The Case for Conspiracy Theories
I don’t need to tell you that the term “conspiracy theorist” gets a bad wrap. But why? Let’s try and unpack it.
As a starting point, to begin on unified footing, we can split the blame between those on both sides of the fence. We have the lunatic fringe of the conspiracy world on one side, joyfully encapsulating the extreme tin-foil-hat-wearing, reptilian-overlord believing archetype. On the other side, we have the smug inhabitants of the non-conspiracy (i.e. “normie”) world, who are happy to lazily tar everyone who questions official narratives with the same batshit-crazy brush to forsake having to properly investigate the intellectual validity of a ‘conspiracy’ themselves.
But we need to dig a bit deeper than this. A conspiracy theorist is, at heart, someone who distrusts the official narrative of reality: choosing instead to investigate and advocate for a different and ultimately more nefarious one. There is, as I see it, nothing inherently negative about this act. That is: the act of conspiracy theorising doesn’t indicate any lack of morality about the individual who makes this choice; sure, someone might question mainstream consensus out of intellectual ego, but it is just as likely to be done out of genuine and courageous search for truth, knowing how he/she/they will be labeled because of it.
That said: there is clearly a particular type of personality that is drawn to conspiracies. Perhaps one judgement we are able to make about the person is an increased affinity towards a darker understanding of human nature and power, although a glance at our history shows there is plenty of evidence to support a degree of pessimism in this regard. Should we really be sneering at the intelligence of someone who subscribes to the worldview that the people who rule our world might misuse their power whilst hiding the fact of this misuse from us?
So that begs the question: why has the archetype of the conspiracy theorist come to be seen as negative? Why does simply the mention of this term invoke a negative emotional reaction from people towards someone whose character they know nothing about? It’s almost like we have been conditioned to react that way.
Here’s a thought to ponder. What if the creation of the term “conspiracy theorist” and the place it occupies in popular culture is itself a conspiracy: a deliberate attempt by those in power to demonise the people who are most likely to expose and threaten their misuse of power?
This is the thing about conspiracy theorising, and why so many fear their loved ones getting lost “down the rabbit hole”: it operates at a tipping point after which there is usually no return. Once you get a glimpse of the the conspiracy against conspiracies — the deliberate demonisation of the act of independent investigation of the truth, rather than simply accepting it as it is presented to us — the whole matrix starts to collapse, and you start to see conspiracy everywhere you look.
Once you have gone through the process of this unravelling — or, to use the popular vernacular, once you have been ‘red-pilled’ — one of the main things that occupies your mind (or at least it should) is how to bring other people with you. There is no easy answer to this, and it is of course a unique challenge for every different unique individual whose established worldview you unashamedly want to upheave.
If I was going to make the case for conspiracy theories, then this is how I would do it, drawing on my own experiences and moral worldview.
There is a fundamental and uncomfortable alternate reality that lies under all conspiracy: our world is controlled not by benevolent public servants, but by ruthless sociopaths (and/or psychopaths). This is an unavoidable worldview to at least try on for size if we are to start to see the patterns and connections throughout world events and make sense of them.
My proper red-pill moment, like many, was the discovery of the elaborate lie that is the official 9/11 story. I still remember getting part way through this video — a must watch for everyone — before pausing and taking stock of the upheavals to my reality that I was about to experience.
If you still haven’t investigated 9/11 yourself in a meaningful way, you need to: and this video is the perfect place to start. These are not lounge chair experts keen for their moment in the sun; they are qualified architects and engineers who have formed an organised movement to bring light to this almost unbelievably obvious lie.
If I go back further than that however, the experience that really primed me to accept this dark but necessary truth of our world was something much more common and accessible, even for all the wrong reasons. It was the severe and long term abuse that someone close to me experienced at the hands of their former partner.
I don’t want to get into too much detail (and you can read more about it here) but just to illustrate the lesson that it taught me.
I went into the situation hopelessly naive, believing (like many) in the better nature of humanity to an extent that would fit better in a Disney movie. Quite why I held this belief is a question in itself, given I spent a good proportion of my late teenage and early 20s hanging round individuals of fairly dubious moral character.
Nonetheless, the final reveal of the character of this particular morally-dubious person was the final nudge that I needed to accept the aforementioned uncomfortable truth. But it still makes we wonder why more people familiar with this all too common experience have not made the same realisation.
In fact, I would dare say that many of the loudest voices in the campaign to bring awareness to the presence of these sociopaths in our everyday lives — to the abuse they perpetuate in homes, families, workplaces — would be likely to cry “Conspiracy” to claims that people with these same qualities (who are probably even more ruthlessly effective at practicing their sociopathy) might control the social institutions that exercise power in our world.
I’m not sure why. It may be the tendency that we have to get so caught up in the emotional toll of this reality on our own lives that we simply do not have the time and space for reflection to join the necessary dots (this is, to be sure, what they want). In this sense, I benefited from being able to witness the situation, while still being enough at arms length from the emotional impacts of it that I was still able to process its implications in a rational and logical way.
