Why rejecting conspiracy theorists close to you just makes things worse
A close family member recently sent me links to two websites that were completely foreign to me. The email that accompanied it told me that if I listened to mainstream media, I was not getting the truth. I was shocked that this person, who was so close to me and who I loved and admired, was buying into conspiracy theories. I didn’t want to click, but I knew I had to do it.
Too many of us are receiving messages like this today as more and more Americans bypass mainstream media and buy into conspiracy theories. Distrust in mainstream media is at an all time high and social media has made spreading conspiracy theories far too easy.
One of the most common responses when someone you love or are friends with sends you these kinds of websites is to disprove the person — to send them a barrage of stories and scientific evidence that explains why the story is wrong. It was my knee jerk reaction too, leading me to compose a multi-page email. But the advice experts are giving right now is to resist this temptation. It simply doesn’t work. And when the person doesn’t change their mind in response to the evidence you send, it can be endlessly frustrating, stressful, and anxiety-inducing. How could they believe this bullshit?
All of these negative emotions lead many of us to then decide to forego talking about politics, or worse, block them on social media and cut them out of our lives altogether. This is one of the worst things we can do because it only further divides us and has the potential to push them further into the conspiracy theory community that welcomes them. If we want to create change, we have to roll up our sleeves and get ready for work.
Research has repeatedly shown that people in extremist groups tend to leave extremist groups because of relationships not “good reasons.”
If you want to read case studies that go into detail, check out Eli Saslow’s Rising Out of Hatred about Derek Black who left a life of white supremacy after his Jewish classmates spent years sharing meals and time with him. Or, listen to this podcast about how Daryl Davis, a black jazz musician, forged friendships with KKK members, eventually talking a grand dragon and many other high-ranking members into leaving the organization.
Changing my family member’s opinion was going to require that I preserve the relationship and power up on patience. The best way I could access that precious patience was going to be through understanding. I would have to figure out how she got to where she was. I deleted the email I composed and started following her footsteps. Below, I offer my journey in the hope that it provides context for understanding how people are drawn to these spaces and how easy it can be to buy into such narratives.
I began doing reading and digging through the point of entry she sent me — a website recommended by her church. Exploring this site was a pathway into an online metropolis, a sophisticated space where there is plenty to explore. The website through which I entered offered links to blogs, podcasts, and videos. News articles cited and linked to reputable academic journals, other Catholic news sites, partisan political websites, and mainstream media.
Traveling through these links provided a dizzying array of websites that all advanced a similar narrative. This was no “media silo.” It didn’t look like a self-contained space walled off from the outside world. It looked like a sprawling community.
Once one begins clicking around, the networks unfold in a seemingly endless fashion. Visitors are beckoned to engage by signing petitions or donating money. Links to music recommendations guide people to sympathetic bands. The sites are replete with enticing images those strolling around the virtual space can click on to view artwork and interpretations of it that align with and expand the arguments that populate each page. Comments sections provide opportunities to engage in dialogue with other like-minded thinkers. Shops sell merchandise with catch phrases on hats, tote bags, coffee mugs, and t-shirts only those in the know understand. A trove of memes and YouTube videos offer users sharable snippets of the larger arguments underpinning the conspiracy theories.
These networks of linked websites function to create and build not only community between people, but an entire self-sufficient megalopolis. It is a robust “culture” that includes music, shopping, art, news, radio, recommendations from sympathetic academics and doctors, churches, and spaces for conversation. The silos we are told signify extremism are nowhere visible in this bustling and vibrant space.
Once people enter into this community, they are encouraged to stay there. Not only is it an energetic and animated space, but it also repeats important mantras that resonate with sentiments they likely have heard before they even set foot in this new space. These mantras are carefully curated to keep users in this new world. One of the most dominant is the one that accompanied the initial email I was sent: Don’t trust mainstream media because it is run by corrupt people.
This is not a tough pill to swallow if you consider that trust in media has been on the decline since the Nixon administration. In 1996, Fox News capitalized on this lack of trust, entering onto the scene with the claim that it was the only “fair and balanced” cable news networks. More recently, the scourge of scandals that have outed and ousted major media figures from Matt Lauer to Charlie Rose to Roger Ailes and that have called out social media moguls like Facebook for selling user data haven’t helped to restore faith in these more mainstream systems. Why should we trust media organizations that abuse their power?
