Wednesday, January 12, 2011

The key to Loughner’s politics might be an internet film

A popular internet conspiracy documentary called Zeitgeist, not talk-show rhetoric or his bookshelf, might be the key to understanding Jared Lee Loughner’s eclectic and twisted politics. The parts of his worldview that can be pieced together from his YouTube videos, internet chat logs and his classmates’ and former friends’ comments, suggest he accepts the semicoherent ideology of a particular meta-conspiracy theory based fringe. Zeitgeist represents, and drives, its current manifestation.
Loughner’s political and social views, as best as we can piece together, revolve around four seemingly unrelated planks: a) religions are false and evil; b) non-gold backed currency is illegitimate; c) 9/11 was an inside job used as a pretext for two illegal wars; and, d) government and media are out to control thoughts.
Many people have noticed Loughner’s attraction to conspiracies. What suggests Zeitgeist might be a key to his beliefs is its uniqueness among the many other conspiracy theory documentaries circulating the internet. Zeitgeist stands out for its willingness to tie the thesis of the “Truther” movement – that the attacks were an ‘inside job’ - to a number of other conspiracy theories, some traditionally associated with the political left, some with the political right. The result is a semi-coherent meta-theory.
Zeitgeist was created by Peter Joseph. It was ‘officially’ released in 2007, although early permutations had already circulated. It’s been subsequently recut and given a strange pseudo-religious sequel. Zeitgeist’s thesis can be summarized as this: a) all the world’s religions share a common set of beliefs and are used by the rich and powerful to manipulate and control people’s minds; b) contemporary currency policy, most importantly central banking, is unconstitutional and is structured for the enrichment of these same nefarious elites; c) 9/11 was an ‘inside job’, perpetuated by these same actors; d) the media cannot be trusted to report these truths because it is also under their control.
These correspond very well with the picture we now have of Loughner’s political fixations, listed above.
The film’s theses a), b), and d), are, of course, generations old. In many respects, Zeitgeist is just the Protocols of the Elders of Zion updated for the 21st century, and without the explicit ‘blame Jews’ angle. It should be noted that Loughner’s target, Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, is Jewish. It takes few steps to reinsert the anti-Semitic angle into the Zeitgeist narrative.
Of course, no movie, and no conspiracy theory, is the singular cause of an unspeakable act of political violence. Early indications are that Loughner may have suffered from a delusional mental illness. John Hinckley Jr, who shot President Reagan, and James J. Lee, who stormed the Discovery Channel building last fall, were mentally ill. Both also had an obsession, one with a celebrity, one with a pet cause. Loughner may be like them, with political obsessions strikingly similar to those pushed in Zeitgiest . He could also be like Dan White, Harvey Milk's killer. With White, illness and an obsessive idea are like the proverbial chicken and the egg.
Most of the millions who’ve viewed Zeitgeist, including most of those who believe it, continue to function normally in society. They hold the beliefs in a ‘symbolic manner’ – where their ‘special knowledge’ is somehow walled off from their behaviours. The belief functions as a placeholder for general discontent, and has little consequence in how the person lives. This, according to Julian Sanchez, is what allows for a significant number of Democrats to believe that the Bush Administration had advance knowledge of, or even planned, the 9/11 attacks, and for a large minority of Republicans to believe that Obama’s a secret Muslim “Manchurian Candidate”, without having to devote themselves to the drastic measures those beliefs would logically entail. There is, however, a fringe of the fringe, most often adult males with some history of mental illness, whose twisted beliefs turn into horrific actions.
Zeitgeist’s devotees claim, with some credibility, that the film is among the most downloaded in the Internet’s history. It appears, from his anti-religious, pseudo-libertarian, gold and banking obsessed electronic trail, that Loughner was one of those who took it seriously.

Update I: Between the time I wrote this and the time I posted it, this AP article appeared.  In it, the parents of a friend of Loughner provide this insight into his movie viewing: "Loughner's favorites included little-known conspiracy theory documentaries such as 'Zeitgeist' and 'Loose Change'."

Update II: That friend has now spoken to the press. This ABC news story quotes him as saying "I really think that this 'Zeitgeist' documentary had a profound impact on Jared's mindset and how he viewed that world that he lives in."

It looks like I had it right.

Update III: Now The Daily Beast is all over this angle. This story looks at Zeitgeist specifically, while this looks at the his crazy views more generally.

8 comments:

  1. I'm intrigued by a larger idea addressed by your very interesting post - namely Sanchez' notion of "symbolic beliefs." This seems like an extremely useful concept, especially because it is distinct from "hypocrisy" (as Sanchez notes).

    Without meaning to belittle the millions of Christians (and others) who believe in the existence of a literal hell, it seems to me that "symbolic belief" describes their relationship with that doctrine with particular clarity. If they "really" believed that anyone who did not believe in Jesus Christ was headed for eternal torture in a lake of fire - that is, if they acted on their belief - then they would spend every waking minute trying to save the souls of those around them. Such a belief actually _requires_ obsession. Most people are relatively sane, so they compartmentalize. Other sane people deal with the implications of the belief by deciding not to believe in it. And the few who "really" believe it become, or have the potential to become, the Loughners. What they do with the belief depends on its content.

