Jan 26, 2024 11:38 PM
(This post was last modified: Jan 27, 2024 01:33 AM by C C.)
https://aeon.co/essays/climate-populism-...cy-complex
KEY EXCERPT: . . . As the impact of climate change becomes more disruptive, you might see a more mainstream, definable political movement emerge, in which politicians and pundits exploit worries about the climate emergency for political and economic gain.
Climate populism – the political stance that is imagined surfing on the back of climate-related conspiracy theories – would have a number of features in common with populism as studied by researchers today. Just like other populisms, we cannot expect it to form a coherent ideology or worldview – apart from the usual trope of pitting ‘the people’ against the malevolent ‘elite’...
[...] The political forces that are right now the most ardent deniers of anthropogenic climate change will turn out to be the climate populists of tomorrow. At first this might sound like a paradox. How could a political force or actor that claimed the climate crisis does not exist put forward, the next day, a narrative that the Jews caused the climate crisis? This sounds a bit too dystopian, too 1984. Surely, voters in functioning democratic societies would detect the discrepancy between incompatible claims. They would voice their concerns. If inconsistencies remain, their support would be withdrawn.
Sadly, this is not always our experience with extremist political messaging. For concerned believers of conspiracy theories, group belonging might be more important than narrative consistency. It could also be that the logical inconsistencies are not perceived at all. This is not because conspiracy believers are stupid, uneducated or incapable of logical thinking. It is because the narrative still contains the critical motifs, from the hated outgroup to the malevolent intent and all the rest.
The story would still offer the same psychological (and material) benefits. What happens, from the perspective of the believers, is that they ‘uncover’ a more ‘complete’ picture of the ‘truth’. This new ‘truth’ would, unsurprisingly, still fit with the worldview that is characterised by outgroups scheming to destroy traditional culture.
It may sound weird, but conspiracy-communicators could remain capable of increasing their own reputation by using conspiracist narratives, even if the conspiracy they advocate is in logical disagreement with what they have advocated yesterday...
CONSPIRACY IN GENERAL EXCERPT: ...If climate change is slowly turning the planet into an oven, then this must have been the outcome of our enemies’ intentional wrongdoing. If there are no coincidences in the world, then everything, including catastrophic events, can be controlled. It is only a matter of power and prowess.
Strengthening this hypothesis is the finding that humans in general find it hard to bear with uncertainty and ambiguity. Conspiracist thinking is on an extreme end of a spectrum of causal thinking about the world. On the other extreme end, people would consistently believe that everything is chance, and nothing can be controlled through intentional actions.
Just like conspiracist thinking seems to be maladaptive at first sight, this other extreme would then be a recipe of not taking action, even in situations when something could actually be done. This rather depressive mental predisposition was named learned helplessness by the psychologist Martin Seligman. Conspiracy theories have an appeal precisely because they promise, at least on the surface, to completely eradicate uncertainty and chance from the interpretation of events. They make everything look controllable by making everything appear controlled.
Conspiracy theories are not just amusing or compelling explanations that float around in space. Close-knit social groups, where members actively construct meaning and goals for themselves, are sometimes formed around conspiracy narratives. Inside a community of believers, members encourage, reward and pay attention to each other...
[...] As the philosopher Dan Williams noted, believing in a conspiracy theory – or in any other questionable belief – may occasionally be socially adaptive, in a sense that it allows the believer to participate in rewarding group activities, and consequently avoid the pain of loneliness and exclusion. Showing public conformity with group beliefs is a standard requirement of belonging, a sign of loyalty...
Promoting a conspiracy theory also helps the promotor. The most straightforward benefit, of course, is money. Conspiracy theorists on YouTube may make revenue through advertising or by selling merchandise. The most well-known example of this is Alex Jones’s Infowars website, which generated an estimated $165 million in a three-year period, mostly by selling supplements and prepping gear for viewers who became convinced that society was going to collapse.
There are other, non-monetary perks for communicators, too. The messenger of bad news is often perceived to be more competent, according to an experimental study carried out by Pascal Boyer and Nora Parren. It is easy to see how communicators, suggesting that they possess ‘secret knowledge’ or ‘insider information’ – like the anonymous government official ‘Q’ in QAnon, who claims to hold Q-level clearance to classified information – may find it easier to boost their reputation as experts in the eyes of explanation-hungry audiences.
Under specific circumstances, building this kind of reputation may pay off in politics, too: boys who cry wolf are sometimes elected as mayors of the town. To a more limited extent, followers are also granted the same benefit. In possession of ‘insider information’, they may act and feel superior towards the ‘sheeple’, those who don’t believe in their ideas. It is no wonder that users holding extremely fringe beliefs tend to be more active on social media: they use platforms for identity protection, and to evangelise... (MORE - missing details)
KEY EXCERPT: . . . As the impact of climate change becomes more disruptive, you might see a more mainstream, definable political movement emerge, in which politicians and pundits exploit worries about the climate emergency for political and economic gain.
