That you’ve heard of a train derailment in Ohio is a testament to the power of a conspiracy theory. Otherwise, last month’s incident was just one of the four that occur on an average day in the US.
Some Republicans, however, contend that a train going off the tracks in East Palestine was proof of a left-wing conspiracy against poor, conservative White people. (No word yet on the “motivations” for another Ohio derailment last weekend, however.)
Such claims disregard the amount of work – all kept secret – that would be needed for nefarious Biden supporters to compel a private company to derail their own train, for instance. They also ignore the fact such derailments are not uncommon, occurring in Blue states and Red states alike. Likewise, they fail to provide a motive for such an action against certain Americans.
The arguments make no sense, but do serve as wishful thinking in the culture wars: another reason to hate woke liberals.
- Advertisement -
Americans are particularly prone to conspiracy theories – about half the population believe in them to some extent. Many are the harmless kind some of us share in, the likes of believing Elvis is still alive, in Kalamazoo or otherwise, or that Jim Morrison remains out there, living as Mr. Mojo Risin’.
Other conspiracies have more sinister implications, however. Belief an election was stolen prompts some to attempt an insurrection. Or to storm into a Washington pizzeria looking for non-existent abducted children in the non-existent basement.
And we shouldn’t forget the large number of conspiracies attached to the COVID-19 crisis, from the injection of tiny transmitters to the precursor of a New World Order.
Belief in such conspiracies is nothing new. They can be traced back at least a couple of thousand years. Psychologists today labour to figure out the enduring appeal.
“Conspiracy theories enable an alternative reality in which perceivers (a) can defend a fragile ego by perceiving themselves and their groups as important, (b) can rationalize any of their beliefs and actions as legitimate, and (c) are entertained through the opportunity to uncover a mystery in an exciting tale. These are short-term benefits, however, suggesting that conspiracy theories provide people with a form of instant gratification,” writes Jan-Willem van Prooijen of Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam in a recent edition of Current Opinion in Psychology.
That conspiracies have that kind of appeal to one’s sense of self make them enduring. It’s difficult to get true believers to change their minds, even in the face of overwhelming evidence.
People wedded to conspiracy theories double down when confronted with the truth, claiming the preponderance of evidence is just further proof of a conspiracy to cover up what’s “really” going on.
Such stances in turn fuel the anti-science and anti-elite sentiments we see today.
“What that means is that any evidence against a conspiracy theory is reinterpreted as evidence in favour of it,” University of Bristol professor of psychology Stephan Lewandowsky told the BBC of the phenomenon. He notes that it can be comforting to believe some cabal is behind the seemingly random goings-on in the world.
“Believing in conspiracy theories and being suspicious about the actions of others is in some ways quite an adaptive thing to do. We don’t necessarily want to trust everybody and trust everything that’s happening around us. And so they have always been with us and to some extent, people are all, I guess you could call everybody a conspiracy theorist if you want to use that term at one point or another,” Karen Douglas, a professor of social psychology at the University of Kent in the UK, told the American Psychological Association in an interview.
“People have always believed in conspiracy theories. As far back as we can remember, people have been having these conspiracy beliefs and having these suspicions about the actions of hostile collectives of individuals. This is just the way that we are wired up to some degree.”
Those who buy in to conspiracy theories can see themselves as in the know, part of a small group of insiders privy to what’s really going on. That’s a powerful psychological force in and of itself, experts say, but gains extra power when the “knowledge” can be used in the partisan battle of politics. Again, that’s especially true among our neighbours to the south.
Conspiracy theories and polarization are major issues south of the border. Canada is in better shape on that front, but there’s growing distrust of those in authority, particularly governments.
That was true prior to the pandemic, and the host of issues that arose subsequently quickly eroded what was already a falling level. A 2019 OECD study, for instance, found just 45 per cent of citizens trusted their governments. Today, trust in government is deteriorating in many OECD countries, with the organization noting that a lack of trust compromises the willingness of citizens and business to respond to public policies and contribute to a sustainable economic recovery.
The economic recovery angle is important. On a macro level, much of the distrust in government and business here can be traced to decades of economic decline – Canadians are less well off, facing stagnant and falling wages in the face of large increases in housing prices and, now, widespread inflation driving up the cost of living.
We’ve been embroiled in decades of declining real incomes and the loss of good jobs. Workers find themselves in precarious part-time or self-employed positions. For many of those lucky enough to find full-time jobs, compensation levels are falling. The prospects for a better future are fading.
The dimming outlook is not lost on people, some of whom have turned to alternative facts and theories to “make sense” of it all.
People who are happy with the conditions under which they live – economically and socially – have far fewer issues that require “rationalizing” via conspiracy theories. Right now, trains aren’t the only thing going off the rails.