On Conspiracies & Connection

We find ourselves adrift in an ocean of information. Yet paradoxically, this abundance has not led to greater clarity, but to a fragmentation of reality itself. The internet at its best is a great democratizer of knowledge. At its worst, a breeding ground for conspiracy theories and misinformation, now euphemistically termed "alternative facts."

I've experienced firsthand how persuasive and alluring these alternative narratives can be, especially when presented by someone in a position of authority. In high school, I had a young, well-educated teacher who taught both history and archaeology. One day, she centered a computer monitor in front of the class and pulled up the website, Infowars. She played a video narrated by a deep voice with menacing music, claiming that the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center towers was a conspiracy perpetrated by the US government to fuel a war with Saddam Hussein.

For weeks, she continued to expose our class to this material, challenging us to prove it wasn't true. It was clear she believed these theories and thought she was opening our eyes to the real truth. She believed she was making a real, positive difference in our lives. This experience sent me down a dark rabbit hole of other conspiracy theories for at least a year, involving topics like Tupac's murder and the moon landing. I found corners of the internet that are dark and irredeemable. Fortunately, I quickly learned it was a sandtrap and pulled myself out.

This personal encounter with conspiracy theories taught me two crucial lessons: first, how compelling these narratives can be, especially when endorsed by those we trust; and second, how important it is to develop critical thinking skills to navigate the vast ocean of information available to us.

This is not merely an abstract concern. For many of us, including myself, it has become a personal issue that strikes at the heart of our closest relationships. I've watched as family members and old friends, people I love and respect, have become entangled in webs of unsubstantiated claims and dubious narratives. They share these "truths" with conviction, both in person and on social media, treating them as revelations suppressed by mainstream media.

The allure of these alternative realities is powerful, and recent research has shed light on why some individuals might be more susceptible to their appeal. Interestingly, our personality traits may play a significant role. Studies have shown that certain characteristics from the Big Five personality model, such as low openness to experience and high neuroticism, are associated with a greater tendency to believe in conspiracy theories.

Moreover, individuals with a high need for cognitive closure – a desire for clear, definite answers as opposed to ambiguity – are more likely to embrace conspiracy theories when such theories are readily available. This aligns with the observation that conspiracy theories often offer simple but reinforcing explanations for complex problems. This provides a sense of certainty in an uncertain world.

As Douglas et al. note, conspiracy theories fulfill basic psychological needs, offering certainty in an uncertain world and a sense of control when we feel powerless. They provide explanations for complex problems, insider knowledge, and often align with pre-existing beliefs or biases. In essence, they serve epistemic motives (the need to know and understand), existential motives (the need for control and security), and social motives (the need to maintain a positive image of the self and the ingroup).

But the cost of these beliefs is high. They create divides where there should be connections, and sow distrust where there should be understanding. I've found myself disengaging from conversations, and withdrawing from social media platforms like Facebook, all to avoid the frustration and conflict that seem inevitable when these topics arise.

Yet, in this withdrawal, I realize I may be contributing to the problem I hope to solve. As Fong et al. suggest, the formation of echo chambers - where we only engage with those who share our views - can reinforce and amplify these alternative narratives. By disengaging, we risk further entrenching these divides.

So what can we do if don't want to give up on relationships? How do we set aside our cynicism and attempt to bridge this chasm of understanding?

The answer is not one I like. It lies not in withdrawal but in engagement. Not in silence, but in open, honest communication. As difficult as it may be, it is only through genuine dialogue that we can hope to build real relationships, foster mutual understanding, and perhaps even change minds - including our own. If we want to have real relationships with people who believe differently than us, we have to talk.

This doesn't mean accepting or validating harmful or false beliefs. Instead, it means approaching these conversations with empathy and curiosity. As Kate Starbird suggests, we need to "keep those bridges open or keep throwing out the life buoys and say, 'I'm here. Let's talk about it if we can.'"

It means recognizing that behind every conspiracy theory is a person - often someone we care about - who is trying to make sense of a complex and sometimes frightening world. By approaching these conversations with compassion rather than confrontation, we create space for real connection and understanding.

We might ask questions like:

• What do you think would happen if this theory turned out not to be true?
• Are there any aspects of this theory that you're uncertain about or that don't quite make sense to you?
• What kind of evidence would you need to see to change your mind about this?

This approach requires patience and resilience. It means being willing to listen without judgment, and to ask questions rather than make accusations. It means focusing on shared values and experiences rather than points of disagreement. And perhaps most importantly, it means being willing to examine our own beliefs and biases with the same critical eye we turn on others.

We can share our feelings using "I" statements to express our thoughts and concerns without attacking theirs. We can find common ground by highlighting shared values or concerns, even if we disagree on the details. And instead of immediately countering with facts, we can ask about their sources of information and how they evaluate evidence.

Understanding the psychological underpinnings of conspiracy beliefs can inform our approach. Rather than simply debunking false claims, we might focus on addressing the underlying needs for certainty, understanding, and control in more constructive ways. We can acknowledge the complexity and uncertainty of the world while also emphasizing the reliable methods we have for understanding it.

In the end, the path to truth in this age of alternative realities lies not in more information, but in more connection. It lies in our willingness to engage with those who see the world differently, to listen deeply, and to speak honestly. It lies in our courage to step out of our echo chambers and into the messy, complex, but perhaps rewarding world of genuine human connection.

Our shared humanity is more powerful than any divisive ideology. In the words of Eckhart Tolle, "Acknowledging the good that you already have in your life is the foundation for all abundance." Perhaps by acknowledging the good in each other, even when we disagree, we can build a foundation for a shared reality based on mutual understanding and respect.