Abstract
Conspiracy theory claims Trump is a secret genius who pretended to collude with Russia to defeat child traffickers. Tale has been repeated by prominent supporters of the president.
Thus reads a headline and byline in the British newspaper The Independent (7 April 2018), admittedly not published on its front page or in capital letters, which we would expect from tabloid reporting. However, this does not diminish its sensational quality, or its attraction, however lurid. In Aaron John Gulyas’ Conspiracy Theories: The Roots, Themes and Propagation of Paranoid Political and Cultural Narratives, ‘lurid’ is a key word. For Gulyas, a history teacher at a community college in Flint, Michigan, lurid marks the moment in the telling of a story when it starts to shade into a tale, tasteless and tall that ends up becoming a conspiracy theory, labelled and dismissed as such by its listener(s). In distinguishing between the story and the theory, Gulyas creates the space to investigate why, how and when a good story becomes a bad theory, a conspiracy theory. However, this does not diminish its appeal as a shady story that lures us in, or that finds its way around. Gulyas thus opens up space to think about stories beyond embracing them. His book invites us to think about some of the less savoury and potentially dangerous qualities involved in stories and storytelling, including their circulation, thereby highlighting their darker side.
This is not to say that Gulyas’ book is, therefore, aimed at dismissing conspiracy theories, or at drowning out their voices. The book’s issue is not with conspiracy theories, but with the ‘pop cultural treatments’ conspiracy theories receive, to the extent that they ‘invite and encourage viewers and readers to accept their claims uncritically’ (p. 3). Taking them seriously instead, also in the attempt to create transparency, Gulyas traces and documents how certain conspiracy theories came to be. To this end, he disentangles what is true from what is not, which means peeling them back to ‘a kernel of historical truth’ (p. 18). Consequently, each individual chapter is rich in descriptive detail that provides ‘background information’ on the historical roots of a variety of conspiracy theories that emerged in the United States during the past half century. The exception is the first chapter on secret societies, that reaches further back to their roots in, and dedication to, ‘radical change along the lines laid down by Enlightenment principles’ (p. 24). The conspiracy theories he singles out across the remaining chapters refer to those that implicate new world orders (Chapter 2), aliens from outer space (Chapter 3), mind control (Chapter 4), science (Chapter 5) and the Nazis (Chapter 6). He furthermore alerts the reader to how the different conspiracy theories are connected over time, without sounding himself like a conspiracy theorist who thinks everything is connected, too. His tone is not conspiring or ideological, hinting at imaginary relationships. Overall, his is an even, sober and restrained account, not buzzing or whispering with speculation, nor indeed sensationalist.
The purpose of the book is not just to be informative, and Gulyas simultaneously approaches conspiracy theories analytically to shed light on the narrative qualities of conspiracy theories, and consequently makes the case for their propagation, as indicated in the title. That is, it seeks an answer to why the story spreads, or otherwise is repeated and not just by supporters of the theory. As Gulyas’ brief literature review reveals, research on conspiracy theories as narratives and their narrative qualities suffers from scholarly neglect, compared against interest in and debate on their epistemological or political status. The neglect is surprising, because narrative qualities contribute towards making conspiracy theories more or less effective as plausible explanations. This, in turn, creates critical leverage epistemologically and politically speaking for conspiracy theorists, and those dismissing or contesting them. That is, certain qualities add to, or diminish, the theory’s merit as a claim to knowledge. This also matters politically speaking, because the theory is an alternative, non-expert claim to knowledge in need of legitimacy to escape implausibility and its marginalization.
