 myths. Similarly, fact-checking on social media platforms helps, but have a crippling blind spot when it comes to other languages. Moreover, in times of mass Covid disinformation, it is crucial that we work with our friends and family members to identify and share reliable sources of information, such as local guidelines, public health organisations and independent science websites like Science News, featuring qualified and peer-reviewed writers, rather than turning to poorly-relayed information on a heated Facebook group. Everyone’s confused, distrustful and anxious – let’s try and counter the disinformation with compassion and clarity!