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Why ‘Healthy Conspiracy Theories’ Are (Oxy)morons, Part One, Pascal Wagner et al

SERRC — March 14, 2019 — Leave a comment

Author Information: Pascal Wagner-Egger, University of Fribourg, pascal.wagner@unifr.ch.

Gérald Bronner, Laboratoire Interdisciplinaire des Énergies de Demain

Sylvain Delouvée, University of Rennes

Sebastien Dieguez, University of Fribourg

Nicolas Gauvrit, École Pratique des Hautes Études

Wagner-Egger, Pascal; Gérald Bronner, Sylvain Delouvée, Sebastian Dieguez, Nicolas Gauvrit. “Why ‘Healthy Conspiracy Theories’ Are (Oxy)morons: Statistical, Epistemological, and Psychological Reasons in Favor of the (Ir)Rational View.” Social Epistemology Review and Reply Collective 8, no. 3 (2019): 50-67.

The pdf of the article gives specific page references, and consists of the full text of the article. Shortlinks: https://wp.me/p1Bfg0-47v (part one), https://wp.me/p1Bfg0-47z (part two)

One must never forget the ideological aspects of conspiracy thinking. Image by PJ Nelson via Flickr / Creative Commons

Since 2016, Basham, Dentith and colleagues have, on several occasions, reacted in the Journal Social Epistemology to our call “Let’s fight conspiracy theories effectively”, published in a French daily. There, we worried about French governmental and local initiatives aimed at fighting the proliferation of conspiracy theories (CT) among youths, in a context of terrorist attacks, and subsequent ethnic and religious tensions [1]. We once responded to their critics [2], and we would like here to add some additional arguments, in order to evaluate the relevance of the concept of “healthy conspiracy theories”.[1]

From this discussion, and other debates about the nature and definition of conspiracy theories, it seems that the disagreement may be very simply put: It opposes the “healthy” view on conspiracy theories held by Basham and Dentith (and others; Basham cites Peter Knight, Gina Husting, Martin Orr, Kurtis Hagen, David Coady, Jack Bratich and Charles Pigden, plus some European social psychologists[2]), and the “unhealthy” or “pathologizing” view held by the majority of psychologists (Viren Swami, Robert Brotherton, Jan-Willem, Van Prooijen, Karen Douglas, our team in France and Switzerland, etc.) and some sociologists (Jovan Byford, Joseph Uscinski, Véronique Campion-Vincent, Gérald Bronner, Pierre-André Taguieff, etc.) working in the field[3].

Healthy and Unhealthy Views on Conspiracy Theories

According to the “healthy” view, we should consider each conspiracy theory on its own merits (particularism), and not discard all of them as non-rational beliefs (generalism), given that some conspiracies have been uncovered in history (Watergate, MK-Ultra, Tuskegee experiments, etc.). Its main argument is that the conspiracy theory about US/UK Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD) has finally been proven true. This conspiracy theory accused US and UK armies to have invaded Iraq in 2003, not as they claim because of the alleged presence of weapons of mass destruction — which were finally not found, and led the US and UK governments to recognize their “error” — but in reality, to gain control on a strategic region for oil industry.

For the “unhealthy” view, conspiracy theories are mainly false, often delusional, having negative social consequences[4], and favored by faulty reasoning (cognitive biases).

In this paper, we will evaluate these two positions at a (1) statistical, (2) epistemological, and (3) empirical (psychological) level. We will see how the three levels unambiguously advocate in favor of the “unhealthy” view.

The Statistical Argument

First, at the statistical level, most conspiracy theories are false[5]. If we did not miss any other, Basham and Dentith cite only one (!) conspiracy theory that turned out to be true: the US/UK Weapons of Massive Destructions. Conspiracists and defenders of the healthy view also add some dozens of proved conspiracies (Basham & Dentith enumerate for example the beginnings of holocaust, Stalin, US army in Vietnam, the Watergate, or Litvinenko case [14]; We may add the MK-Ultra project, Tuskegee experiments, the Tobacco conspiracy, etc.). As Popper underlined, successful conspiracies are rare in history [16]. Moreover, and this is a crucial point, all these proved conspiracies did not rely on preceding public conspiracy theories. They were discovered by genuine journalistic, police or judicial investigations. Thus, at best, we know very few conspiracy theories that became true.

By contrast, thousands of conspiracy theories flood books, and nowadays the internet. It would be impossible to build an exhaustive list, but let us only mention some categories: (a) from secret groups (the illuminati, the templars, the freemasons, the Jews, the communists, etc.), (b) about the death of celebrities (JFK, MLK, Lady Diana, John Lennon, Michael Jackson, etc.), and living celebrities (Barack Obama, Emmanuel Macron, Miley Cyrus, etc.), (c) after natural catastrophes (Tsunamis, earthquakes, etc.), (d) about plane crashes or disappearances, (e) after terrorist attacks, (f) about political organizations or meetings (UNO, WTO, IMF, Bilderberg group, etc.), (g) following disease outbreaks, (h) about vaccines, (i) about science and technology (moon landings, chemtrails, CERN, climate change, satellites, etc.), (j) following accidents (bridge collapse at Genoa, fires, etc.), (k) in sports, (l) about alien “visitations”, etc., etc.

Concerning for example the sole Barack Obama, Mother Jones, an independent magazine, identified more than 40 conspiracy theories organized in 5 clusters (about him being Muslim, pervert, dictator, radical leftist or Kenyan) [15]. As another edifying example, Peter Knight’s Encyclopedia of “Conspiracy Theories in American History” is nearly two 1000 pages volumes long.

To be still more precise about the statistical argument, let us think about the numerous JFK’s assassination conspiracy theories. According to former Los Angeles District Attorney Vincent Bugliosi, no less than 42 groups, 82 assassins, and 214 people had been accused in the various conspiracy theories [16]. For the sake of the argument, let us say that there are 50 different conspiracy theories, which is below reality. There are only two epistemic possibilities. Either the official version is true, and the fifty conspiracy theories are false, or one conspiracy is true, and the forty-nine others and the official version are false. In any case, the huge majority of conspiracy theories are false. In view of this statistical argument (one CT that turned to be true against thousands of false or at best unverified CTs), when considering all conspiracy theories to be false, we will be correct at a very close rate of 100%.

