Suspicious Minds

Suspicious Minds: Why We Believe Conspiracy Theories
304 pages
© 2015 Rob Brotherton

We’re caught in a trap, and we can’t walk out*. Our brains orient us towards belief. No sex, no political leaning, no cultural demographic has a monopoly on conspiracy thinking — and while that can be either comforting or disturbing, depending on what implications we dwell on, it has to make a fella wonder: why? Why do we connect dots with lines that aren’t there, indue other people’s actions with purpose drawn straight from our heads, and crave above all some grand narrative that makes a tidy story out of our messy universe? The answer, Rob Brotherton argues, lies in our brain’s heavy reliance on mental shortcuts and biases. Conspiracism is the lens through which we see the world; the trick is that we all have slightly different prescriptions.

Brotherton opens by analyzing what makes a conspiracy theory different from any other explanation, reviewing pertinent characteristics of conspiratorial thinking. Brotherton holds there are six distinctive aspects of a conspiracy theory, and concludes: “The’prototypical conspiracy theory is an unanswered question; it assumes nothing is at it seems; it portrays the conspirators as preternaturally competent; and as unusually evil; it is founded on anomaly hunting; and it is ultimately irrefutable.” Interestingly, people who believe in one conspiracy theory are more likely to believe in others, and theories often interconnect to create ever-larger schemes, until eventually one’s wall is covered with pictures and documents with red yarn asserting connections between them.

Although Brotherton argues that we’re all born conspirators, conspiratorial thinking is more likely to dominate individuals who are in isolated, stressed conditions. The less materially comfortable and more socially isolated a person, the more likely they are to believe that things are set against them. When our sense of control is threatened, we are more likely to be paranoid. Brotherton suggests that dwelling on conspiracy theories is something of a comfort mechanism, ’empowering’ the theorist by making them believe they’re seeing through the lies, and explaining their disadvantages by blaming them on someone else. Stepping back from the specific subject at hand and thinking more generally — drawing on biology — the connection between comfort and paranoia makes perfect sense. An apex predator with no competition and plenty of food has no reason to be wary, but a stressed mouse at the bottom of the chain does. One is far more skittish than the other, more likely to interpret threats when there are none: it pays to be paranoid when you’re a mouse. While humans regard ourselves as being at the top of the heap these days, our ancestors lived in a far more dangerous world, filled with predators who were only happy to make a meal out of muscly bipeds.

Throughout the book, Brotherton reviews various other aspects of human cognition that make conspiracies easy to invent and latch on to. We’re a story-telling species whose brains are constantly involved in constructing the reality we live in — whose brains have been tailored by the stress of ages to look for and act on patterns immediately. Any connections are meaningful by default, unless we actively have a reason for doubting them, and that means we can interpret mere motive as evidence of wrongdoing. Other biases are at work: when something dramatic happens, like a presidential assassination that changes the world, we expect that drama to have been effected by an elaborate conspiracy with long-term goals, not a lone crank with a rifle. (Nearly 80% of Americans believe the JFK assassination involved more conspirators than Oswald.) We are not systematic, logical thinkers by default: without training, we look for evidence that supports a positive assertion, not evidence that can falsify something we already suspect — and we tend to interpret new information in the light of what we already believe. Brotherton also believes that the overwhelming complexity of the world, and frustrating loss of intellectual autonomy because of that, lures people into conspiracy theories: they offer the satisfaction of comprehensive knowledge with far less work: there’s just enough winnowing-out of the conspiracy’s secrets to satisfy the intellectually curious to make it fun.

Though thinking about thinking has its challenges, the influence of conspiracy theories on contemporary politics across the spectrum makes them important to understand. We’re all complicit in contributing to them, and a book like this is invaluable it not only understanding why sensible people can sometimes believe extraordinarily odd things, but to check ourselves from time to time.

* This book has been on my TBR list for three years, and every time I thought of it, I’d have Elvis in my head for the rest of the day. I sincerely hope my offering of that intro sentence appeases the gods and lets me escape the ear-worm of “Suspicious Minds“.