Specifically, Gulyas seeks to ‘illuminate’” (p. 15) how starting from historical origins or roots (‘kernels of truth’) we end up with stories that ‘twist and turn’ into an ‘endlessly winding trail’ (p. 19) that in due course derails to become a conspiracy theory. He asks in the introduction:
Can we pinpoint the moment where the narrative goes off the rails? Are we able to find where, why, and how the narrative moves from an odd and often dark page of American history to a paranoid sideshow? (p. 18)
Broadly speaking, in terms of why the story derails, Gulyas suggests in the introduction that it happens, because and when ‘the commonly accepted and documented historical record becomes unable to bear the weight of sensationalism’ (p. 18). From the following chapters, it can be inferred that who, or what, brings this weight to bear down on conspiracy theories are popular mass media that exploit the theories for sensation, a thrill. Sensationalism is grist for their publicity mill even if, or rather because, the theories are not credible scientifically speaking, which is how most of us distance ourselves from them. He also associates the moment of derailment with what can be attributed to aesthetic judgement when he refers to the story as ‘lurid’ to signal that the account has lost him. The story has taken on bad taste, whether eventually to the point of disgust is not clear, nor why it may attract us still despite this.
What else is not clear in the book is what makes a story open to exploitation as a potentially sensational story, such as whether for instance a narrative quality to do with the disclosure of secrets offers this opportunity. It is also not clear how sensation affects derailment, where and when the story becomes too sensational, given that a narrator has a certain poetic licence as stipulated by the concept of the narrative contract (Gabriel, 2004). This contract gives her a certain freedom, to ‘twist and turn’, but also ‘to draw connections where none are apparent’, ‘to exaggerate’, ‘to elaborate’, ‘to display emotion’ (Gabriel, 2004, p. 19). It also makes her have to answer to the question ‘did it really (happen)?’ And ‘so what?’ In other words, after how many twists and turns does the story start to buckle under its weight, the cumulative effect of which would count towards sensationalism? In other words, what makes a story sensational is its twists and turns as well as the revelation of secrets. In terms of ‘connecting the dots’, are details, widely recognized as key to conspiracy theorizing, a narrative quality that could be exploited as sensationalizing? How does exaggeration contribute towards sensationalism, either by thrilling us too, or not doing so at all?
Thus, while sensationalism is made to account for why a story derails, how and where it happens is left unanswered in the book. I regret that Gulyas does not interrogate the moment of narrative breakdown in terms of the narrative contract, how the story derails, but also in relation to when it happens, which signals the breakdown in credibility. This breakdown is the moment when the story as a theory starts losing its momentum for critical judgement and empirical investigation. In becoming sensational, it crosses the boundary from the credible into the (increasingly) incredible, which we cannot question or test empirically. Or rather, we are no longer encouraged, or invited, to wonder whether it really happened or not when we enter the domain of the incredible.
Probing this moment would have strengthened his analysis by connecting narrative qualities with epistemological concerns, not just adding to them and to political concerns. For in the distinction between the credible and incredible, we are given a measure against which to assess the merits of a conspiracy theory. Not in terms of whether or not the theory rings true, given how the story ends up being incredible on the whole. But what about the story still makes sense as potentially true or accurate towards establishing knowledge claims seeing how sensationalism also affects accuracy, not just credibility. Hence, what about the theory is legitimate cause for scepticism, concern and investigation? After all, if conspiracy theorizing is critical thinking ‘turned up to 11’ (p. 140), ‘extreme skepticism’ (p. 140), then some aspects or parts of the story deserve to be rescued for critical thinking, scepticism, and empiricism. Parts presumably from before the moment we no longer believe what we are hearing, unless this casts a shadow over everything, which challenges us to sensitize our senses, detecting skills, and hone our methods. ‘Parts’ beyond the ‘kernel of truth’, like a single dot or detail, for instance, which in terms of its significance potentially extends and deepens our understanding of what is happening by starting its own story, once observed and placed under investigation.
