Who is Afraid of Conspiracy Theories?
By Lance Dehaven-Smith, Ph.D.
In his book Philosophical Investigations, philosopher of
science Ludwig Wittgenstein demonstrated that words are more than designations
or labels. They are signals in a context of activity, and are invested with
many assumptions about the roles and social status of speakers and listeners.
In the 20th century, men often called women “girls.” This
term, while indeed referring to something real – to women – was more than
merely a label; it was demeaning and implicitly conveyed a subservient status.
Wittgenstein called the common sense view of words standing for things, the
“naming theory of language.” However, he pointed out, if words were merely
labels, you could not teach language to children. If you pointed at a table and
said “table,” how would a child know you are referring to the piece of
furniture and not to the rectangular shape of its top, or the table’s colour,
or its hardness, or any number of other attributes? Language is taught in the
context of activity. You say to the child, “the cup is on the table,” “slide
the cup across the table top,” “I am setting the table for dinner,” and slowly
the child learns what a table is and how the word table is used. Wittgenstein’s
observation may seem simple, but it posed a profound challenge to all of
Western philosophy since Plato, who had asked: What is beauty? What is truth?
What is justice? Wittgenstein’s critique of the naming theory of language
suggested these were the wrong questions. What needs philosophical
investigation is who uses such words in what circumstances and with what
implications.
The term conspiracy theory did not exist as a phrase in
everyday conversation before 1964. The conspiracy theory label entered the
lexicon of political speech as a catchall for criticisms of the Warren
Commission’s conclusion that US President Kennedy was assassinated by a lone
gunman with no assistance from, or foreknowledge by any element of the United
States government. Since then, the term’s prevalence and range of application
have exploded. In 1964, the year the Warren Commission issued its report, the
New York Times published five stories in which conspiracy theory appeared. In
recent years, the phrase has occurred in over 140 New York Times stories
annually. On Amazon.com, the term is a book category that includes in excess of
1,300 titles. In addition to books on conspiracy theories of particular events,
there are conspiracy theory encyclopedias, photographic compendiums, website
directories, and guides for researchers, sceptics and debunkers. Initially,
conspiracy theories were not an object of ridicule and hostility. Today,
however, the conspiracy theory label is employed routinely to dismiss a wide
range of anti-government suspicions as symptoms of impaired thinking akin to
superstition or mental illness. For example, in his 2007 book on the
assassination of President Kennedy, former prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi says
people who believe JFK conspiracy theories are “as kooky as a three dollar bill
in their beliefs and paranoia.” Similarly, in Among the Truthers, Canadian
journalist Jonathan Kay refers to 9/11 conspiracy theorists as “political
paranoiacs” who have “lost their grip on the real world.” Making a similar
point, if more colourfully, in his popular book Wingnuts journalist John Avlon
refers to conspiracy believers as “moonbats,” “Hatriots,” “wingnuts,” and the
“Fright Wing.”
As these examples illustrate, conspiracy deniers adhere
unwittingly to the naming theory of language. They assume that what qualifies
as a conspiracy theory is self-evident. In their view, the phrase conspiracy
theory as it is conventionally understood, simply names this objectively
identifiable phenomenon. Conspiracy theories are supposedly easy to spot
because they posit secret plots that are too wacky to be taken seriously. Indeed,
the theories are deemed so far-fetched they require no reply or rejoinder; they
are objects of derision, not ideas for discussion. In short, while ridiculing
conspiracy beliefs, conspiracy deniers take the conspiracy theory concept
itself for granted.
This is remarkable, not to say shocking, because the concept
is both fundamentally flawed and in direct conflict with English legal and
political traditions. As a label for irrational political suspicions about
secret plots by powerful people, the concept is obviously defective because
political conspiracies in high office do, in fact, happen. Officials in the
Nixon administration did conspire to steal the 1972 presidential election.
Officials in the Reagan administration did participate in a criminal scheme to
sell arms to Iran and channel profits to the Contras, a rebel army in
Nicaragua. The Bush-Cheney administration did collude to mislead Congress and
the public about the strength of its evidence for Iraqi weapons of mass
destruction. If some conspiracy theories are true, then it is nonsensical to
dismiss all unsubstantiated suspicions of elite intrigue as false by
definition. This fatal defect in the conspiracy theory concept makes it all the
more surprising that most scholars and journalists have failed to notice that
their use of the term to ridicule suspicions of elite political criminality
betrays the civic ethos inherited from British legal and political traditions.
The Magna Carta placed limitations on the King, guaranteed trial by one’s
peers, assigned historic revenue sources to London, and in other ways
recognised the dangers of unrestrained political authority. More generally, the
political institutions of the English speaking peoples presuppose political
power is a corrupting influence which makes political conspiracies against the
people’s interests and liberties almost inevitable. One of the most important
questions in Western political thought is how to prevent top leaders from
abusing their powers to impose arbitrary rule or tyranny. The men and women who
fought for citizens’ rights, the rule of law, and constitutional systems of
checks and balances would view today’s norms against conspiratorial suspicion
as not only arrogant, but also dangerous and historically illiterate.