Related:
The Skeptic’s Guide to the Universe, Steven Novella et. al
The Believing Brain: How we Construct Beliefs and Reinforce Them as Truths, Michael Shermer

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Scaling Mount Doom: November 2020

After three months of ruthlessly driving the enemy before me, my advance on the Pile of Doom has er…not been so advance-y. Here is hoping that I have not met my Marne.

TBR Books Read in November:
Defeat in the West, Milton Shulman
The Afghan Campaign, Steven Pressfield

TBR Scheduled for December
The Ends of the Earth: The Polar Regions of the World, Isaac Asimov
Silent Night: The Story of the World War I Christmas Truce, Stanley Weintraub

Reward Books Purchased:
In Search of Zarathustra: Across Iran and Central Asia to find the World’s First Prophet, Paul Kriawazek, This is one I’ve debated buying for years… I don’t think it has enough content to satisfy me, but I at least want to give it a shot.
The World-Ending Fire: The Essential Wendell Berry, ed. Paul Kingsnorth.

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Monday musings: games, books, and hikes

Reading has slowed down as of late, between Thanksgiving, weekend hikes, and another round of computer upgrades. I’m now running on a SSD, and was able to resolve a power issue that prevented me from playing PC Building Simulator or Civilization 6. I also have a little drawer in my computer to use to hold flash drives now! In book news, regular reading was paused for some new library acquisitions, and I’m almost done planning my Classics Club Strikes Back bookist; I only need 1 more to complete the set of fifty, and I’m trying to decide between a few contenders. This one is less ambitious but more fun, with a lot of American and Southern lit, and a few SF reads. Next year’s science reading is already planned out, with no shortage of possibilities. Coming up this week: the last of the Saxon Chronicles, possibly something Adventy, and who knows?

Cahaba River Wildlife Refuge. I visited here in May to see the Cahaba lilies bloom; it’s rather different today!
You can see where some of the lilie stands were in this shot. They’ll be back in May…and so will I.
The view from atop a waterfall in Shelby County. Accessible from County Rd 22, but you have to know where you’re going as there’s no official trail here, just a known path through former logging roads and then an unmarked path through the woods.
A machine in the garden kind of image. This was on my first trip to the falls, when I’d found the path to the top but hadn’t found how to get to the bottom yet.

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Ready Player Two: Spoiler Free

Ready Player Two
© Ernest Cline
384 pages


Ready Player One remains one of my favorite novels, ever; for me it is the Starburst jellybean of books, a perfect sweet spot between geekery and pop culture. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Ready Player Two, and glad I am that I work in a library, a position that meant I began reading it before it was officially available in stores. I will do my utmost to deliver a review without spoilers; suffice it to say that RPT is a sequel in the same way that The Force Awakens is a sequel; it’s a flashier story with a very similar plot to the original, and one sometimes more interested in proving its authors hipness than offering the reader a good story. I ended up enjoying it, but 2/3rds through when I began considering what kind of review I’d do, I was about to make a comparison to Star Wars and The Star Wars Holiday Special.

Ready Player Two opens a week after the conclusion of RPO, when Wade discovers that James Halliday, creator of the digital world in which most of society lives and works, had hidden away another piece of revolutionary technology. Halliday urges Wade to be cautious and to consider Very Carefully if he wants to share it with the world: Wade, being a teenager advised by other teenagers, immediately starts to play with it and make it public, with dramatic results. Wade thereby unwittingly triggers both a second Epic Fetch Quest and a new enemy. Although Wade/Parzival would seem to have nothing left to gain by pursing another round of trivia memorization and monster battles (He already has complete control of the Oasis and All of the Money), the new enemy ensures that he does: nothing less is at stake than the lives of his friends and the entire world.