Second, at the epistemological level, the official version and the conspiracy theories are not equivalent hypotheses to consider, contrary to what conspiracist often claim. We will rely here on scientific reasoning. Such reasoning can be used to evaluate any kind of hypotheses and beliefs (paranormal beliefs, pseudo-scientific theories, etc.), including socio-historic hypotheses (such as Marxism, and thus, conspiracy theories) [17].

The Epistemological Arguments: Occam’s and Hanlon’s Razors, and the Burden of Proof

First, by virtue of the scientific principle of Occam’s razor, simpler hypotheses have always to be preferred to more complicated ones in order to explain any phenomenon. Considering that every conspiracy theory implies an interpretative extra step compared to their corresponding official versions, every conspiracy theory will be epistemologically more demanding than its official version counterpart. For example, to explain Diana’s death by an accident due to alcohol consumption is, whether true or false, far simpler than the explanation by a plot organized by the secret services. The assassination of a celebrity by a lone and mad person is a more parsimonious explanation than the same assassination by an alleged lone and mad person, in reality being part of a vast and covert plot including many other powerful people.

Even terrorist assaults, that Basham and Dentith describe as “official conspiracy theories”, are simpler than the “alternative conspiracy theories”: the 9/11 conspiracy theory involves an “extra” conspiracy, the (false) terrorist plot and the extra plot in order to conceal the “real” conspiracy (by Al Qaeda). It would engage far more people, and would entail far more organization than the action of a small terrorist cell. Then, the official versions are always simpler (i.e., more parsimonious) than conspiracy theories to explain any event [6].

Second, by virtue of the burden of proof principle, advocates of conspiracy theories must give strong reasons in order to abandon the official version. As conspiracy theories are epistemologically demanding hypotheses, they necessitate high levels of proof to be accepted (such as declassified documents, documents leaks, confessions of leaders, whistleblowers, etc.). This principle is summarized by skeptics as “extraordinary claims require extraordinary levels of proof”, a principle widely used for judging paranormal hypotheses. As they contradict the current view of science, they would be accepted only with a wide and compelling array of evidence[6].

Apparent incongruities in zoomed pictures, slow motion looped videos may not be taken as good reasons, or evidence, to abandon even a seemingly unsatisfying official version. These pseudo-proofs are overused by conspiracy theorists to dismiss official versions (as their only “empirical arguments”) but can often be explained by simpler causes than a conspiracy. They have been called errant data [19].

During the Charlie Hebdo terrorist attacks in Paris in 2015 for example, conspiracists pointed at the flak jackets worn by the people who were filming the assault from the rooftop of the building. For every spectators of the video, the presence of these flak jackets became very strange. The fact that those people wear these flak jackets was taken as a proof that the attack was planned by the authorities, and not a sudden attack from terrorists. It is well known in cognitive and social psychology that the presence of incongruities and coincidences trigger an appeal for explanations [20]. Conspiracy hypotheses will readily fulfill this need.

In reality, the bureau of an investigative journalists’ agency was in front of Charlie Hebdo’s office. The journalists wore flak jackets used in the war zones they regularly cover. Most if not all errant data have been similarly explained, for example by the NASA about Moon landing, or in the numerous debunking arguments about the 9/11 case. Reliance on errant data, sometimes on blurred pictures or videos, or isolated testimony, is reminiscent of paranormal videos and pictures of ghosts or other strange phenomena (such as the Loch Ness pictures of the “monster”) and is of course far from a rational mode of reasoning.

Errant data must be first kept unexplained, and corroborated by other sources, in order to become a clue (but still not a proof) against the official version. A second razor has to be passed through: Hanlon’s razor, which states: “Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity”. This may be seen as a kind of “psychosocial” version of Occam’s razor.

Potential inconsistencies (i.e., clues, that are errant data kept unexplained) in the official version must be first explained by stupidity (error), which is more parsimonious than malice (plan). In the case of conspiracy theories, stupidity would refer to incompetence, expediency (and some add defense secrets[7]). But even when incompetence, expediency and defense secrets may be ruled out, the presence of unexplained errant data is still insufficient to refute the official version. Let us see why.

Where Burdens of Proof Must Achieve

In science indeed, even recognized elements of disconfirming evidence (what errant data are often not, as we mentioned above) have never been sufficient to disprove a theory. As philosophers of science such as Irme Lakatos [21] and Thomas Kuhn [22] argued, contrary to a strict Popperian view, any theory or hypothesis will not be refuted by a conflicting result. The latter may be explained by ad hoc hypotheses (measurement errors, etc.), unexplained results (“anomalies”), or even ignored.

In Lakatos’ terms, every theory is always surrounded by an “ocean of anomalies”. Purely epistemic refutation of a theory by contradicting elements never happens. Contradicting results must increase and be replicated by independent researchers, but even in that case, no refutation occurs. In Thomas Kuhn’s terms, the scientific field enters in a “revolutionary” state, where original ideas are requested (scientists will turn to philosophical ideas, old theories, etc.). Revolution (i.e., refutation of the old theory) will only occur when a new paradigm is proposed, in replacement of the ancient.

In Kuhn’s relativistic account, the new paradigm is incommensurable with the ancient, and thus there is no scientific growth. But in Lakatos’ model, the new research program must explain what explains the ancient, and bring some new hypotheses, some of which having been corroborated in Popper’s sense (i.e., not having been refuted through some experimental tests). In simple terms, to be considered as false, or being disconfirmed, an old theory or hypothesis must be replaced by a new and better one.

Then, in order to refute the official version, a conspiracy theory cannot only raise (even legitimate) doubts on the official version; it must specify how and why and when the conspiracy occurred. Conspiracy theorists should not only try to find negative clues or “proofs” against the official version, but positive clues or “proofs” in favor of the conspiracy hypothesis.

