Many years ago, home alone on a Saturday morning and in search of entertainment, I came across a movie called Capricorn One, about an elaborate hoax to fake a Mars landing. Kidnapped flight crew, secret sound stages, special effects, and a desperate escape through the desert–it has all the makings of a thriller. This movie was my Intro to Conspiracy Theories/Conspiracy Theories 101 class. Because it had never before occurred to me that perpetrating such a grand hoax could be possible–let alone that anyone would have reason to do such a thing–I admit I was intrigued for weeks. It raised questions about the moon landing and everything else I had ever read about NASA, space exploration, and the integrity of our government and its agencies.
To be clear, when I say “intrigued,” I do not mean I ever believed the notion of grand hoaxes perpetrated by NASA or questioned the legitimacy of our country’s advances into space travel. I mean I was intellectually curious: curious to know why anyone would propose such an idea, curious to understand what kind of mind questions verifiable scientific fact, curious to know whether such a hoax could be pulled off.
That film was produced in 1977, so obviously conspiracy theories are not a 21st-century phenomenon, and they were not even a 20th-century phenomenon. It does seem, however, that conspiracy theories have proliferated and gained traction more in the last decade than in all the other decades of my life.
Q Anon is one of the hot groups right now chasing some wild theories about the inner workings of our government. Recently, after hearing the name mentioned so often, I realized I didn’t have a clear understanding of who or what this group is, beyond the obvious, that it’s pretty crazy. So I found some articles in reputable publications (I refuse to visit Q Anon sites) and educated myself. If, like me, you’re not quite sure what Q Anon is or whether you should rush out to sign up, here’s a little of what I learned.
The core belief of those who identify as Q Anon followers is that the United States is governed by a “deep state” made up of Satan-worshiping pedophiles. Although that would certainly explain a lot about what’s happening right now, we’ve advanced from Conspiracy Theories 101 into the post-doctoral courses: Conspiracy Theory Meets Twilight Zone. An August 20 New York Times article adds, “Members of this group [also] kill and eat their victims in order to extract a life-extending chemical from their blood.” So for the sake of brevity, let’s call them the SWPCs (Satan-worshiping pedophilic cannibals).
It’s pretty hard to imagine such far-fetched stuff going mainstream, but it has done just that. The same NYT article says social media platforms have been flooded with misinformation propagated by this umbrella “for a sprawling set of internet conspiracy theories that allege, falsely, that the world is run by a cabal of Satan-worshiping pedophiles who are plotting against Mr. Trump while operating a global child sex-trafficking ring.” It’s also known as a “big-tent” conspiracy theory, so it’s an equal-opportunity clearing house for all types of wackos.
And that brings us to the least shocking fact of all: Donald Trump is at the center of this madness. In fact, Donald Trump is the hero they are trying to rescue from the grips of the deep-state SWPCs; or, as ABC News puts it, he is their “crusading savior.”
Most of the people I hang out with, when Q Anon is mentioned, will respond with either a furrowed brow and a “Huh??” or an eye roll and a “Pffft.” The scary thing, however, is that since I’m rather selective, as I imagine you are, about the people I hang out with, my circle is probably not an accurate sampling of the population at large. The list believed to be part of the SWPC Clique include, but is not limited to, Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, George Soros, Oprah Winfrey, Tom Hanks, Ellen DeGeneres, Pope Francis, and the Dalai Lama (New York Times 8/20).
Various sources estimate the number of Q Anon followers–that is, the ones who actually believe Tom Hanks and Barack Obama worship Satan and eat children–in the hundreds of thousands to the millions. So while your immediate circle of friends may not include any QAnon types, that person behind you in the grocery store checkout line, the person ringing up your groceries, that sweet old couple next-door, your hair stylist, your dentist (I’ve always suspected they’re aliens), the people in the house down the street that you tell your kids to stay away from, or even the slightly odd person sitting on the pew beside you (pre-COVID of course) scrolling on their phone during the minister’s sermon. If the estimates are accurate, we’re all sure to encounter a few.
So what is it that these followers are following? “Q” is allegedly a high-ranking intelligence officer who has infiltrated the deep state in order to expose and destroy it. The person first started posting on an Internet message board in October 2017 under the name Q Clearance Patriot, later shortened to just “Q.” Q is the Department of Energy’s designation for Top Secret Restricted Data, National Security Information, and Secret Restricted Data–meant to suggest that this person has access to all of the most highly classified information possessed by the United States intelligence community.
No one knows who this person is (that’s the Anon part), but he or she sends out coded information as marching orders to the faithful. Q posts these coded messages on Internet boards; the posts are called “bread crumbs” or “Q drops.” There are even Q drop apps which collect all of the crumbs and notify the user when a new one arrives, for the highly organized wacko. The number 17 is important, because Q is the 17th letter of the alphabet and also one DT has used several times, which makes it an obvious choice for use in coded messages. Are you with me so far? Am I with me so far? This is deeply disturbing territory we’re in here.
It’s not certain whether Q is a single individual, a group, or an identity that morphs over time; but all who follow believe they are engaged in a global war against an evil cabal, which will “soon culminate in ‘The Storm’ — an appointed time when Mr. Trump would finally unmask the cabal, punish its members for their crimes and restore America to greatness” (New York Times 8/20). Hmm, does this mean MAGA is also code?
