Richard Hanania is Wrong About Conspiracy Theories

Continuing our examination into 'regime polemics'

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Establishing the argument

I write this essay with two key aims in mind. Firstly – and perhaps most obviously – I intend to critique a pair of essays published last summer by Richard Hanania (“The Rise of the Dale Gribble Voter” & “Left-Wing Ideologies Are Not Conspiracy Theories”). If you are familiar with my past writing, then you probably already have some idea as to how I will disprove Hanania’s claims about right-wing and left-wing conspiracy theories. If not, understand that my approach is somewhat idiosyncratic; I take more than a few liberties with terms and concepts common to conspiracy discourse. I do so because the vocabulary of conspiracism is quite impoverished, resulting in our present circumstance whereby we fail to properly understand conspiracies (and the theories which orbit them). It is because of these problems that “the best” kinds of arguments written on the subject are like those presented in Mr. Hanania’s essays (as we shall soon see).

More importantly, however, it is my goal to demonstrate how Richard Hanania’s writings fall into the category of propaganda I have elsewhere called ‘regime polemics’. Despite the preponderance of literature and commentary on the relationship between propaganda and conspiracy, this connection still requires fuller detailing if we are to arrive at a genuine understanding of the matter.

To achieve these aims, it is necessary that I clarify (in other cases, elaborate upon) the meaning of certain concepts developed in my writing over the course of the last few years (of which ‘regime polemics’ is but one). The first of such excursions will see a more robust explanation of the term I have just invoked as well as an explanation as to how this form of propaganda differs from other types presently in circulation. Secondly, it will be necessary to elaborate just what precisely is meant by the term ‘conspiracy theory’. In my most recent book, Understanding Conspiracy Theories, I devoted much effort towards developing a coherent, functional definition of the word. For our purposes here, it will be necessary to take the matter even further. To that end, I will summarize the definition which I have already provided before elaborating further on the meaning of this most divisive and vexing of terms.

Once more I shall call upon a pair of familiar names in service of my argument: Richard Hofstadter and Karl Popper. The more I write about the topic of conspiracy, the more useful these two social theorists prove to be, for both have labored heavily in their campaigns to influence public opinion on this subject. By the end of this essay I will have demonstrated, just as I have with James Lindsay, exactly how Richard Hanania fits into the long-standing tradition of anti-conspiracy polemics.

What is meant by ‘regime polemics’?

Said simply, the phrase ‘regime polemics’ refers to a style of argumentation intended to fortify some existing power structure, and to defend its reigning paradigmatic or hegemonic ideology. They are deployed to preserve a specific regime, not just a given political formula, for a single regime may deploy, rescind, and then redeploy any number of formulations over the course of its lifespan. In any contest of survival between the hegemon and its ideology (or formula), regime polemicists will act in service of the former over the latter (contradictions and hypocrisies generated by such actions are merely brushed aside by the undulating passage of time).

While regime polemics are deployed in defense of some established power, it would be wrong to classify them as apologetics for two reasons:

1. Apologetics are rooted in sincere and logical argumentation (the logic of a true believer) while polemics – at least this kind of polemic – are both cynical and paralogical (the logic of a mercenary),

2. Apologetics are a straightforward and transparent form of intellectual defense whereas regime polemics are a defense-by-offense which intentionally does not portray itself as ‘on the side’ of the regime.

Despite arising from the regime’s elite institutions and, as the recent USAID scandal has demonstrated, often being funded by the regime itself, the regime polemicist presents his case as though he were an impartial observer interested only in the truth or some other such noble, abstract value. Which isn’t to say that they are avowed non-partisans, merely that they do not identify themselves as regime apparatchiks. (It is important to note that the subject of this essay, Richard Hanania, is a unique exception to this rule. As part of his brand, or perhaps due to the increasingly ironic and hyperreal cultural climate, Hanania revels in being a mouthpiece for regime interests, 'punching down’ at every opportunity).

Some examples of ‘regime polemics’ that I have identified throughout various writings include Hofstadter’s polemic against conspiracy theories (i.e., the paranoid style), Popper’s polemic against historicism and non-democratic States (i.e., the closed society), Adorno’s polemic against fascism (i.e., the authoritarian personality), and Lindsay’s polemic against Right-identitarianism (i.e., the woke Right). This is hardly an exhaustive list, and in fact, we may surprise ourselves with the number of publications and discourses that would merit including in this category of argumentation. We take for granted – because a piece of writing bears the stamp of institutional approval – that its primary aspiration is towards truth and knowledge. However, with a proper understanding of regime polemics we come to see that often, this is just not the case.

