A couple of thoughts on the Leverhulme/Cambridge research on 'conspiracy theories' reported in the Guardian today. It has already attracted hoots of derision on Twitter, for good reason. theguardian.com/society/2018/n…
This is not a conspiracy theory. It is an accurate description of social reality, albeit given a depressive twist (note the "always" and the "anyway").
It is possible to agree with the idea that "the few" dominate public business while holding onto the hope that it might be possible to empower "the many" somehow. Indeed, there is a political party that promotes exactly this idea.
The statement is almost identical to one used by researchers at the University of Miami, whose work as written up in the Washington Post in early 2017. nytimes.com/2017/02/15/ups…
The Washington Post glossed this research as showing that Democratis were becoming more conspiracy-minded. Here's where I think it gets interesting in a #mediademocracy kind of way.
It is a truism of the rationalist-atheist fraternity that humans are wired to over-detect threats, to impute sinister significance to random events and so on. The savannah, evolved psychology, you know the drill.
We also know that generalised moods make particular, related events more likely. Happy people are more likely to feel joy, for example. It seems likely that people who feel anxious and insecure are more willing to identify causation behind events on their own initiative.
(We are told all sorts of stories about secret machinations by authoritative voices - these, it is important to remember, are rarely described as conspiracy theories even when they are formally identical and entirely untrue.)
What matters is not the accuracy of the claim, but the mental state and social status of the person who believes it. People who are marginalised and anxious are more likely to infer that events conform to some kind of hidden rationale, denied in the main circuits of publicity.
(How many times have you heard some complacent dimbulb announce that they subscribe to the 'cock up theory of history', like it isn't the least surprising thing they could possibly say, along with, 'people who can't be friends with ideological opponents are narrow-minded')
The prevailing function of the conspiracy theory is to give high status people a handy, scientific-sounding way to punch down. It is social sadism under the cover of social science.
The ludicrous question we started with is useful, because it shows that a 'conspiracy theory' is not necessarily untrue. Rather, it is something that belongs to the category 'beliefs of people who don't matter'.
After the 2016 election US Democrats doubtless felt less at-home, less at ease, and so somewhat more willing to entertain disreputable ideas about social reality. Framing this as a conspiratorial has a disciplining effect: stop believing this obviously true claim or lose status.
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In the new NS podcast the team discuss a focus group in Sittingbourne and Sheppey, made up of Conservative to Labour switchers. One presenter, the one who doubted Corbyn had much of a personal vote in Islington, was "a bit taken aback at how punchy and disappointed they were."
It's striking that a political journalist needs to go to a structured focus group to find out what people outside Westminster are feeling. But I suppose this reflects the existing balance of power: voters are a background feature in a drama with only a handful of speaking parts.
Marr noted that politics outside Westminster was different, and that Burnham and Sarwar are more interesting and self-assured than most Cabinet members. But the podcast was 100% Westminster-brained, in that its premise was that 20224 Con-Lab switchers were key.
In my self-appointed capacity as a purveyor of lukewarm takes I have now read That Article. What stands out is the intense focus of the Labour right on media and communications ... 🧵 theguardian.com/politics/2024/…
McSweeney seems to have understood that trusted independent left media posed an existential threat to the right's attempt to regain control: if members understood who the Labour right were, and what they wanted, the game would be up.
According to @AnushkaAsthana "they took aim at news websites they considered to be either alt-left or alt-right, including, perhaps not surprisingly, the Canary." She says their campaign had a material impact on that outlet, forcing them to become "much leaner."
Politicians can say anything to a nodding journalist, no matter how insultingly stupid and misleading, as long as they use a mind-numbingly banal analogy from daily life to do it. Nation's credit card? Sure. Under the bonnet? Yeah, sounds about right.
A great deal of media culture consists of projecting their own inability to grasp basic concepts onto their audiences: rather than explain how parties interact with the state, which would require thought, they happily go along with framing that is simple, familiar and wrong.
Haha, the public don't care about x! (when x is something that's extremely important, that can only shore up oligarchic power in a formally democratic system when people have no idea what x is, and only have brain dead analogies to go on when they turn to the media to find out.)
Labour's plans to use public-private partnerships for new infrastructure will create endless chokepoints for rent extraction for large investment funds, raising the cost of living for the rest of us, for no other reason than a reflexive desire to serve the rich. As in health ...
... if the workers and the materials exist, we can afford to do it: the means create the money and there is not reason to cede ownership of vital infrastructure. It's a political choice that the Greens, the Social Campaign Group and the rest of the left should loudly reject.
And anyone with an ounce of integrity who has railed against Conservative malfeasance and corruption should do the same. The question 'who owns Britain?' ought to be central to our politics for the next five years.
Just thinking about servility in capitalism when I saw this. If you "dig under the surface" of "centrist dad" as a term of abuse, I'd say it's about having one's opinions shaped - unknowingly - so they're consistent with a relatively privileged place in the social order.
A "centrist dad" is a product of domination, inasmuch as he doesn't know why he believes what he believes. There are plenty of liberal capitalists (some with children!) who understand what they are, how it relates to their beliefs. But the centrist dad is made as if from outside.
If we fear the patriarch because he is a clear-eyed tyrant, we're tempted to despise the centrist dad because he doesn't know what he is, while managing to be incredibly smug about everything.
A month ago I was wondering out loud why the British establishment converged on austerity after 2008 and whether it was part of a coherent class project to protect capital from a population that might have drawn dangerous conclusions from the collapse of economic orthodoxy.
While warbling about the role of the Treasury I was gently prompted by @aerondavis to read his book on the Treasury, and I did. It's well worth a look. I don't think we can yet say for sure whether the Treasury in the 2010s was as clear-eyed as it was in the 1920s.
(For one thing we won't have access to the files for 30 years, assuming nothing untoward happens. The kinds of eye-watering memoranda that Clara Mattei unearthed will be under wraps for a while yet.)