The networks of conspiracy theorists are trustworthy because not only is the other side corrupt, but the “other” side doesn’t share your values, especially about hot button issues like gun laws, abortion, civil rights, and feminism. The divide is one that cannot be bridged. These are black and white issues; there is no compromise. There is only competition between the “good” side and the “bad” side and people must engage in fighting for their side to save their country.
By framing the divide in language rife with appeals to morality, visitors are primed to reject complexity and refuse to engage in the difficult work of understanding the other side. Identifying the “other” as one’s moral opposite encourages polarization. According to recent research, people who have a strong moral stance on an issue (i.e. abortion) are far less willing to listen to reason or compromise than those who do not have a strong moral stance.
Research also finds that a strong moral stance can result in “the end justifies the means” thinking. In other words, people are willing to compromise certain values in the short term if it means they reach their ultimate goal in the long-term. For example, people who view abortion as a moral issue are willing to vote for a candidate with whom they strongly disagree on other issues in order to advance legislation that aligns with their moral stance. Dangling such a carrot in front of someone makes persuading people to do something against their good judgement far easier.
The overarching theme of competition pervades these spaces. The “other” against which people are fighting is vaguely defined and represented by a cluster of values and beliefs seen to go together. What is important to note is that this cluster is connected to the effect that if a person expresses one value, you should assume they buy into the entire cluster of values. So, if someone is pro-choice, they must also be a far left liberal who wants to take people’s guns away, let in anyone who shows up at the border, and turn the US into a socialist republic like Cuba. If someone is pro-life, they must also be a religious fanatic who support the NRA and is deeply racist, sexist, and homophobic. This is simply not true. People have complicated and sometimes contradictory values that cannot be predicted by their identity or stance on a single issue.
The resulting “us v. them” way of viewing the world is, however, an easier way to understand it. And the good versus bad, us versus them, dichotomy is an appealing one, especially for people who are deeply integrated into certain organized religions, including many sects of Christianity. The Christian religions are often structured around the battle between good and evil or God versus Satan. Rules are laid out that must be followed and the stakes are high, as they determine where one ends up in the afterlife and who gets to join you there. The websites discussed above shoehorn politics into this framework of good and bad, us versus them, by inserting Republicans versus Democrats into the well worn equation.
When politics are presented in the framework of religion, it is easy to translate other events and people into this language. There is plenty of “proof” to back up such assertions in the hyper networked world of conspiracy theories. The more one explores the websites that are linked together through citations and recommendations, the more they find information that confirms their biases and moves them deeper into these extremist ways of thinking.
Importantly, the act of exploring this whole new landscape makes possible the feeling of discovery and enlightenment. The narrative advanced explains everything. Why have you never known of this world previously? Plus, this new community has everything the spaces you lived in before had — music, videos, movies, art, memes, and more. The biggest difference is that it seems to make more sense and it aligns with those deeply held moral beliefs that are never explained by rational logic, but gut reactions (as Jonathan Haidt writes about in The Righteous Mind: Why Good People are Divided by Politics and Religion).
When I look at my family member’s journey from this perspective, it makes it a bit more palatable. I can empathize with wanting to be part of a community that understands me and my logic and that explains current events to me in a way that aligns with my existing framework. It’s more comfortable and we seek comfort during turbulent times like pandemics, shifts in political leaders, and changes to the global order.
This exercise also made me realize how deeply wrong my knee jerk reaction was to write a long email detailing why she was misinformed. If I want to mover her away from conspiracy theories, or at least discourage her from delving deeper into that very enticing network, my best bet is unending patience and a willingness to engage. It exhausts me to think about it, but my most important asset in these conversations is my existing relationship and I can’t let that wither. This person who I care about sent me that first email because she cares about me. She wants to help me. She was inviting me to see the world she sees. And I want to help her.
I have yet to send my reply, although we did get to chat a little bit about some of the concerns she raised over the phone. Having that conversation helped reconnect us in a way emails cannot. I have the letter drafted but I am in less of a rush to send it right away because I know nothing is going to change overnight.