In order to ascertain the less parsimonious claim of a conspiracy, conspiracists must give strong arguments (confessions, papers leaks, etc.) proving the conspiracy, and not only apparent incongruities in the official version (errant data), because once again, extraordinary claims require extraordinary level of proof. Concerning the 9/11 case, Chomsky noted that a fully covered plot had to include thousands of people in the head of various domains of administration (aviation, army, secret services, etc.), and thus was simply nearly impossible[8]. In a nutshell, conspiracy theories, which are more exactly suspicions about the official version, must be replaced by conspiracy inquiries, as was done for example in the Watergate affair.

Note that until the day that the inquiry has reported its results, the conspiracy hypothesis has to be considered as false, and not potentially true, because everything may be considered as potentially true. In science, what is not currently proved has to be considered as false, until strong evidence leads to consider it as (temporarily) true.

The same epistemological argument has been raised by Michael Shermer against creationism and revisionism [23]. Both creationists and revisionists repeatedly point at seemingly inconsistent or unexplained facts or details, in order to dismiss the whole theory/official history. Even if these highlighted errant data were real inconsistencies (which as for conspiracies are very often not), this would not prove that the “official version” is false (and it should first be explained by error before malice).

The opponents would have to build a new theory that explains all the known facts AND the purported inconsistencies, thus bring positive clues or proofs of their claims, what would necessitate a massive level of proof. Instead, creationists and revisionists gesticulate about (often only apparent) errant data. They have nothing more to offer, as conspiracy theorists.

The Inversion of the Burden of Proof

Note that conspiracy theorists, just as revisionists and creationists, regularly use the fallacy of the inversion of the burden of proof. Creationists and revisionists sometimes ask scientists and historians to give “proofs” of evolution and the Holocaust, whereas such “proofs” cannot exist (so refutation is always possible). In Shermer’s terms, there are a huge number of converging evidences — positive clues, and not errant data about a rival hypothesis — in favor of evolution and Holocaust, such as experimental tests, predictions with respect to evolution, and numerous official documents, confessions, testimonies with respect to the Holocaust.

Similarly, members of Reopen 9/11 associations ask defenders of the official version to prove this version, which they consider as extraordinary, with extraordinary proofs. But this is not how science works: the official version already explains a lot of (if not all) events, is supported by a considerable amount of converging evidence, but as any theory, it can never be considered as definitively true.

It may be considered as temporarily and plausibly “true”, until a more parsimonious theory explains the same data, or until a new theory is consensually viewed as explaining the same amount of data, plus some new data (thus being supported by new converging evidence) [21]. No defender of any theory can be asked to prove that his/her theory is definitely true [19] [77]. The burden of proof is obviously on the shoulders of the defenders of the new, less parsimonious, potentially revolutionary theory, and the higher the novelty — or non-parsimony —, the higher the level of proof needed.

Moreover, defenders of the official version cannot prove the absence of a given conspiracy, contrary to the defenders of the conspiracy who can — and have to — prove its presence. This is what posits the ad ignorantiam fallacy, according to which we can never prove the absence of something (such as a unicorn or extraterrestrials), contrary to its presence. For example, it is impossible to definitively prove that Lee Harvey Oswald was acting alone (as nearly every known event in his life could be related to a conspiracy), but it is in principle possible under investigation to prove that he was related to a conspiracy, with recordings or documents. Thus, the burden of proof becomes still heavier for the conspiracy theory, as it is less parsimonious and more “provable” than the official version.

Contact details: pascal.wagner@unifr.ch

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[67] J.-W. van Prooijen, A. P. M. Krouwel, and T. V. Pollet, ‘Political Extremism Predicts Belief in Conspiracy Theories’, Soc. Psychol. Personal. Sci., vol. 6, no. 5, pp. 570–578, Jul. 2015.

[68] P. Stokes, ‘Between Generalism and Particularism about Conspiracy Theory: A Response to Basham and Dentith‘, Social Epistemology Review and Reply Collective 5, no. 10, pp. 34-39, 2016.

[69] D. Barron, K. Morgan, T. Towell, B. Altemeyer, and V. Swami, ‘Associations between schizotypy and belief in conspiracist ideation’, Personal. Individ. Differ., vol. 70, pp. 156–159, Nov. 2014.

[70] R. Brotherton and S. Eser, ‘Bored to fears: Boredom proneness, paranoia, and conspiracy theories’, Personal. Individ. Differ., vol. 80, pp. 1–5, Jul. 2015.

[71] N. Dagnall, K. Drinkwater, A. Parker, A. Denovan, and M. Parton, ‘Conspiracy theory and cognitive style: a worldview’, Front. Psychol., vol. 6, p. 206, 2015.

[72] M. Grzesiak-Feldman and A. Ejsmont, ‘Paranoia and Conspiracy Thinking of Jews, Arabs, Germans, and Russians in a Polish Sample’, Psychol. Rep., vol. 102, no. 3, pp. 884–886, Jun. 2008.

[73] J. van der Tempel and J. E. Alcock, ‘Relationships between conspiracy mentality, hyperactive agency detection, and schizotypy: Supernatural forces at work?’, Personal. Individ. Differ., vol. 82, pp. 136–141, Aug. 2015.

[74] P.-A. Taguieff, Pensée conspirationniste et ‘théories du complot’. Uppr Editions, 2015.

[75] S. Delouvée, ‘Répéter n’est pas croire. Sur la transmission des idées conspirationnistes’, Diogene, vol. n° 249-250, no. 1, pp. 88–98, 2015.

[76] C. Guimelli, La pensée sociale. 1999.

[77] K. Popper, Conjectures and refutations: The growth of scientific knowledge. routledge, 2002.

[78] A. A. Harrison and J. M. Thomas, ‘The Kennedy assassination, unidentified flying objets, and other conspiracies: Psychological and organizational factors in the perception of ‘cover-up’’, Systems Research and Behavioural Science, no. 14, pp.113-128, 1997.