I also regret that Gulyas does not pause to draw out the significance of credibility in relation to political concerns that he alludes to in the introduction: conspiracy theories are also ‘to a certain degree, a political act and an attempt at agency for groups that are either marginalized or that, at least, perceive themselves as marginalized’ (p. 6). Putting the credibility of a story at stake over and against sensationalism, as something to be decided on, we suspend marginalization and discrimination, the unequal distribution of social positions and the resultant inequality. Undecided, listening, in suspension, we extend equality instead. Thus, Gulyas offers ‘conspiracy theorists’ a window of opportunity to be heard, as equally believable to those with the authority and voice to be heard. Here, a political intervention shimmers rather than ‘shines through’ in the book (Lindebaum, Pérezts, & Andersson, 2018), namely, the democratizing impact of listening. When we listen to those we otherwise marginalize we recognize them, in this case as equally qualified or able to know. Listening, we potentially change the way we organize ourselves by suspending inequality, however temporarily. In polishing up the connection with the political stakes involved, Gulyas could have added some shine to this shimmer in connection to his chapter on secret societies. In the minds of the fearful and conservative establishment, secret societies were suspected of aiming to dismantle the (political and religious) power structures they inhabited. While suspending inequality does not deliver on such desired lasting effect, it does pay tribute to the impulse towards emancipatory social change that surrounds the historical origins of conspiracy theories.
Finally, credibility matters, because by putting it at stake, we are no longer relieved from the responsibility of having to take a stance, decide on what we believe to be the case. It is from credibility that the storyteller and narrative knowledge derive their authority. Listening, we are being asked to make up our mind, as opposed to relying on expert knowledge exclusively, for instance. We also have to make up our mind whether we repeat and circulate the story, especially when it lacks credibility, which does not diminish its allure, in the same way we participate in gossip. Thus, even if it may not have happened realistically, theoretically speaking, we may still repeat the shady theory as a story. We may repeat it, not in (scholarly) support of it, but because of its sensational qualities, however lurid. Why supporters of the theory would repeat a shady story they believe to be true merits some thought too. While sensational qualities thrill and excite, they do not rally people on behalf of conspiracy theories, unlike fear. Across the chapters Gulyas addresses the fears that permeate conspiracy theories, coming out of their pores. The fears he identifies are fear of subjugation, domination and control, all of which topics are of keen interest to organization studies scholars. Responsible for the threat that incites fear, which in turn fuels suspicion, mistrust and paranoia are: insiders, (hidden) elites (scholarly, political, financial, religious), including the rich and powerful, robotoids, shape-shifting humanoid reptilian beings, and the United Nations. The threat and fear of being taken over also signals what conspiracy theorists are attached to and fear losing, namely, liberty and freedom as well as sovereignty. To prevent this from happening, fear draws and maintains boundaries. Erected by fear, boundaries are sacred around the nation behind which the population is kept secure against threats from outsiders. Yet, this fear cannot get hold unless listeners are open to it, smelling it, nostrils being unsecured openings. Openings that by smelling fear feed into fearful stories and reinforce both the fear and the story as fearful. The smell of fear, being sensational in this sense, allows for conspiracy theories to gather momentum, which contributes towards their propagation while gathering support along the way. Thus, while conspiracy theorists are fearful over the loss of control over boundaries, the loss has already happened insofar as our sense of smell does not respect them. Furthermore, conspiracy theories are not harmless stories, and can be exploited, not only to make for sensational stories, but also to therefore further incite fear. Unfortunately, many aspiring political leaders today appeal to conspiracy theories towards this end, to then offer their leadership as protection and for security, as part of their politics of fear.
Gulyas, in creating space between story and conspiracy theory, creates solid ground to engage meaningfully and critically with stories and theories outside our comfort zone. He demonstrates that stories are not all good, and that conspiracy theories are not all bad in offering another way of experiencing the world. In conclusion then, organization theorists and scholars studying organizational narratives, stories and myths will find much of interest in this book, because Gulyas offers significant insights into a genre of narrative, the conspiracy theory that has not received the attention it deserves. Those scholars interested in emotions as well as organizations and organizing will be interested in the politics of fear that Gulyas draws our attention to. These politics, in turn, are of interest to those concerned with organizational politics, and add a twist to leadership studies that otherwise glorify leaders. Finally, given that most conspiracy theories revolve around a particular image of the conspirational organization, the examples of such organizations the book contains offer fertile ground for the study of secretive and paranoid organizations and organizing more broadly speaking.