    There's a lot of explanatory power here, and the Loughner case is a great example. This was a great post.

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  2. Great blog, I’m glad you started it because important studies have been sadly neglected in the academy in favour of fascinations with third-wave what-have-yous or post-whatever-the-hell-isms.

    I’ve often wrestled with conspiratorial thinking, not because I’m paranoid (at least I don’t think I am, …AM IT?!?), but because in certain cases a conspiracy might actually provide the best explanation. After all, didn’t Hitler send goons to go burn down the Reichstag and then blame the communists, justifying his grasp at dictatorial power? Well, that’s the leading, um, theory. How can we distinguish between the credible explanation and the crackpot yarn? Three clues that help me in this regard:

    First, it is good that people sometimes can perceive conspiracy in state-sponsored spin or a snake-oil salesman’s grin. Governments do carry out covert operations, and grocery stores do put milk in the back in order to make you walk past all of their other products (OMG, IT’S TRUE!!). Believing in MANY conspiracy theories, however, or in a “meta”theory like Zeitgeist which ties all popular paranoias together into a grand narrative, may be the sign of a sick mind. Here, the subjective side of the equation is clearly dominant, and (what Arendt might call ‘banal’) reality is dismissed in favour of fanciful belief in evil geniuses behind not just one thing, but everything. Thus, when conspiracy theories are believed in en masse, this composite looks all the more ridiculous than any of its constituent mini-theories, and the proponent of belief in this composite should lose credibility.

    Second, a hallmark of bad conspiratorial thinking is it’s immunity to challenge. For the conspiracy theorist, if a conspiracy is improbable, this doesn’t mean that the conspiracy is, in fact, improbable; just the opposite: it is simply further proof of the incredible genius of the puppetmaster who is pulling the strings. This is the most frightening aspect of the conspiratorial mind-trap. That 9/11 would be nearly impossible to orchestrate only shows how amazing the accomplished feat was, and how powerful the men in power are. Dinosaur bones in the ground don’t disconfirm a six day creation; rather, they were put there to test faith in the theory. Ultimately, because there is no possibility of disproof, you end up at a philosophical dead end that has been iterated over and over again ad nauseum, whether it be in the form of a brain-in-vat or bad actor-in-matrix. Mulder’s big lie (or big self-deception) was that the truth was “out there”—in actuality he couldn’t even see past himself, and he and Scully remained sad and sexually frustrated for years.

    This brings me to the third clue: while theories should gain veracity with peer-scrutiny and assent, unhealthily conspiratorial thinkers will often be loners (as Loughner, excuse the pun, clearly was). This is what makes the idea of a Truth “movement” so laughable. No sooner would you gather these people together, or organize leadership, than they would immediately begin to view their comrades as either agents provocateurs or as andriodal pawns of the persecutory powers that be. With these great powers of misperception comes great isolation: thinking that the world is out to get you and that your sacrifice to truth necessitates mistrust of everyone, when in reality the world couldn’t care less about you, and your trust in them is inconsequential for anyone other than yourself.

    So to sum up, I think that we might be able to judge the credibility of a conspiratorial thinker based on 3 factors: the quantity of the conspiracies believed in, the possibility for challenge of the beliefs themselves, and the extent to which the conspiratorial gaze is indiscriminately directed, such that they become alienated not just from the anonymous men-in-black, but from everyone that they once cared about and who has attempted to care about them.

    Thanks for this very provocative blog. I think you’re quite right about Loughner’s motivation and I look forward to more posts.

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  4. Thanks for the kind words.

    FSP: In my examples of beliefs in conspiracies, and in your hell-belief example, one thing I find interesting is whether, when faced in the real world with what should be a dissonant situation, the person abandons, modifies or rejects the belief. In the case of symbolic beliefs, rejection or modification is hardly necessary, as the belief is compartmentalized so as to minimize the dissonance in advance. In your example, when, by marriage or lapsation (new word alert), a believer's family comes to include a non-believer, it will become evident to what extent the belief is symbolic. Most people, I find, make exceptions for those they know and love.

    This of course relates to JpJ's second 'health of a theory' test. It also relates to the third. Gesellschaft worries can become Gemeinschaft problems. (Those are German sociology terms for 'I went to grad school' and they mean 'system-world' and 'community-world', respectively).

    It's a great threefold test, by the way, and should be patented forthwith. Zeitgeist fails the banality test, and the Scully-Mulder test. Loughner's scaring or otherwise alienating everyone he knew had perhaps little to do with his ideas in a simple sense; however, at least in the case of this particular person who couldn't compartmentalize, the Zeitgeist worldview fails the third test too.

    The Atlantic Wire has a short piece today exploring Loughner as a potential 'White House Case'. That's a category of “mentally ill who become psychotically preoccupied with the inhabitants of the White House or other government offices.” It seems to me that exploring WHCs requires looking at those things that push a person into that obsession, as surely those obsessions don't self-generate. I think Zeitgeist fits the bill in this terrible case.