[79] H. J. Irwin, ‘Belief in the paranormal: A review of the empirical literature’, J. Am. Soc. Psych. Res., vol. 87, no. 1, pp. 1–39, 1993.

[80] A. C. Kay, J. A. Whitson, D. Gaucher, and A. D. Galinsky, ‘Compensatory control: Achieving order through the mind, our institutions, and the heavens’, Curr. Dir. Psychol. Sci., vol. 18, no. 5, pp. 264–268, 2009.

[81] A. C. Kay, S. Shepherd, C. W. Blatz, S. N. Chua, and A. D. Galinsky, ‘For God (or) country: The hydraulic relation between government instability and belief in religious sources of control’, J. Pers. Soc. Psychol., vol. 99, no. 5, pp. 725–739, 2010.

[82] J. A. Whitson and A. D. Galinsky, ‘Lacking Control Increases Illusory Pattern Perception’, Science, vol. 322, no. 5898, pp. 115–117, Oct. 2008.

[83] J. Greenberg, S. L. Koole, and T. A. Pyszczynski, Handbook of experimental existential psychology. Guilford Press, 2004.

[84] A. Bangerter, La diffusion des croyances populaires: le cas de l’effet Mozart. Presses Universitaires de Grenoble, 2008.

[85] S. Moscovici and G. Duveen, Social representations: Explorations in social psychology, vol. 41. Polity Press Cambridge, 2000.

[86] J. Räikkä and L. Basham, ‘Conspiracy Theory Phobia’, in J. E. Uscinski (ed.), Conspiracy Theories and the People Who Believe Them, Oxford University Press, 2018.

[87] L. Boltanski, Énigmes et complots : Une enquête à propos d’enquêtes, Paris : Gallimard, 2012.

[88] P. Boyer, Religion explained: The evolutionary origins of religious thought, New York: Basic Books, 2001.

[89] G. Bronner and É. Géhin, Le danger sociologique, Presses Universitaires de France, 2017.

[90] J. Byford, Conspiracy theories: A critical introduction, New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011.

[91]P. Wagner-Egger et S. Delouvée, ‘Les croyances conspirationnistes‘, Dans N. Gauvrit & S. Delouvée (Eds.), Des têtes bien faites : Défense de l’esprit critique, Paris : P.U.F., 2019.

[92]D. R. Grimes, ‘On the Viability of Conspiratorial Beliefs‘, PLoS ONE 11(1), 2016: e0147905. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0147905

[93] G. Bronner, La démocratie des crédules, Presses Universitaires de France, 2013.

[94] B. Franks, A. Bangerter, M. W. Bauer, M. Hall and M. C. Noort, ‘Beyond “Monologicality”? Exploring Conspiracist Worldviews‘, Front. Psychol., 8:861. 2017.

[1] Thanks to Olivier Klein, Kenzo Nera and Pit Klein for their comments on an earlier draft of this manuscript, and to Daniel de Oliveira Fernandes for his help in building the bibliography.

[2] e.g. [3], but note that in their other papers, they do not argue for the “healthy” view [4]. They empirically showed that conspiracy mentality predicts a preference for alternative over biomedical therapies, which is clearly not rational ; see also [5], [6].

[3] Byford notes that a number of social scientists are indeed somewhere in between the “healthy” and “unhealthy” views, by considering conspiracy theories as not rational per se, but as reasonable answers to the uncertainties of the modern world, or as an interpretative and non political framework, with a playful and ironic side (e.g., Jane Parish, Martin Parker, Daniel Pipes, Timothy Melley, Marc Fenster, etc.) [90].

[4] They have empirically been shown to increase risky behaviors about AIDS [7], and about vaccination [8], [9], to increase skepticism about global warming and thus leading to care less about environment [9], [10], to discourage political engagement [9], [11], to diminish confidence in science and to decrease pro-social behavior [12]. Moreover, the conspiracy theories are used in the radicalization process of terrorists [13]. Finally, at the ideological level, “conspiracism has been the staple ingredient of discriminatory, anti-democratic and populist politics, a trademark of the rhetoric of oppressive regimes, and a faithful companion to antisemitism” (p. 144) [90].

[5] Following Keeley [19], we define here conspiracy theories as explanations of some historical event (or events) in terms of the significant causal agency of a relatively small group of people of persons acting in secret.

[6] This is what the famous social psychologist Daryl Bem [18] tried to produce in order to show that a human anticipation of random future events, a paranormal phenomenon, could exist. He published a study which showed the effect, and after failed replications by others, conducted a multi-laboratories replication study, whose meta-analysis confirmed the effect. But the statistical tools used has been under harsh criticism and has not yet convinced the majority of the scientific community. Proofs (or mathematical tools used) must really be indisputable in order to win acceptance.

[7] See Mr. Sam, French skeptical Youtuber, on the following link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P97hfmIvxxQ&t=669s.

[8] Keeley states a similar argument for every large-scale conspiracy theory [19]. See also [92].

Between Two Generalisms: A Reply to Stokes, Lee Basham

SERRC — December 13, 2016 — 6 Comments

Author Information: Lee Basham, South Texas College, labasham@southtexascollege.edu

Basham, Lee. “Between Two Generalisms: A Reply to Stokes.” Social Epistemology Review and Reply Collective 5, no. 12 (2016): 4-12.

The PDF of the article gives specific page numbers. Shortlink: http://wp.me/p1Bfg0-3lM

Editors Note: An earlier version of this article posted to this page was a draft. We regret the error.

Please refer to:

Dentith, Matthew R. X. “When Inferring to a Conspiracy might be the Best Explanation.” Social Epistemology 30, 5-6 (2016): 572-591.
Basham, Lee. “The Need for Accountable Witnesses: A Reply to Dentith.” Social Epistemology Review and Reply Collective 5, no. 7 (2016): 6-13.
Dentith, Matthew R.X. “Treating Conspiracy Theories Seriously: A Reply to Basham on Dentith.” Social Epistemology Review and Reply Collective 5, no. 9 (2016): 1-5.
Basham, Lee and Matthew R. X. Dentith. “Social Science’s Conspiracy-Theory Panic: Now They Want to Cure Everyone.” Social Epistemology Review and Reply Collective 5, no. 10 (2016): 12-19.
Stokes, Patrick. “Between Generalism and Particularism about Conspiracy Theory: A Response to Basham and Dentith.” Social Epistemology Review and Reply Collective 5, no. 10 (2016): 34-39.
Dentith, Matthew R. X. “In Defence of Particularism: A Reply to Stokes.” Social Epistemology Review and Reply Collective 5, no. 11 (2016): 27-33.