The founders of English legal and political traditions would
also be shocked that conspiracy deniers attack and ridicule individuals who
voice conspiracy beliefs, and yet ignore institutional purveyors of
conspiratorial ideas, even though the latter are the ideas that have proven
truly dangerous in modern history. Since at least the end of World War II, the
citadel of theories alleging nefarious political conspiracies has been, not
amateur investigators of the Kennedy assassination and other political crimes
and tragedies, but political elites and governments. In the first three decades
of the post-World War II era, officials asserted that communists were
conspiring to take over the world, Western governments were riddled with Soviet
spies, and various social movements of the 1960s were creatures of Soviet
influence. More recently, Western governments have accepted US claims that Iraq
was complicit in 9/11, failed to dispose of its biological weapons, and
attempted to purchase uranium in Niger so it could construct nuclear bombs.
Although these ideas were untrue, they influenced millions of people, fomented
social panic, fuelled wars, and resulted in massive loss of life and
destruction of property. If conspiracy deniers are so concerned about the
dangers of conspiratorial suspicions in politics and civic culture, why have
they ignored the conspiracism of top politicians and administrators?
In my book Conspiracy Theory in America, I reorient analysis
of the phenomenon that has been assigned the derisive label of conspiracy theory.
In a 2006 peer-reviewed journal article, I introduced the concept of State
Crimes Against Democracy (SCAD) to displace the term conspiracy theory. I say
displace rather than replace because SCAD is not another name for conspiracy
theory; it is a name for the type of wrongdoing which the conspiracy theory
label discourages us from speaking. Basically, the term conspiracy theory is
applied pejoratively to allegations of official wrongdoing that have not been
substantiated by public officials themselves. Deployed as a derogatory putdown,
the label is a verbal defence mechanism used by political elites to suppress
mass suspicions that inevitably arise when shocking political crimes benefit
top leaders or play into their agendas, especially when those same officials
are in control of agencies responsible for preventing the events in question,
or for investigating them after they have occurred. It is only natural to
wonder about possible deception when a US president and vice president bent on
war in the Middle East are warned of impending terrorist attacks, and yet fail
to alert the public or increase the readiness of their own and allies’ armed
forces. Why would people not expect answers when Arabs with poor piloting
skills manage to hijack four planes, fly them across the eastern United States,
somehow evade America’s multilayered system of air defence, and then crash two
of the planes into the World Trade Center in New York City and one into the
Pentagon in Washington, DC? By the same token, it is only natural to question
the motives of President Bush and Vice President Cheney when they dragged their
feet investigating this seemingly inexplicable defence failure and then, when
the investigation was finally conducted, they insisted on testifying together,
in secret, and not under oath. Certainly, citizen distrust can be unwarranted
and overwrought, but often citizen doubts make sense. People around the world
are not crazy to want answers when a US president is assassinated by a lone
gunman with mediocre shooting skills who manages to get off several lucky shots
with an old bolt-action carbine that had a misaligned scope. Why would there
not be doubts when an alleged assassin is apprehended, publicly claims he is
just a patsy, interrogated for two days but no one makes a recording or even
takes notes, and then shot to death at point-blank range while in police
custody at police headquarters?
In contrast, the SCAD construct does not refer to a type of
allegation or suspicion; it refers to a special type of transgression: an
attack from within on the political system’s organising principles. For these
extremely grave crimes, English legal and political traditions use the term
high crime and included in this category is treason and conspiracies against
the people’s liberties. SCADs, high crimes, and antidemocratic conspiracies can
also be called elite political crimes and elite political criminality. The SCAD
construct is intended not to supersede traditional terminology or monopolise
conceptualisation of this phenomenon, but rather to add a descriptive term that
captures, with some specificity, the long-recognised potential for
representative democracy to be subverted by people on the inside – the very
people who have been entrusted to uphold the constitutional order. If political
conspiracies in high office do, in fact, happen; if it is therefore
unreasonable to assume conspiracy theories are, by definition, harebrained and
paranoia; if constitutional systems of checks and balances are based on the
idea that power corrupts and elite political conspiracies are likely; if,
because it ridicules suspicion, the conspiracy theory label is inconsistent
with the traditional Western ethos of vigilance against conspiracies in high
office; if, in summary, the conspiracy theory label is unreasonable and
dangerous, how did the label come to be used so widely to begin with?
Most people will be shocked to learn the conspiracy theory
label was popularised as a pejorative term by the Central Intelligence Agency
(CIA) in a global propaganda program initiated in 1967. This program was
directed at criticisms of the Warren Commission Report. The propaganda campaign
called on media corporations and journalists around the world to criticise
conspiracy theorists and raise questions about their motives and judgments. The
CIA informed its contacts that “parts of the conspiracy talk appear to be
deliberately generated by communist propagandists.” In the shadows of
McCarthyism and the Cold War, this warning about communist influence was
delivered simultaneously to hundreds of well-positioned members of the press in
a global CIA propaganda network, infusing the conspiracy theory label with
powerfully negative associations. In my book, I refer to this as the
“conspiracy theory conspiracy.”
For a more detailed exposition on the above, read Prof.
Lance DeHaven-Smith’s Conspiracy Theory in America (University of Texas Press,
2013), available from all good bookstores and online retailers.
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