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  5. After reading your argument above, I got to thinking about symbolic beliefs. It is true that the mark of a socially healthy person is to make a distinction between symbolic beliefs and non-symbolic beliefs. Lots of people are fans of Glenn Beck and tune in to his portrayals of Obama's administration. If those Glenn Beck fans reflected Beck's beliefs in their actions, the result would be mass political upheaval. Or, if you believe Obama was not born in the United States, then acting on that belief would mean complete disregard for the current administration. And yet, "disregard" for Obama has generally remained in the realm of "talk", not "action".

    The distinction between symbolic beliefs and non-symbolic beliefs leaves me wondering about the value of beliefs. It is indeed easy to strut about within the confines of one's own mind with a vast array of beliefs. But what value are these beliefs when they do not see the light of day? I do believe that Monsanto is a company that has manipulated the corn industry and destroyed farming families, but this belief of mine is merely symbolic. I still eat and drink modified corn products uncritically. If my belief were less symbolic, I would do more than be a better shopper - I would put my belief into action, and actively seek to combat Monsanto's draconian business practices. But I don't. Despite my belief, I still reach for a Dorito chip if a bowl is nearby, or enjoy a can of cola - my belief is symbolic, when the dust of my disdain for Monsanto settles..

    My inclination is to value non-symbolic beliefs (or "lived beliefs") above mere symbolic beliefs. Walking the walk trumps talking the talk. My problem, though, is, my 'belief' that non-symbolic beliefs are more valuable is itself a belief I do not live. Most of my beliefs I do not act on, and I don't want to live in a world where people act out all of their beliefs. Thus, my belief in the priority of non-symbolic beliefs is itself a symbolic belief. It is talk best not walked.

    For this reason, I think there is something to be said for postmodern relativists who ask us to think, conceptualize, contemplate, imagine, etc. without stringent correspondence to actions, realities, or truths. As if to say, perhaps by taking beliefs *less* seriously, we can more easily to determine what we should be taking *more* seriously, ie. not our beliefs, for one.

    Rob, do you have any thoughts on the value of belief, in this regard? What do you make of the role of symbolic beliefs in the political realm? Is there a place for beliefs in things we don't "really" believe?

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  6. Jonathan, your response to Monsanto is illuminating. It could mean, a) that you feel impotent in the face of a real thing you understand and genuinely believe is wrong, and are resigned that you can't do anything to stop it, or at least must focus your energy elsewhere, or b) that you have frustrations with industrial agriculture, and perhaps the scale and pace of modern life generally, and Monsanto (or Walmart or what-have-you) gives you a simple and concrete icon on which to focus your frustration. The symbolic belief language is helpful in the case of b). Option a) is similar but would need some different language. Option a) is more a matter of understanding your own place and limits. I suspect many of Beck's disciples are category a) and not b).

    I don't agree that the problem is the attention we give beliefs. You're corrent that the symbolic/lived thing starts collapsing the closer we look at it, and that focusing on what we give intellectual assent to, whether followed through or not, shouldn't be our first question. However, our convictions (which are similar to, but perhaps richer, than 'lived beliefs') do matter. It's not often that we take them too seriously. Hmmm. I hope I'm not lapsing into some reason/passions heirarchy here...

    Some problems, political or otherwise, are because we don't take ideas seriously enough. Politicians often just end up floating into some policy because of a bunch of short term considerations and grudges and personality conflicts. Pointing out inconsistencies between rhetoric and action (and the symbolic belief category can be handy here)and calling people to attend to their beliefs and either change them, live them out, or abandon them, can be exactly what is necessary.

    Regarding your last question, about a healthy place in politics for symbolic beliefs: I think that Obama's "hope and change" thing, and Reagan's "Morning in America" are both narratives that people don't really belief but are/were generally harmless and even constructive when held rather loosely. "Things will improve soon" can be self-fulfilling.

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  7. So perhaps another function of a symbolic belief is to fulfill itself. We believe some thing not only to identify ourselves as a particular kind of person belonging (or not) to a particular group of persons (which is what I take to be its main function), but in order that corresponding actions might be taken if the right conditions should arise. Perhaps symbolic beliefs can sometimes "clear the way" for action (or, more precisely, we subscribe to them as a strategy for clearing the way). This would seem to be something distinct from simply believing something in order to motivate ourselves to act.

    This function of symbolic belief is clearly central to the process of social/political change. Usually, a certain climate of opinion must be cultivated and expanded before the action recommended by that opinion can be taken. Symbolic beliefs can prime the system for change, even though the believers haven't been out there pushing for the change or acting on their opinions themselves. Jonathan may not be acting on his belief about Monsanto, but there may be a lot of people who share his belief (and who also fail to act), and when one person does take action, all those people are ready to provide support (even if "support" simply means that they don't oppose the change). When the ban on Doritos comes down, Jonathan and his friends will be happy to obey.

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  8. FSP, that's a great insight into social movements. Discontent that is expressed in symbols can be sparked into the kinds of action that lead to real change. Some people lament the focus on important individual actors in history; I think they're important, not because they 'do it all', but because they are the catalyst for the mobilization of the previously inert. Falwell and Schaffly are good examples.

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