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Image credit: Mikey, via flickr

There’s the progress. We have found ways to talk around the problem—Michael Stipe

Most of us are fond of retro music, movies, what have you, some even epistemology. Let’s roll back to the 1990s. In his enjoyable, wide-ranging “Between Generalism and Particularism: A Reply to Basham and Dentith” Patrick Stokes encounters issues that have concerned social epistemologists for the last 20 years, Charles Pigden, Brian Keeley, David Coady, Kurtis Hagen and Matthew Dentith among them. I’m happy to be somewhere in the mix. The “furious agreement” Stokes notices is just thoughtful consensus. Even our new friends, the social psychologists, are increasingly on board. Stokes’ concerns are important and remain common in mainstream media and government discourse, if less among the public. He returns us to “the roots”, which these epistemologists, as well as cultural theorists like Peter Knight, Jodi Dean, Jack Bratich, Gina Husting and Martin Orr encourage us to grow beyond.

A problem some might wish to talk around which these theorists and others converge on, is the recurrent lack of transparency in our information hierarchies; political, economic and on occasion, scientific. Information control and the imposition and maintenance of constraining interpretive narratives is the habitual recourse in the stability of our hierarchical societies. This induces powerful stresses within our social epistemology. Because Stokes so quickly crosses so much territory, any response enjoys much to deal with.

Subject at Hand, Social Epistemology

Stokes claims he seeks a halfway house between particularism and generalism. In itself, that’s encouraging, given the dangers of generalism to democracies. Traditional generalism claims conspiracy theories are to be treated as prima facie false because they are conspiracy theories (or be subject to some similar epistemic mal-attitude). Particularism rejects the biasing prima facie false presumption against conspiracy theory. It treats conspiracy explanations as any other explanations; simply a question of evidence. Particularists tend to think conspiracies are normal to human conduct, so there’s no reason to think our natural ability vanishes in the upper reaches of our economic and political hierarchies. Some suspicion is proper.

But it’s a mistake to think particularism is the opposite of generalism. The opposite might be labeled anti-generalism: conspiracy theories are prima facie true. Both appear equally pathological in manner and measure. Generalists and anti-generalists tend to end up in similar places. Generalists are usually found as lower-level, true-believing functionaries in political parties and within cubicles in certain academic departments, while anti-generalists are often found in mental asylums or in the company of stolen shopping carts. Neither have much to recommend them as life-styles or epistemic positions. Particularism is the better place, a commonsense halfway house between either extreme.

Particularism and generalism have social consequences. Generalism functions as a stabilizing, silencing tactic concerning conspiracy explanations and as bridge to the pathologizing approach to those who explore conspiracy explanations. Particularism takes a cautious view of institutions that can gain much by public deception; governments, mass media and corporations. Conspiratorial, often illegal, activity is a significant possibility here and often powerfully anti-democratic. So conspiracy theories alleging such should be evaluated solely case by case, on the basis of evidence, without any epistemic mal-biasing. For particularism, the salvation of the state lies in watchfulness of the citizen.

Generalism expresses the piety that Western political and economic hierarchies rarely conspire against citizens, and mass media and national law enforcement can and will almost inevitably investigate and expose them should they ever make the attempt. The way paranoid anti-generalism embraces all conspiracy theories, generalism takes an equally paranoid stance to the very idea of conspiracy.

Presented with a dilemma argument with a conclusion one dislikes, one escape is to deny the disjuncts are exhaustive. Seek a halfway house. The trick is to have the halfway house be distinct from the original disjuncts. Stokes labels his halfway house between particularism and generalism as (a) “defeasible generalism” or alternatively, (b) “reluctant particularism”.

About (a): All generalists have an “ultimately defeasible” caveat because all grudgingly recognize that some conspiracy theories have proven true or well-warranted. But they require “overwhelming” evidence be presented before a conspiracy theory is to be considered as plausible. That places Stokes position squarely within the generalist camp. It does not distinguish Stokes’ position from traditional generalism, a position that on reflection appears untenable.

About (b): If “reluctant particularism” is “defeasible generalism” by another name, “conspiracy theories are prima facie false, but if presented with “overwhelming” evidence in their favor we will reluctantly concede they’re well-warranted or true, then again this merely re-labels old-style generalism.

If “reluctant” means we will not immediately embrace a theory, but seek significant evidence for or against, then this is simply the particularist position. We have the same “reluctance” towards any scientific theory. This reluctance doesn’t view the theory as prima facie false. Saying a theory is not yet warranted is not to say it probably never will be, just because of the sort of theory it is. Any explanation of events or phenomena in the context of competing explanations leads to this sort of “reluctance” on the part of a judicious evaluator. As evidence accrues, rejection, acceptance or agnosticism emerge. Not only the method of empirical science, it is also the method of academic history, the best journalism, and legal investigation into conspiratorial activities. The last three are rife with well-evidenced conspiracy theory. True, a few conspiracy theorists are evidentially incorrigible, but most are not. True, a few scientists and philosophers are evidentially incorrigible, when their guiding framework runs into problems, but most are not.

Stokes quickly opts for traditional generalism. He remains reasonable when invoking reality; his few examples of conspiracy theory all resort to particularism.

At this point we may have noticed that “generalism”, and any admixture with it, is intrinsically vague; what is “overwhelming”? What does “prima facie” really come to? In contrast, particularism focuses on evidence and proportions the selection of conspiracy theories to investigate on grounds of personal, political and human salience.