This Storm thing reminds me of “The Rapture,” something I was taught as a child in church, not exactly a conspiracy theory, but with some similarities. The story goes that Jesus will some day, when least expected, sneak up on us and beam up all of his favorites, then rain down death and destruction on all the poor saps left behind.
But back to the SWPCs and those faithful soldiers helping Donald Trump win the war against them, this is stuff that Rod Serling and Stephen King might be proud to have written; but as real-life politics, one must wonder just who the hell believes it. And more importantly, why? What does anyone gain by accepting weird fiction as reality?
In elementary school, I read the tall tales of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox. Throughout my school years, we read about the deities of various countries, most notably Greece and Rome. There was a whole horde of gods and goddesses in each of the mythologies, created by pre-scientific people as explanations for natural phenomena for which there were so far no more sophisticated explanations. Those myths survived science to become literature that captures our imaginations with epic tales of intrigue, personal rivalries, sex, and war.
After President Kennedy was assassinated, conspiracy theories abounded, because humans always crave explanations when tragedy strikes; we need something that makes sense of a senseless act. According to some theories, he was still alive but gravely wounded. I met someone who told me she had heard first-hand from a family member that the wing of the Dallas hospital in which Kennedy had “allegedly” died was closed for months afterward, suggesting he was still there. I even heard that Jackie married Aristotle Onassis only because he owned a private island where she could keep her invalid husband. And then of course, there was the whole string of theories about who really shot him and why.
The thing that makes tall tales, epic stories of mythology, a faked Mars landing, and a dead president who wasn’t really dead relatively harmless is that they are either clearly fiction or they’re isolated theories confined to small groups or to individuals. What Donald Trump and the modern Republican Party have done for conspiracy theories is to take them mainstream. The number of followers is huge and growing daily.
Just this week, Marjorie Taylor Greene won a Georgia primary for a seat in Congress; and most pundits think she has a strong chance at winning in the general election. So Q Anon goes to Congress. It doesn’t get much more mainstream than that. These people will make the Tea Party look like a tea party.
Second on the not-at-all-shocking list is that Donald Trump likes these people because they like him. When asked at a White House briefing what he thinks of them, he responded, “I’ve heard these are people that love our country. So I don’t know really anything about it other than they do supposedly like me.” Well, then, they’re okay. DT’s sole criterion for a person or group’s legitimacy is how much they like him. His buddy Vlad calls him frequently, Kim Jong Un writes him beautiful letters, and Q Anon peeps like him. What else is there to know? Meanwhile, he spins his own conspiracies that Barack Obama and Kamala Harris are not natural citizens and–this morning’s gem–that Joe Biden was not born in Scranton, Pennsylvania.
There is just one word of caution which I think should be mentioned here. Like the term “fake news,” which was coined to name a specific type of information of which all should be wary but now is the aspersion cast at anything unfavorable to our own biases, “conspiracy theory” can also lose its meaning if used indiscriminately.
There’s a difference between an alternate theory and a conspiracy theory. Alternate theories are often breakthroughs that lead us to “think outside the box,” to open our minds to possibilities. Conspiracy theories have no redeeming value. When a thinking person questions the accuracy or legitimacy of a mainstream opinion and decides to challenge it, that person does some research and presents their alternate theory grounded in the factual evidence which led to the theory. That theorist will make a logical argument to explain and defend the validity of their conclusion. A conspiracy theorist can make no such argument because conspiracy theories are never based on fact.
By definition, a conspiracy theory can’t have factual evidence to support it. Brittanica.com defines the term as “an attempt to explain harmful or tragic events as the result of the actions of a small, powerful group. Such explanations reject the accepted narrative surrounding those events; indeed, the official version may be seen as further proof of the conspiracy.” Such theories, then, seem to be the concoctions of suspicious minds, not the conclusions of rational thought.
In science, a theory is
“a well-substantiated explanation of an aspect of the natural world that can incorporate laws, hypotheses and facts. The theory of gravitation, for instance, explains why apples fall from trees and astronauts float in space. . . . A theory not only explains known facts; it also allows scientists to make predictions of what they should observe if a theory is true. Scientific theories are testable. New evidence should be compatible with a theory. If it isn’t, the theory is refined or rejected.” (American Museum of Natural History website)
Conspiracy theories are closer to paranoia–“suspicion and mistrust of people or their actions without evidence or justification”–than to scientific theory (definition from online dictionary). Isn’t it interesting that many of the same people who call wearing a mask to prevent the spread of disease “living in fear” see watching message boards for coded messages about Satan-worshiping pedophilic cannibals perfectly reasonable. They ain’t afraid of nothin’.
My favorite Friday night TV show in the early 1960s was The Twilight Zone, though I often slept lightly after watching it. At the beginning of each episode, Rod Serling, the writer of the series, looked into the camera and laid the premise for what was to come. His introduction changed slightly over the years, but this is one version which seems eerily relevant today:
“You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You’re moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You’ve just crossed over into… the Twilight Zone.”
Most days over the last four years, and most intensely since January of this year, I’ve felt we crossed that line and are deep into the Zone. I don’t recall Rod Serling telling viewers how to get out of the Twilight Zone; but I fervently hope we can find the map, because I’ve had enough of living in a world where everything feels surreal, where I don’t even recognize my native country, where citizens are divided into warring tribes, and where we have a president who fans the flames of division. Enough.
Vote on November 3 like your life depends on it. (It does.)