Increasingly, friends, colleagues and readers share the same story with me: Online, somebody they know and love has stumbled into the treacherous world of online conspiracy theories and, in some cases, might not even know it. I'm often asked: How do you talk to people you care about who might be on the precipice of or headed down the conspiratorial rabbit hole?
It's a question without an easy answer, but one we need to ask with increasing urgency. I decided to ask some scholars and researchers about best practices. Their answers are helpful — but more than that, they illustrate the depth of the problem. Conspiracy theories (like Pizzagate and now QAnon, anti-vaccine claims, disinformation around the coronavirus suggesting the virus was engineered in a laboratory) are a chronic condition that will long outlive the 2020 election. Given our reliance on social platforms to connect and process news, we need a way to manage their inevitable presence in our lives, rather than naively hold out hope for a magical cure.
Reminder: This advice pertains to friends or relatives with whom you are already close and who are not demonstrating unstable or violent behavior. It's important to exercise restraint and good judgment in all cases.
Ask where the information is coming from.
Whitney Phillips, a communications scholar at Syracuse University who studies misinformation, rhetoric and information systems, suggested talking about the way the internet works.
"If I were confronted by a 60-year-old relative that I love who is sharing worrying things, I'd open a conversation by getting them to talk about information. I'd non-defensively ask them, 'Do you know how Google works?' 'What do you think my news feed looks like? Do you know why yours looks that way?' " Phillips told me. "So many people think this technology is magic or the natural state of how information moves. But it's not. It's designed this way. And if people better understood the mechanisms and the economics, maybe then you can talk about the content."
Her aim is to give people an understanding of their information environment. She argues that this is especially important with older social media users who may not be well versed in the way platforms use recommendation algorithms and create environments like filter bubbles. "If people really knew how these platforms worked or how much money they generate, they'd be more wary," she said. "I would not advocate replacing one conspiracy theory with another, but if these people are already wary of authority, it's worth asking them questions like, 'Whose interest does your online engagement serve?' "
Create some cognitive dissonance.
In a recent article, Colin Dickey, an author and academic who has spent time writing about conspiracy theories, argued that his first step is to acknowledge that some conspiracies do exist — Watergate, the Catholic Church's sexual abuse scandals, the billionaire Jeffrey Epstein's network of underage sexual abuse. This, he argues, creates a bit of common ground and lays the foundation to explore how unproven conspiracy theories differ from reality.
"I try to show how these conspiracies play out," he told me. "I say, 'I don't know if you're right or wrong, but if you were right, I would expect the following to happen.' I explain how, in past conspiracies, there is usually some whistleblower or news report, and then the whole thing unravels quickly. Witnesses come forward, then victims. And journalists circle like sharks to get the story. I try to get them to think about concrete things and logistical details, including the bureaucracy that's required to maintain these vast alleged plots."