Those who read and enjoyed Ready Player One will feel a strong sense of deja vu as characters once again start prowling around various games and simulations inspired by the programmers’ obsessions, arguing with one another over fine details as geeks are wont to do. Ready Player Two draws on far more pop culture than tech geekery, with varying results; I found some of them absolutely tedious to read about, and some far more interesting. (Featuring prominently: the John Hughes cinematic universe, Prince, and Lord of the Rings). Until the end, frankly, I was largely disappointed in the book: the winsome combination of Ready Player One‘s attractions was off, or just not as magic as it was the first time around, and some of the characters did things without reason, or were being used for Cline’s preachiness to obnoxious effect — particularly Aech, who is That Friend at college who won’t shut up about their pet issue. In the end, however, Cline introduced several elements that mostly made the reading worth it. I don’t know that I’d re-read RPT, but it may add to future re-reads of the original.

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Too Much Magic: Same arguments, different cover

Too Much Magic: Wishful Thinking, Technology, and the Fate of the Nation
© 2012 Jim Kunstler
336 pages

Twelve years ago, at the urging of my sociology professor, I attended a lecture on Peak Oil and the Future of Suburbia, by a man I realized I’d been sitting very near to at lunch. Jim Kunstler gave me a lot of food for thought that night, though a friend of mine and I agreed that he sounded a bit like a crank. He’s…particularly wound up in Too Much Magic, which rehashes much of what he’s written about before, and adds on some rants that connect, generally, to this volume’s specific grievance: a tech-religion of wishful thinking, in which all of our problems can be resolved through more innovation and technology.

Re-reading my response to that lecture in 2008 makes me realize how Kunstler has a steady, reliable train of thought; occasionally a new car is added, or some new graffiti appears along the side, but it’s the same engine and basic cargo. In The Geography of Nowhere, Kunstler delivered a full broadside against the distortion of American urbanism from big cities and small towns into an endless homogeneous mass full of cheap, fake houses and box stores with a fifteen year lifecycle. He argued that this promotion of sprawl was not only socially disastrous, but financially unsustainable, relying on cheap oil and an economy driven by expansion. In The Long Emergency, he repeated that argument, and argued that peak oil was imminent and that it would combine with climate instability to destroy global civilization as we know it. In Too Much Magic, written after the housing bubble pop and subsequent recession, Kunstler reviews his previous arguments and adds to them his interpretation of the housing bubble’s boom and bust, connecting the decades of cheap credit to his critique of suburban spawl.

When I purchased this, it was with the thought that Kunstler had examined fracking, nuclear energy, and other technological solutions and was offering his review of them; instead, it’s largely an updated retread of Kunstler’s prior arguments, which this time emphasizes how often we ignore reality for our desires, wasting time and energy chasing distractions like the AI singularity. Fracking is addressed, but not nearly to the degree that it should have given Kunstler’s steady focus on peak oil; it’s a short chapter and adds no more than you might find from reading articles at his website. Other alternative energies are dispatched with the same haste. Considering how dramatically fracking has altered the energy landscape in the last ten years (turning the US to a net energy exporter), fracking bears serious consideration. How long of a window did it create for the petroleum economy, and what kind of consequences does that kind of development have for our geologic stability and water/soil health? I don’t know, but Kunstler’s quick write-off of it here was obviously well off the mark.

In short, though I find Kunstler a stimulating and entertaining author, there’s not enough genuinely new content in Too Much Magic to bother with.

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Top Ten Tuesday: Thanksgiving

This week’s TTT has a Thanksgiving theme, and it’s a freebie so we can play around with it. I’m going full-throttle stream of thought here.

