Prior to the onset of the Covid-19 pandemic around the beginning of 2020, conspiracy theories were something fun that kept you entertained and intrigued. They did not seem political in nature. Kooky at worst, they made for interesting TV shows and movies, and were something fun to debate among friends over dinner or a drink. What really happened at Area 51? Did the Americans really land on the moon? Was there a second gunman on the grassy knoll? Was the world really flat? These conspiracy theories tended to be relatively harmless and while thoroughly debunked over time, continued to provide entertainment for those of us who took casual interest in them from afar.
With the onset of the pandemic, conspiracy theories seemed to grow rapidly, particularly about the virus itself and the vaccines developed to combat the illness. Conspiracy theories began to enter the mainstream and some of those closest to us became susceptible to the ideas circulating among a frightened population. The new wave of conspiracy theories was not just harmless fun or the domain of fringe elements of society and easily dismissed. They became potentially dangerous as people began to take sides, protest and ‘other’ people who disagreed with their point-of-view. You could be talking to anybody in the street and a given utterance about Covid-19 or vaccines would be met by a barrage of anger and blistering opposition. At times, I began to fear that rational society, as we had known, it was ending.
The conspiracy theories of recent years have not been harmless. In fact, recent reflections have led me to think of the followers of these theories as belonging to the first ever world-wide online cult (e.g., QAnon). The nature of these groups seems to mimic the framework of cults in that they attract vulnerable adherents who bow to the whims of a charismatic leader who manipulates followers to do their bidding.
Navigating therapy and conspiracy theories
While all of this was happening ‘out there’ in the world, I was not prepared for it to come into the therapeutic encounter. While I didn’t have many clients espousing conspiracy theories, the four or five who did were enough to cause me great concern. I began to dread my appointments with them – a feeling I have rarely felt during my career. When one client likened himself to a Jew who had to wear a yellow star during the Holocaust because he refused to be vaccinated, I learned that there was a limit to what I was prepared to tolerate, a limit I was previously unaware I had. It is not easy to admit in a paper written for other psychologists that I became angry and argumentative with a client, but herein lies the learning moment of working with the 'conspiracy theory' client.
Remembering I'm there to help
After this encounter with my client, I sought ‘emergency’ supervision for the first time in my career. I was angry and disillusioned, but within my righteous indignation, I also felt sheepish because I knew I had not served this client well. I wanted my supervisor to tell me I was right and provide the soothing words of justification I needed. But of course, he did not do that. Having coined the term, “you get the clients you deserve”, this is how supervision was approached.
A combination of self-reflection and supervision helped me recognise the shift in mindset I needed to make. I felt there were three things I needed to do to be the most effective therapist I could be with my conspiracy theory clients. The first two points below became my tools for ensuring I could stay connected with my clients when conspiracies entered the session. The third point was where therapy would take place - that place where vulnerability towards conspiracy thinking developed.
1. Do not react
In learning not to react, I found inspiration from Dr Deborah Lipstad who took on Holocaust denial in court and won. In reading her book “Denying the Holocaust” Lipstad (1993) discussed how she never debates Holocaust deniers, pointing out that engaging in a debate about ‘alternate’ theories, gives rise to the idea that there is a legitimate alternate point-of-view, where in truth no alternate point-of-view exists. Lipstad points out that she is more than happy to debate someone on the nuances of factual material, for example, she will debate how many people died in the Holocaust, because at least both parties agree that the Holocaust happened. I concluded that I did not have to agree with my clients’ point-of-view, but I did not have to outwardly disagree either. I merely ignored the rhetoric and mined for therapeutic material. I made this a rule for myself to protect the relationship and honour the therapeutic process.
2. Find common ground without conceeding
I began to look for paths that lead to a therapeutic engagement. With most conspiracy theories, there often exists a kernel of fact that has been twisted to form the conspiracy theory. Interestingly, as I listened to my clients from my new stance, I found that common ground had been ever present. While my clients and I were jousting over the safety or harm of vaccines, it dawned on me that by trying to convince me of the harm of vaccines, they were expressing their concern for me. My clients knew I’d been vaccinated and were concerned I could be harmed. Despite our opposing points-of-view, we both cared for each other’s welfare.
3. Learn why people become vulnerable to conspiracy theories
Finally, I needed to embrace the scientist-practitioner model and research why people buy into conspiracy theories, and particularly the conspiracy theories around Covid-19.
Why do people believe conspiracy theories?
During the height of the pandemic, the Director General of the World Health Organisation stated, “We’re not just fighting an epidemic, we’re fighting an infodemic” (Hong, Chan, & Douglas, 2021). According to Hong et al. (2021), people believe or adhere to conspiracy theories when (1) epistemic, (2) existential, and (3) social needs are not satisfied or are frustrated. Van Prooijen (2019) further explains that existential threat triggers a ‘sense-making’ process within the person as they try to make sense of what is happening around them where no more plausible explanation exists.