Meet the Public Trust Approach (again)

Stokes prefaces his remarks by resurrecting an element of Brian Keeley’s (1999) argument in “Of Conspiracy Theories”,

… I’d suggest we have reasons to be wary of conspiracy theorizing as a practice simply because the internal logic of conspiracy explanation disconnects the morally serious act of accusation from the force of evidence. To defend a conspiracy theory over any length of time typically requires the conspiracy theorist to recruit more and more people to the conspiracy. Conspiracy theory as a practice does not simply trade in suspicion, but in accusation without warrant.

Stokes’ remark is a skeletal version of the “public trust approach” (PTA). So commonplace in media and governing discourse it qualifies as Western political orthodoxy. This puts Stokes on the far side of generalism, one almost as extreme as might be imagined. Wisely, Keeley does not leap to the conclusion that conspiracy theory is accusation without warrant. Criticisms of the PTA are well-known and numerous in the literature. Even Keeley has abandoned the argument Stokes resurrects.

An insistence on ever-growing conspiracy is empirically mistaken. Most ambitious conspiracies don’t require ever-growing conspiratorial casts. So neither do theories about them. It’s easy to show conspiracies can be conducted with a surprisingly limited number of people. The vast majority empowering a conspiracy need not know what the goals of the conspiratorial leadership are and believe they are pursuing something entirely different. This is especially evident in hierarchical institutions, where people participate in well-compartmentalized roles within a top-down system of command and goal-interpretation.

Nor do most conspiracy theories trade in unwarranted accusation. A cursory examination of contemporary conspiracy theorizing quickly reveals that the argumentation used in most mature conspiracy theories is conducted with standards of evidence and inference we all share. Virtually all socially prominent conspiracy theories have significant warrant, even though it is often indecisive. That indecisiveness might be revealing. Whatever the case, it leaves us with rejection or a studied agnosticism. Conspiracy theorists’ careful evidential effort is an important reason why people are interested in these explanations. These aren’t baseless mutterings in alleys and on message boards. That’s a strawperson. They need much more than that to gain and hold anyone’s attention in today’s information-saturation.

Keeley, no friend of conspiracy theory, repeatedly makes this point. Many conspiracy theories, especially the most ambitious and popular, enjoy valid inferences and significant evidence; warrant. Pigden, Coady, Hagen, Dentith and myself have all pressed this. It’s an empirical reality. The developments within, and significant self-corrections, of alternative 9/11 conspiracy theories, are a useful casebook. Contra generalism, if we are to understand these conspiracy theories, we must carefully study them. Whatever we make of them, intellectual honesty forces us to concede they aren’t just “trading in accusation without warrant”. If they were, there would not be the sizable, detailed, intelligent discussions for and against them on the internet.

Even when a conspiracy is strongly suggested by publically available facts and observations, many institutions have non-epistemic motives that prevent them from exploring these conspiratorial possibilities and encourage them to actively dismiss, socially disqualify and effectively silence those who do explore these explanations. None of this involves being intentional co-conspirators. Some avenues of investigation are simply too economically, politically or socially “toxic” to pursue (the “why look” problem). Institutional forces and society stabilizing interests are all it takes. The Atomic Energy Commission irradiated millions of Americans during atomic bomb tests of the 1950s, leading to the fallout deaths in thousands of livestock and hundreds of thousands of human cancer deaths. They assured the public, contrary to their knowledge otherwise, that they were doing nothing dangerous and deadly. It is hardly surprising that the department of Agriculture didn’t hold a press conference to correct the deception, or that mainstream media did not investigate. No phone calls were necessary, no payoffs or threats. The topic was untouchable in the fear-hysteria of the 1950s. It was as toxic as the radioactive fallout. To do so would be “siding with the communists”. When a similar fear-hysteria swept the US post 9/11, the same move was applied to silence critics of the official story; they were “siding with the terrorists”. One would think this would be obvious to Stokes, as it was a source of great consternation and discussion in academia, post 9/11 as it was in the 1950s.

With Stokes’ halfway house nowhere in sight, issues of truth or warrant accordingly swept aside with the wand of generalism, we needn’t be detained by the question, is the conspiracy theory true? We can indulge a generalism of non-epistemic proportions; moral censure. This can only be consistent with epistemic generalism if it equally rejects conspiracy theories. For Stokes, it meets or exceeds. For Pigden, Coady, Dentith and others the moral verdict is the opposite: In a democracy moral considerations strongly support taking many conspiracy theories quite seriously, initially and then on the basis of evidence.

Moral Issues

Moving from the epistemic to moral, Stokes claims our fellow citizens are immoral to publically share conspiratorial possibilities. Here the “immoral” is a simple consequentialism. Sharing them without rejection does social harm, so they should not be shared. While he makes no attempt to show they do more harm than good, Stokes seems to assume this is obvious. That’s easy to contest and has been in the literature. But let’s look at his examples, because he uses these not just as a moral critique of belief in particular conspiracy theories, but ironically, as a critique of particularism,

Conspiracy theories persist for years, even decades, in the absence of evidence, and can continue to cause harms while they do. There was never any evidence to suggest that AIDS was invented by Western drug companies and governments in an attempt to exploit and control Africa, yet this belief persisted long enough to kill over 330,000 people.

We should note “never any evidence” stamps for important political claims are almost always false, simplicities that social epistemology can rarely enjoy concerning anything socially momentous. This caution made, Stokes’ argument appears to be a 5 step one,

1) Epistemic generalism is true; epistemic issues are “off the table” except in extremely rare cases (traditional generalism);

2) Many popular conspiracy theories cause harm;

3) If a theory causes harm, it is morally suspect (consequentialism);

4) Particularism claims we should evaluate conspiracy theories on the evidential warrant of each;

5) Unwarranted conspiracy theories are popularly believed for long periods of time without evidence (the “unreasoning masses” gambit).

So, Particularism is not the correct approach to conspiracy theorizing.

Invalid as it stands, it must be an enthymeme; there’s a missing, assumed to be obvious premise. We’ll return to that.

(4) is definitional. For the moment the interesting claims (1), (3) and (5) can wait. Let’s look at (2).