Because, when one follows the logic, it almost does start to fill in itself. If we accept that there is indeed the existence of people who demonstrate sociopathic behaviour — something that is surely beyond question, even if the causes of it are not so clear — then how would they be likely to act to best satisfy their need for control and manipulation?
Would a true sociopath, a truly competent and effective liar and manipulator, be content to mingle in the middle rungs of society? Or would they more than likely make their way through the ranks of our social institutions — many if not all of which are being exposed to have fundamental corruptions within them — until the ascend to the top where they believe they rightfully belong?
Once there, once they have made their way to positions of power — not just over single individuals like we might be able to familiar with, but entire social systems — we can start to extrapolate out the kind of abuse they now have the capacity to perpetuate.
So I think that is a reasonable way to make the case for conspiracy. But these things are not just about reason. These are emotional issues, and ultimately there is a need to appeal to peoples hearts if they are to not just comprehend this reality, but to then process and act upon it from a place of love and compassion.
And I think we can find a way to do that too.
While there are some fruitcakes in the conspiracy world — often the most well known — they are ultimately outnumbered by diligent and hard working individuals, driven by truth and justice and acting out of a place of love for humanity.
In fact, while it may seem counterintuitive to many people, adopting a conspiratorial worldview can actually foster a greater degree of compassion and understanding for our fellow humans whose personal views we might be inclined to disagree with.
The example of Donald Trump, of all people, can be instructive here.
If you follow American politics (and I certainly do, even though I’m not from America) you will know of these phrases: The Elite, The Deep State, maybe even The Cabal. Donald Trump and his supporters use them frequently, and it was his claims to be able to bring about their downfall that was crucial to his surprise (to many) victory.
To make this point, we don’t need to defend Trump, or to validate his claims of defeating this group. We just have to ask this question: what would it mean if it was true? That a shadowy group of obscenely rich and powerful people, many of which we haven’t even heard of, actually do pull the strings of humanity in secret? And that The Don might have been our best chance to take these fuckers down?
It might mean that, contrary to popular liberal opinion, the main reason Donald Trump got elected wasn’t because he bought out the worst of his voters: by appealing to their base instincts, their prejudices, their anger and resentment, their greed and self interest. Instead, we are able to take the more objectively optimistic position on humanity: that Trump’s election was not the validation of all the worst qualities of his character that are presented to the world for all to see.
Rather, the decisions of these voters — still likely requiring a hefty dose of moral compromise — were motivated primarily by the firm belief that the existence of this shadowy entity is the greatest threat to America, and that Trump’s opponent was a representation of this entity.
In short: If we play the thought game that this conspiracy does exist, or that all those other crazy theories out there might have at least some kernel of truth, it can create a fundamental shift in how we view the increasingly large sections of humanity that subscribe to these views. That is, a fundamental shift of love and compassion for them, even if we might still disagree.
I believe there will be incredible receptivity for this argument once people are able to fully visualise its implications. Why?
To be blunt: the darkness in our world is becoming more readily apparent and exposed.
There is gross inequality, not just between rich and poor countries, but within rich and poor countries.
There is war — wantonly and seemingly willingly started and engaged in.
There is environmental degradation and pollution to the extent that we have doomed certain sections of the human population to near inevitable early death.
There are epidemics of abuse: not only the most visible type, of powerful men to less powerful women; but also, as is becoming increasingly obvious to anyone who digs even a little below the surface, incomprehensible systematic abuse of children.
The explanations we create for these forms of darkness are themselves the cause of further division between us. We blame politics, we blame morality, we blame religion, we blame gender. All of these blame games inherently lower the station of humanity.
But what if it’s not any of our faults: or at least not in the way we might understand it.
What if it is, in an immediate sense, their fault: this tiny section of humanity — of inhumanity — not even the 1% of the 1%, who are responsible for sowing the seeds of un-virtuousness within us: distorting economic systems, entertainment, politics, media, all to encourage this division and blaming.
It only becomes truly our fault if we ignore the obvious signposts that guide us towards the path that itself can lead us to a place of greater love and compassion to our fellow real humans — that is, if we choose to instead stay in the more comfortable position of assigning blame to other humans. To keep our heads buried in the sand when we have been given every reason to step out of the sandbox, out of their game.
This is, I believe, how we will bring people over to our side: starting with logic but ultimately by appealing to each other’s better selves, and helping them in the process of crossing fully into this world.
Because entering this world, while often thrilling, can also be wrapped in darkness, and we all need guides. Guides that help us not to let despair or hopelessness win, that we are all doomed and armageddon is upon us.
Guides that help us to accept the current reality of the mess of our world and the spiritual sickness that is prevalent within it, and use this acceptance as extra motivation to create change: starting with ourselves.