  1. I’m thankful for bookish friends who aid and abet my addiction, but more importantly, who make public their musings about the books they read. In a hurried, distracted age, I value beyond counting the company of people who can pause and reflect.
  2. I’m thankful for book publishers who are craftsman, not just McDonalds for airplane novels — who publish books with thicker, rough-cut pages, and use font printing that’s rich and makes the book a genuine art piece in its own right.
  3. I’m thankful for authors who inspire me; Isaac Asimov’s boundless curiosity and ability to write a book on anything (science, literature, religion, etymology, history, poetry — you name it) makes him a role model for a generalist like myself.
  4. Authors, continued: Wendell Berry’s deep love for the natural world and his appreciation for how we find part of our purpose in its stewardship
  5. Authors, continued: Bill Kauffman. Oh, where to begin with Kauffman? His celebration of obscure novels, obscurer words, and left-behind places; his cheerful “go to hell” attitude aimed at anyone who gets too big for their britches, his ardent love for little places and the crazy, all-too-human people within them….he’s an author I’d dearly love to hang around with in a bar listening to tell stories.
  6. Authors who take me back into time, full of horses and battle-cries and schemes and high towers to take. Bernard Cornwall is the king!
  7. Authors who provoke me thinking thinking about matters otherwise hidden to me, or help me articulate otherwise ineffable feelings; men like Jim Kunstler Neil Postman, and Anthony Esolen. I may not always agree with them (sometimes I read them just to listen, not knowing my own position enough to say aye or nay) — but they’re always interesting and appreciated.
  8. Authors whose wisdom I need, like Will Durant, C.S. Lewis, Wendell Berry (again – I love WB), who redouble my appreciation for history, literature, creation, etc.
  9. Authors who can cure what ails me, like P.G. Wodehouse. He’s never failed to lift my spirits.
  10. And finally, authors like Alain de Botton who make me realize I’m not the only one who feels the way I do sometimes. The following is from A Week at the Airport.

I explained — with the excessive exposition of a man spending a lonely week at the airport — that I was looking for the sort of books in which a genial voice expresses emotions that the reader has long felt but never before really understood; those that convey the secret, everyday things that society at large prefers to leave unsaid; those that make one feel somehow less alone and strange.

Manishankar wondered if I might like a magazine instead.”

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Selections from “A Grief Observed”

A Grief Observed was not written as a book, but was published as such from four reflective notebooks that Lewis kept while reeling from the death of his wife, Joy. The collection is raw, intimate, and personal; we find Lewis a wounded man, at times both heartbroken and angry, and self-conscious about his despair and anguish. This particular Signature edition comes with an tender introduction from David Gresham, Lewis’ stepson.

“On the rebound one passes into tears and pathos. Maudlin tears. I almost prefer the moments of agony. These are at least clean and honest. But the bath of self-pity, the wallow, the loathsome sticky-sweet pleasure of indulging it — that disgusts me. And even while I’m doing it I know it leads me to misrepresent H. herself. Give that mood its head and in a few minutes I shall have substituted for the real woman a mere doll to be blubbered over.”

“One never meets just Cancer, or War, or Unhappiness (or Happiness). One only meets each hour or moment that comes. All manner of ups and downs. Many bad spots in our best times, many good ones in our worst. One never gets the total impact of what we call ‘the thing itself’. But we call it wrongly. The thing itself is simply all these ups and downs: the rest is a name or an idea.”

“The most precious gift that marriage gave me was this constant impact of something very close and intimate yet all the time unmistakably other, resistant — in a world ,real. Is all that work to be undone? Is what I shall still call H. to sink back horribly into being not much more than one of my old bachelor pipe dreams? Oh my dear, my dear, come back for one moment and drive that miserable phantom away. Oh God, God, why did you take such trouble to force this creature out of its shell if it is now doomed to crawl back — to be sucked back — into it?”

“Feelings, feelings, and feelings. Let me try thinking instead.”

“All reality is iconoclastic. The earthly beloved, even in this life, incessantly triumphs over your mere idea of her. And you want her to; you want her with all her resistances, all her faults, all her unexpectedness. That is, in her foursquare and independent reality. And this, not any image or memory, is what we are to love still, after she is dead.”