Stokes’ South African AIDS example doesn’t illustrate (2). In the paper he cites these 330,000 deaths were not caused by warrantless popular belief in an anti-Western conspiracy theory, thundering through the cities and villages. Instead the tragedy begins with a top-down decision in 1987 to reject anti-HIV drugs by the newly minted post-racist government of South Africa. Motivated by scientifically valid, if ultimately mistaken early doubts about HIV causation, racially and politically amplified by an understandable desire to demonstrate independence from Western nations, the SA federal government rejected offers of free anti-HIV drugs. The paper’s premise is that had the government accepted and distributed the drugs, most would have gladly used them and the 330,000 would have been saved. “Denialism” is not the same as “conspiracy theory”.

But let’s pretend, far-fetched as it is, that the SA government in 1987 really believed anti-HIV drugs were Western stealth genocide and successfully propagated the same absurdity in the public. Is this a counter-example to particularism? Transparently the opposite. Particularism challenges unwarranted conspiracy theories. Which is exactly what happened, even on the “sincerely believed conspiracy theory” scenario; by 2008 the SA government’s minister health announced that “HIV denialism” was dead, along with much tragic human evidence. Evidence prevails.

(2) also appears to be false at large, as does the cynicism of (5); the “unreasoning masses” gambit popular among some political, economic and academic elites. Instead we typically observe the success of evidence-dissemination and open debate. The anti-vaccination movement has been profoundly undermined. Particularism. Many of the tenants of the 9/11 truth movement have been abandoned by its own members after lengthy, public, rational debate, some them quite quickly, even within months. Particularism. Similarly, and at the cost of significant social and personal anguish, the Iraq war is now widely recognized in the West to be an act of political conspiracy on the part of the US and other Western governments, particularly those of Bush and Blair. Particularism. The future wars particularism can prevent on the basis of past accuracy and future deployment are worthy of our moral consideration.

Returning to the argument above, the missing premise appears to be,

(6) Our default analysis of conspiracy theories should not be in terms of evidential merit, but in terms of how they promote or undermine our political projects; those that undermine these should be rejected, those that promote these should be promoted.

This is reminiscent of the position of Sunstien and Vermeule, who argue conspiracy theories the government finds objectionable should be undermined by covert governmental “cognitive infiltration”; the government conspiring against citizens who accuse the government of conspiring against citizens. As Hume would say, it’s hard to imagine a position less worthy of serious refutation. There is nothing epistemically suspect about conspiracy theories as such, distinguishing them from other political and economic explanations. The official account of 9/11 is a conspiracy theory. The non-conspiratorial “bizarre series of aviation mishaps” theory has no privileged status for being non-conspiratorial. It fares poorly. Any plausible explanation of 9/11 is a conspiracy theory. The question is which conspiracy theory? We face the same in Litvininko’s polonium poisoning; a conspiracy, but whose? One by fellow dissidents attempting to embarrass the Russian government, or by the Kremlin, punishing their critics?

Again, as a political tool generalism isn’t about dismissing “conspiracy theories”, it’s about silencing those who the political hierarchy, and those who find comfort within that hierarchy, dislike. But a reflexive habit of reasoning through evidence is the core value of democracy. Generalism stands in stark contrast. Particularism is an epistemic project: The conditional, if we adopt particularism, we are more able to detect real conspiracies, and more able to critique claims about conspiracies that are not. We can also recognize when the evidence is indeterminate. Not an epistemic piety, it’s a social project and more often than not, an empirical reality; functional democracy.

To the basic moral question: Perhaps the worst naiveté is a discourse-censoring generalism about conspiracy theories. Instead of a fair and open debate, a measured patience to sift through the facts, the orthodoxy of generalism won out, and to date at least 500,000 innocent people have died in the Iraq invasion and cascade of wars that followed. Previously, an intelligence community conspiracy about what didn’t happen on March 4, 1964, in the gulf of Tonkin led to the deaths of over 2,000,000, even though the possibility of a conspiracy to justify the war on false pretenses was quickly raised. The accusation the North Vietnamese in 1964 would attack the US Navy was ridiculous. Yet generalism proved the popular, though delusional, default value. The tradition of generalism of whatever form or guise reopens the path to moral disaster; as it has been it will be. Abbot Anshin Thomas puts it, “If nothing changes, nothing changes”.

Generalism is us continuing the same mistakes. If we aim to generate ever-growing body counts, the future surely lies with generalism. Particularism directly confronts theories that are unwarranted (Jews are trying to destroy Western civilization), promotes well-evidenced conspiracy theories (the US deceived the world to go to war with Iraq) or shows that we can have no more confidence in a theory than against it, agnosticism (certain Russians are conspiring to re-invade Western Europe).

The Tracy Affair

What are the ethical consequences of publically disseminating or seeking evidence for conspiracy theories? Different theories, in different hands, will have different consequences. It’s not about conspiracy theories or theorizing. The Tracy affair illustrates one person’s misguided actions at the end of an extreme and long drawn out case, involving Tracy’s questions about the reality of the Sandy Hook murders. It has no epistemic relevance to how we should approach conspiracy theories as such. Nor can it support a broad-brush normative rejection. It’s revealing Stokes doesn’t opt for generalism in the Tracy affair, declaring “It’s a conspiracy theory” and asking us to move on. Instead he opts for particularism, evaluating Tracy’s evidence as “weak”.

Conclusion

We don’t need a world increasingly closed, but one more open. Respect for conspiratorial possibilities is integral to this. The truth of our times, and any, is that we are frequented by conspiracies within our political and economic hierarchy. From either an epistemic or moral perspective, Stokes has not located a halfway house but a traditional generalism, epistemically and normatively; generalism doubled, “super-generalism”, one commonplace among our political, economic, media and academic elites.

