As I’ve written previously, I suspect people think they know more about so-called objective reality than they really do know. One manifestation of this is what we sometimes term a “conspiracy theory:” a mind, scanning the sensory landscape into which it is submerged, tags certain data elements as significant and overlays a system of causal relationships. The causality is always arguably plausible, and the theory appears to enable the person to successfully predict future events.
The plausibility and predictive utility of the theory are awfully seductive, of course, so it’s easy to recruit believers, who refine the theory and contribute new data points that they’ve observed. Soon, the theory takes on a life of its own.
This can be amusing and cute, as in the “Paul is dead” theories of the Beatles era.
Yet peoples’ conspiracy theories often disturb us as well. They unsettle us, because they can’t be dislodged by arguing “facts.” I can guarantee that you couldn’t persuade this guy, for instance, that the cloud formations he photographs have a benign explanation. He’d bury you. He’s a frickin’ meteorologist. He’s devoted his life to mustering facts that support his theories.
What’s more, conspiracy theories have a way of galvanizing people into “inspired action” — it gives them the added motivation of believing that their actions are in the service of something greater than themselves. So we read in the first piece I linked (by Massimo Polidoro, on the website of the Committee for the Scientific Investigation of Claims of the Paranormal):
What is sadly true is the fact that Charles Manson and his “family” also believed that there were hidden messages in Beatles songs hinting at the Armageddon. He thought that the Fab Four were actually angels sent by God to reveal the secrets of the approaching apocalypse and that, in order to start the end of the world, they needed Manson’s help. This is the tragically absurd reasoning he gave for the murder of Sharon Tate, the pregnant wife of film director Roman Polanski, and the guests she was hosting at their house in Hollywood.
I’m not a relativist. I believe there are absolutes out there, dangling from the firmament like the brightest of stars. But look at how we muddy them from our earthbound perspective.
And when I say “we,” I don’t just mean the “crazies.” All of us do it. Political beliefs, for instance, are more like, than unlike, conspiracy theories. Supported by selective data points that are linked together into causal relationships, rendered seductive by plausibility and predictive utility.
We need to find better ways to measure what we accept as true.