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The Afghan Campaign

The Afghan Campaign: A Novel
© 2006 Steven Pressfield
368 pages

Afghanistan, 330 B.C. Alexander the Great, having toppled the Persian Empire and won eternal glory for himself and his men, now looks with hungry eyes to India. The way to those riches, however, must be forged through the unpredictable expanse of Afghanistan, and even veterans of Alexander’s campaigns will pause at the grim bloodshed waiting for them there. The Afghan Campaign by Steven Pressfield is easily the most visceral account of ancient warfare I’ve ever read, as we witness a young fool who joined the ranks purely to avoid shaming himself in front of his brothers, but who is baptized by blood again and again and becomes a man in full, whose soul is hardened by the violence yet full of love and devotion for his brothers in arms…and his horse. Written only a few years into the interminable American war in Afghanistan, its portayal of that land and the futility of trying to impose outside order on it, brims over with relevance fifteen years later — such is the stupidity (or cupidity) of the DC elite.

I first encountered Steven Pressfield via his excellent Gates of Fire, a story of Thermopylae, and found The Afghan Campaign to be of similar quality. Given its setting in antiquity, I’m not sure how kosher some of the historical facts are — I couldn’t tell you what history books say about the Afghan campaign — but Pressfield provides such a level of fine detail about the little things, like food and clothing, that I was wholly “in” the world he’d created. It’s a harrowing story, with such bloodshed and loss that by its end I felt tempted to read a Vietnam memoir for comparison. Two of the characters can feel themselves being changed by the war; they begin as naifs, hesitant to even strike other men, but once thrown into the the constant hell of Alexander’s campaigns, they change. Not all of their prewar selves is lost, but they become different — bonded to one another instead of dreams of their lost homes and sweethearts, accustomed to nothing but marching and killing, hardened by a hostile landscape filled with implacable enemies whose lust for liberty they cannot help but admire, even is it kills them.

This is stirring, sober reading. The cover speaks volumes. This is twice I’ve tried Pressfield and twice I’ve found his characters and story absolutely enveloping, so I will be continuing to explore his work.

The fact is clear, though no rookie other than Lucas owns the bowels to give it voice, that we have entered a crucible of the soul, of war’s horror, and that it will change us. It has changed us already. Where will it end? Who will we be then? Myself, I feel its weight nightlong inside my skull, as spectacles of slaughter re-present themselves with such ghastliness that I dare not even shut my eyes. “Part of me is dying,” says Lucas. “Something evil grows in its place. I don’t know what it is, but I fear and hate it. I fear and hate myself.”

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V-2

V-2: A Novel of World War 2
© 2020 Robert Harris
320 pages

The Wehrmacht is being pushed from western Europe, and the Waffen-SS is reeling in eastern Europe. The Luftwaffe flies no more. And yet Germany fights on, and the dreams of brilliant young men who once looked to the stars with longing are now corrupted into feeble attempts to spite the Allies by rocket-bombs. Against them, Britain has developed an experimental radar group; coupled with able use of trigonometry, the launch sites of these rockets may be exposed by math even as they hide from cameras. V-2 honors the contribution made by women like Eileen Younghusband, in a story covering the rise of the Mechelen group, pitting them against a frustrated German engineer who at every launch wishes his rockets were pushing humanity into space — not simply crashing through the roofs of Woolworths. Although not as ambitious as Harris’ other works, V-2 succeeds in its portrayal of an often-overlooked aspect of the war.

V-2 hops back and forth across the channel, putting us into the lives of an English WAAF officer, Kay Caton-Walsh, and a German engineer, Dr. Graf. Both are sympathetic sorts; Graf, despite his position in the V-2 program, finds von Braun far too happy to consort with Hitler, and is himself so unconvincing a Nazi that the SS watch him constantly. He and von Braun both were young enthusiasts for pushing humanity into space, but is even the moon a fitting reward for a man’s soul? Kay, too, has a little moral quandry; having taken up with a married wing commander, her efforts to expose the German launch sites carry double weight in proving that she didn’t just sleep her way into the experimental group, but is there through her native talent and willingness to shoulder hard work. Through them and the people they interact with, we experience the war’s deprivations, the social distress it created, and the confused loyalties.

Harris is one of my rare read-without-a-question authors, and though V-2 wasn’t nearly as ambitious and intricate as his other thrillers, I deeply enjoyed the WW2 detail, and the light it shed on the V2 program and Britain’s countermeasures against it. Historical coverage of the V2 program only appears in American history books as a curiosity, or as the prelude in books on the space race, so I was exceptionally interested in the plot here.