It’s no surprise Stokes, seeking a halfway house after rejecting particularism, must be driven to generalism. Unfortunately, this also forces him, with other researchers, to pathologize billions of reasonable people. This is usually done by omission: (1) don’t recognize the critical role of conspiracy theory in fully functioning democracies (highlighted by Pigden, Coady and Dentith), (2) offer no examples in recent history of the many true and socially beneficial conspiracy theories, (3) offer none of the legion of examples of when the polis entertained conspiracy theories, gathered evidence on its own—unguided by government or mass media—and rejected those theories as unwarranted, (4) erroneously de-rationalize billions of rational persons, asserting that counter-evidence will bounce off those taking conspiratorial explanations seriously (“the unreasoning masses” gambit) and (5) don’t recognize the careful, often even-handed reasoning we see in conspiracy theory communities, reasoning that leads to public revelation. This is the essence of the increasingly discredited pathologizing approach to conspiracy theories and theorists in the social sciences. One is left with the impression these researchers have not actually tried to understand conspiracy theory and its theorists, but have arrived on the “scene of the crime”, already knowing who the guilty are. This is understandable, expressing a Western political piety of our times, but a piety that, to the consternation of many elites, appears to be collapsing within the general populace.

It should collapse. Generalism isn’t the morally appropriate attitude in an open society, a functioning democracy. It ignores the key roles conspiracy theorists play in securing our democracy; frequently these people are acting in our self-defense. It can’t come to terms with the many ways steep information hierarchies like our own can fail and frequently have failed to disseminate crucial information to the public. With open, fair-minded evidential discussion set aside—particularism—it inevitably leaves us with a highly censorial, de-rationalizing and mentally manipulative pathologizing response to those who voice suspicions of conspiratorial activities, no matter how well thought out. We know the answer as soon as we identify their suspicions as those of conspiracy: Pathologize, disqualify and silence.

This is immoral and dangerous. Many European Jews understood the NAZIs would never stop at the legal restrictions of the Nuremburg laws. Even though this fear was denounced as an “outrageous conspiracy theory”, they spread the outrage. Among them, Einstein fled. Millions saved themselves. 30 years later hundreds of millions of Americans and Europeans accused the aptly named “coalition of the willing” of being based on lies and fear-mongering manipulations, which mass media in the US and many other countries cooperated with. The conspiracy theorists were right. Half a million have died in the Middle East, largely because of the disqualifying tactic of generalism and the pathologizing of reasonable people it entails. When “a war to save democracy” is used to perpetuate a dismissal of critical questions about the real aims and unreal evidence offered by leadership we should attend carefully to our conspiracy theorists. Generalism is deadly.

The reason is simple. Human life is conspiratorial. We can face this, embrace it, but if we deny it, we empower it in the worst way. It’s commonplace, natural to an intelligent, social and competitive species at our level of cooperative and communicative sophistication. People keep sexual secrets, cover for friends, cooperate in mutually beneficial thefts from employers, arrange global business manipulations, distort elections. The list goes on at any level of social organization, of any kind. Common sense and established history also shows conspiracy in the face of political oppression, manipulation and tyranny, is vastly beneficial. The mutual vigilance conspiracy generates between great nations, and the uncertainties it forces on policy, prevent wars of aggression. Like any social ability, conspiracy is what you make of it. The same applies to conspiracy theory. Like any other means of explanation, it has powerful abuses and absolutely critical uses.

Patrick Stokes’ motives are the best. His “full disclosure” tells us he combats those who question vaccine safety and efficacy. Laudable. Stokes’ position would be more plausible if he focused on anti-vaccination. That places him where he really lives; particularism. One shouldn’t generalize from a good fight against a narrow class of conspiracy theories to a condemnation of them all. That’s a broadside against all of us, including Stokes. We all embrace well-warranted conspiracy theories on all levels of social relationship and organization. Mass media and government protests notwithstanding, social research shows the vast majority of us experience no pejorative connotation to the term “conspiracy theory”. Good news for functioning democracies.

Generalism serves to perpetuate, not confront, the real vulnerabilities in our information hierarchy. We should welcome its fading. A 21^st century epistemic honesty beckons. Between the extremes of generalism and anti-generalism, the real halfway house is particularism. It keeps a light on, and something good in the oven. As Patricia learns at the end of the Wizard of Oz, there’s “no place like home”.

In Critical Replies conspiracy as best explanation, conspiracy theory, generalism, Lee Basham, Matthew R. X. Dentith, particularism, Patrick Stokes

Treating Conspiracy Theories Seriously: A Reply to Basham on Dentith, Matthew R. X. Dentith

SERRC — September 2, 2016 — 11 Comments

Author Information: Matthew R. X. Dentith, University of Auckland, m.dentith@episto.org

Dentith, Matthew R.X. “Treating Conspiracy Theories Seriously: A Reply to Basham on Dentith.” Social Epistemology Review and Reply Collective 5, no. 9 (2016): 1-5.

The PDF of the article gives specific page numbers. Shortlink: http://wp.me/p1Bfg0-3ak

Please refer to:

Dentith, Matthew R. X. “When Inferring to a Conspiracy might be the Best Explanation.” Social Epistemology (2016): 1-20. doi: 10.1080/02691728.2016.1172362.
Basham, Lee. “The Need for Accountable Witnesses: A Reply to Dentith.” Social Epistemology Review and Reply Collective 5, no. 7 (2016): 6-13.

Screen Shot 2016-09-01 at 16.08.50

Image credit: cobalt123, via flickr

Conspiracy theories are—if you believe certain sources—rife, plentiful, and abounding. Despite this being a concern to some social scientists (see, for example, the recent declaration in Le Monde by Gérald Bronner, et al.[1]), the academic literature on these things we call “conspiracy theories” is still small. On the one hand, what better way to spend a week or three than in the examination of the various articles and books on the subject? But, on the other hand, the smallness of the literature reveals some peculiarities, particularly among the works of many social scientists. For example, despite “conspiracy theory” appearing to be perfectly general term (some explanatory theory concerning the existence of a conspiracy), and the apparently “curious” fact (curious in that such instances are often played down when talking about conspiracy theories) that conspiracies occur, there is already a deep-seated vein in the existing literature which says conspiracy theories are bunk, and we have a general case to be suspicious of them. Continue Reading…

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