1. Epistemic reasons
People are motivated to maintain certainty, consistency, and accuracy about their understanding of the world. This need for certainty drives people towards needing causal explanations for events that involve uncertainty and randomness (Heider, 1958; Kruglanski, 1989). Covid-19 spread throughout the world and quickly became a pandemic. Millions of people were getting sick, and thousands of people were dying every day, nobody was safe. As carriers of the virus, other people were viewed as dangerous, so we worked to distance from others and isolated ourselves in our homes. Fear spread as quickly as the virus. No person or country seemed to understand the virus, nor could they stop its progress. The uncertainty of events and fears for one’s own safety, provided fertile ground for speculation about the situation we all found ourselves in. For those who could not tolerate the uncertainty, conspiracy theories provided plausible explanations that allowed for certainty, consistency, and accuracy in the world, thereby soothing the anxiety of their believers.
2. Existential reasons
Existential need refers to peoples need for agency, to feel safe, secure, and able to exert control over their environment. When a person begins to feel unsafe in the world, they seek answers to the problem before them to restore a sense of safety and security. Where a plausible explanation cannot be found, the person begins to engage in compensatory mechanisms to restore that sense of safety, security, and control over their world. Due to the nature of conspiracy theories, they provide an explanation for events that appears rational thereby restoring their sense of safety in the world (Landau et al., 2015).
Unfortunately, many of the explanations provided by conspiracy theories that lead to a restoration of the client’s sense of safety and security are based in externalising blame for the issue on some malicious other, whether that be a person or a group. A sense of safety is also found in the identification of the “enemy’ who bought about the uncertainty, providing a sense of togetherness in the fight against this common foe (Bost & Prunier, 2013; Kofta et al., 2020). It would also appear that the greater the level of anxiety, powerlessness, and consequent lack of control of their environment, the stronger the conspiratorial belief will be (Bruder et al., 2013; Grzesiak-Feldman, 2013; Kofta et al., 2020).
3. Social reasons
From a social needs point-of-view, people are motivated to maintain a positive social image of themselves and the group to which they belong. Those who have higher needs for positive regard, for a sense of uniqueness or indeed a collective narcissism, are more likely to believe conspiracy theories (Cichocka et al. 2016a; Cichocka et al., 2016b; Lantian et al., 2018). This would go a long way towards explaining the tribe mentality that broke out among believers and the non-believers of conspiracy theories during Covid-19. Covid-19, as well as the strategies for battling the pandemic (e.g., masks, vaccines, and lockdowns) became the battleground of the political divide.
Personal observations about conspiracy theorist clients
In addition to the research behind conspiracy theory belief, I would also like to add the following observations about people I have encountered, both within and outside of therapy, who espouse conspiracy theories.
- Evidence for their theories is usually wafer thin or does not meet the usual standard for evidence or proof - the evidence is often as implausible as the theory itself. Generally, believers point to online videos or websites that are populated by people and articles that support the believer’s beliefs. These articles and videos similarly lack any evidence other than to refer to vague notions of “I’ve heard”, or “people have told me”.
- Explanations tend to be couched in terms of questions, rather than answers. People won’t be able to point to evidence but will instead make their argument by bringing into question an idea or notion, such as “don’t you think”, or “isn’t it strange that”, or “I’m just asking questions”
- People must convince you of their way of thinking, they need to be validated. A denial of their thinking is therefore not a rejection of their thoughts, beliefs, and opinions, but a rejection of their very being.
- Once evidence or argument is discredited, you are explained away as “one of them”, the “other”, placing you not in the position of someone who can make an argument about the issue at hand, but placed into the other ideological group. Therefore, your opinion is explained away because of the group you belong to, the enemy, not because you possess a rational argument.
- Once a conspiratorial argument is discredited, an interesting dynamic ensues. The issue that was being discussed slowly disappears, and you the person become the subject of attack. The conspiracy theorist cannot win the argument based on the facts, so they attempt to win the argument by discrediting you the individual. If the person can discredit you, their belief in their argument can be maintained, because the discussion has left the original point and is now about something else completely, you as a person.
- The argument is like a slippery fish, it moves and bends and is hard to hang on to as the point shifts into something you can’t argue, or both agree on. Once again, the original ideology can be maintained because it is no longer the point of discussion.
Outcomes in practice
Having received supervision and done the required research, I recognised much of what I had learned fit perfectly with how one of my clients had become caught up in conspiracy thinking. Prior to Covid-19, he had realised a lifelong dream of being in the military. However, having successfully joined the military, he was injured in training. As time went on, it became clear he would be unable to return to the highly physical demands of the job and was discharged. To make matters worse, his injuries were not recognised by DVA, so he was not earning an income nor able to get treatment for his injury. As his mental health deteriorated, he began to blame the government for his circumstances and found solace in the online groups who were also blaming the government for the life situations they found themselves in.
Having employed the strategies I discussed in this article, I observed that while maintaining many of the theories he had come to hold on to, he had become inquisitive about his dilemma and why he felt the way he did towards the world. I was able to maintain my therapeutic stance and stop situations early that had the potential for escalation, and we have been able to avoid conflict. My client did not always necessarily believe what he had come to believe, he had descended into it. Things had gone terribly wrong for him, and he was in pain, both physically and emotionally. I learned that when a client descends into the abyss of conspiratorial thinking, it is my duty to enter their struggle, not make them part of mine.
On a final note, DVA recently overturned its decision and declared that they would recognise my client’s injury and pay for his treatment. While only early days, not a single word has been uttered about a conspiracy theory since the DVA reversal occurred.
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