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Is Reality Optional?

reality

“The curious task of economics is to demonstrate to men how little they really know about what they imagine they can design.” – F.A. Hayek

From economist and cultural critic Thomas Sowell come this amusingly-titled collection of essays,  loosely gathered under the theme of pointing out inconvenient truths. The title caught my eye because society seems to become more of an obscene cartoon, a farce on the stage,  with every passing year. The essays are  presumably drawn from columns Sowell contributed to newspapers over the years,  spanning the seventies through the nineties, on a spectrum of topics:  sex ed, crime & punishment,  race, sex,  and the virtues of map projections. The title essay opens the book, as Sowell points to various movements within the US which, however well-intentioned in their motives, are unrealistic in their aims —  and irresponsible, as their actions affect not only them, but the public interest.  Also within the collection are sketches, intended as humor, with varying results.

Sowell is first and foremost an economist; I first encountered him via Basic Economics, and he uses economic principles to inform his critiques of society and culture,  particularly the observation that there are no solutions, only trade-offs. this not only means every action taken by a government, business, or person will have negative consequences,  it means we usually have to weigh things in the balance. Do we want safety?   How much safety? How many inconveniences are we willing to endure, how much are we willing to pay?   No two households come to the same balance, and will chose different options depending on how how much risk they’re willing to court, and how much money they’re willing to pay. The balancing act can be applied to anything, and it often appears in the essays — applied in his evaluation of a environmental movement, and its  useless denunciation of both fossil fuels and the only meaningful alternative, nuclear energy. (Solar & wind are not as expensive as they once were, but they’re not serious options for carrying the base load of any modern society.)

There is no point trying to appease the anointed by giving in on some particular issue they raise, because that only shifts the fight to some other issue. The basic underlying problem is that they do not live in the grubby world of trade-offs with the rest of us. They live in the loftier realms of their own minds where “solutions” prevail.

Sowell’s attitude is one of pragmatism and prudence:   it if ain’t broke, don’t fix it. People may experiment on themselves at their leisure, but trying on new social theories every other year is hubristic and irresponsible. Sowell points to the frequent changes in educational theory, in  crime mitigation, etc and to their repeated failures. Too often, he says, we replace what works with what sounds good. This is the third Sowell work I’ve read, and I find him of such great interest that I hope to continue exploring his considerable output as time goes on. Sowell’s perspective is especially powerful when writing on matters of civil rights and race, because he lived through the death of Jim Crow, the arrival of affirmative action, and so on.  As a black intellectual himself, he encountered and triumphed over both racism and ideologies which deny minorities real agency — instead insisting, ever so patronizingly, that they are the state’s wards who need special hand-holding.   (I’ve come to realize in the last ten years that the government acts like some demented jailer in regards to the working class….raising barrier after barrier to prevent people from prospering, like imposing cosmetology licensure requirements on hair-braiders, and then expecting worship when it offers half-cocked solutions to the problems of its own making — like helping the Saudis bomb Yemen, then offering aid to the survivors.  )

Unfortunately, although these essays date from the seventies, only their statistics are dated. Foolhardiness of past decades has been surpassed by even more outrageous social movements  and proposals today today, like the ‘green new deal’, a product so divorced from reality when its details are considered  that only a sheltered politician could propose it, and certain social movements in which mental issues are attempted to be ‘fixed’ by surgeries and chemical bombardment.  To believe that sex is malleable is to believe that reality itself has no substance, that the world can be made to confirm to our will.  It would be nice if we could transform the world that easily,  but reality   is obdurant. Evidenced by Sowell’s writings,   this is not a new problem with the human race, though it’s certainly a greater issue now than ever before.  At least the ancients knew that if one appealed to the gods to give them what they wanted, great sacrifice would be necessary. We seem to think it can happen with the simple passing of legislation, and the liberal application of other people’s money.

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