Climate populism – the political stance that is imagined surfing on the back of climate-related conspiracy theories – would have a number of features in common with populism as studied by researchers today. Just like other populisms, we cannot expect it to form a coherent ideology or worldview – apart from the usual trope of pitting ‘the people’ against the malevolent ‘elite’...
[...] The political forces that are right now the most ardent deniers of anthropogenic climate change will turn out to be the climate populists of tomorrow. At first this might sound like a paradox. How could a political force or actor that claimed the climate crisis does not exist put forward, the next day, a narrative that the Jews caused the climate crisis? This sounds a bit too dystopian, too 1984. Surely, voters in functioning democratic societies would detect the discrepancy between incompatible claims. They would voice their concerns. If inconsistencies remain, their support would be withdrawn.
Sadly, this is not always our experience with extremist political messaging. For concerned believers of conspiracy theories, group belonging might be more important than narrative consistency. It could also be that the logical inconsistencies are not perceived at all. This is not because conspiracy believers are stupid, uneducated or incapable of logical thinking. It is because the narrative still contains the critical motifs, from the hated outgroup to the malevolent intent and all the rest.
The story would still offer the same psychological (and material) benefits. What happens, from the perspective of the believers, is that they ‘uncover’ a more ‘complete’ picture of the ‘truth’. This new ‘truth’ would, unsurprisingly, still fit with the worldview that is characterised by outgroups scheming to destroy traditional culture.
It may sound weird, but conspiracy-communicators could remain capable of increasing their own reputation by using conspiracist narratives, even if the conspiracy they advocate is in logical disagreement with what they have advocated yesterday...
CONSPIRACY IN GENERAL EXCERPT: ...If climate change is slowly turning the planet into an oven, then this must have been the outcome of our enemies’ intentional wrongdoing. If there are no coincidences in the world, then everything, including catastrophic events, can be controlled. It is only a matter of power and prowess.
Strengthening this hypothesis is the finding that humans in general find it hard to bear with uncertainty and ambiguity. Conspiracist thinking is on an extreme end of a spectrum of causal thinking about the world. On the other extreme end, people would consistently believe that everything is chance, and nothing can be controlled through intentional actions.
Just like conspiracist thinking seems to be maladaptive at first sight, this other extreme would then be a recipe of not taking action, even in situations when something could actually be done. This rather depressive mental predisposition was named learned helplessness by the psychologist Martin Seligman. Conspiracy theories have an appeal precisely because they promise, at least on the surface, to completely eradicate uncertainty and chance from the interpretation of events. They make everything look controllable by making everything appear controlled.
Conspiracy theories are not just amusing or compelling explanations that float around in space. Close-knit social groups, where members actively construct meaning and goals for themselves, are sometimes formed around conspiracy narratives. Inside a community of believers, members encourage, reward and pay attention to each other...
[...] As the philosopher Dan Williams noted, believing in a conspiracy theory – or in any other questionable belief – may occasionally be socially adaptive, in a sense that it allows the believer to participate in rewarding group activities, and consequently avoid the pain of loneliness and exclusion. Showing public conformity with group beliefs is a standard requirement of belonging, a sign of loyalty...
Promoting a conspiracy theory also helps the promotor. The most straightforward benefit, of course, is money. Conspiracy theorists on YouTube may make revenue through advertising or by selling merchandise. The most well-known example of this is Alex Jones’s Infowars website, which generated an estimated $165 million in a three-year period, mostly by selling supplements and prepping gear for viewers who became convinced that society was going to collapse.
There are other, non-monetary perks for communicators, too. The messenger of bad news is often perceived to be more competent, according to an experimental study carried out by Pascal Boyer and Nora Parren. It is easy to see how communicators, suggesting that they possess ‘secret knowledge’ or ‘insider information’ – like the anonymous government official ‘Q’ in QAnon, who claims to hold Q-level clearance to classified information – may find it easier to boost their reputation as experts in the eyes of explanation-hungry audiences.
Under specific circumstances, building this kind of reputation may pay off in politics, too: boys who cry wolf are sometimes elected as mayors of the town. To a more limited extent, followers are also granted the same benefit. In possession of ‘insider information’, they may act and feel superior towards the ‘sheeple’, those who don’t believe in their ideas. It is no wonder that users holding extremely fringe beliefs tend to be more active on social media: they use platforms for identity protection, and to evangelise... (MORE - missing details)