Returning to an earlier point: because regime polemics are definitionally paralogical, they are typically riddled with fallacies. This is, again, because the point of the polemic is not to disprove an idea or problematize some set of assumptions. Rather, the point is to delegitimize and discredit threats to the regime’s legitimacy and security. Propagandists of this type are encouraged to engage in bad faith, to lie, withhold, Gish gallop and misrepresent – to generally break the rules of critique and debate – anything at all is permitted so long as they can successfully deter or otherwise impair their political opponents.

It is not even necessary for a given propagandist to be successful at rebuffing the opposition’s argument nor that he or she demonstrates competency when crafting an argument (though this is certainly beneficial and lends a great deal of credibility to their cause), so much as the regime polemicist exhibits an aptitude for stymieing the efforts of the opposition (Steven Bonnell, also known as Destiny, is one such example of this). Whether this is achieved by a willingness to confront opponents or simply by virtue of their capacity to galvanize and entertain audiences through strategic non-engagement with the opposition (e.g., abstaining from direct confrontation while critiquing from a distance, or while in conversation with other interlocutors), regime polemicists may maintain their status by simply preventing the opposition from cultivating any sort of momentum.

When regime polemics masquerades as social science/political theory

“Quantity has a quality of its own”.

The meaning of this quote, often misattributed, variously, to Joseph Stalin, Carl Von Clausewitz, Vladimir Lenin, Napoleon Bonaparte, and Leonid Brezhnev, is simply this: that a certain level of accumulation affords its own kind of power and influence. This explains the maddening tendency observed all across contemporary culture for many decades now, whereby an individual amasses a following in some area – perhaps as an athlete, an entertainer, or through a given business venture – and takes that cache with them into weightier domains, such as politics, philosophy, or the pressing discourse of the day and finds an immediate credibility and influence amongst an entirely different (and often broader) audience. Such personalities often find themselves acting as propagandists for the regime, parroting the commonplace polemics of the day (and successfully too, I might add).

Through this sort of quantitative alchemy, an individual attains a level of credibility which they may apply to influence public opinion, effectively trading whatever craft they originally emerged from for a new role as regime propagandist. However, despite their fame and influence they often do not attain that truly coveted and elite level of validation which comes from formal accreditation; what these propagandists do bring with them into battle is social proof, which, in a decadent and deracinated mass society such as our own affords its own benefits and disadvantages.

Of the benefits: buy-in from large numbers of uncritical observers; the ability to guiltlessly deploy ad hominem attacks (as well as other, even more obvious fallacies). Of the disadvantages: a far briefer media half-life; and an upper limit on the ability to drive the conversation. In fact, the non-academic (or otherwise non-accredited) regime polemicist typically serves a rearguard function, by regurgitating ready-made arguments rather than innovating them. (There are exceptions to this rule, such as artists, musicians, and other “creative” types.) Because this type of regime polemicist draws their power, variously, from their youth, beauty, cultural relevance, or some other ephemerality, their time in the limelight is considerably shorter (recall that about a decade ago, actress Angelina Jolie was a highly visible political activist and is now nowhere to be found while Noam Chomsky – who quite literally appears to be on his deathbed – is still courted for public appearances and quotations).

This is why social scientists and academics are the most effective regime polemicists, because their institutional backing provides them the ability – and more importantly the credibility (which is to say, the authority) – to do the thinking for the greatest number of people. The uncritical observer defers to those who are most visible and most popular (i.e., horizontal propaganda), while the more technically minded within the audience defers to those individuals who are (or appear) most authoritative (i.e., vertical propaganda). It is this combination of technique and accreditation which lends gravitas to arguments which, without that veneer, would otherwise be transparently meritless. Owing to this combination of social and technical forces, the work of an academic regime polemicist is closer to that of hypnosis rather than analysis (persuading the masses via an impression of rationality).

How should we define a ‘conspiracy theory’?

At present, there are exactly two main problems with the term ‘conspiracy theory’. They are:

1. Its elasticity, thereby leading to inappropriate and mystifying overuse

2. Its pejorativity, resulting in the marginalization of both subject and speaker

The two are deeply related, for if we can cast doubt on that which is truly worth scrutinizing (by casting too wide a net, or by insufficiently substantiating our basis for scrutiny, for instance), we can also dismiss attempts to excavate some capital-T truth (or at the least, some causal relation). It is therefore necessary to formally define both the ‘conspiracy theory’ as well as the ‘conspiracy’ itself, if I am to be effective in my critique. Let’s begin with the former.

Elsewhere, I have defined the conspiracy theory as an attempt at an alternative account of some historical event. Implied in this definition is the existence of some other, more widespread or simply more objective (read: formally accepted) explanation. I gave formal titles to each of these two explanations: the ‘folk account of history’ and the ‘regime account of history’ (with the latter alternately termed ‘the consensus’ and ‘the cult of expertise’). This dichotomy represents the political tension which exists between the ruling class and the ruled, who, throughout each period of human civilization have existed in some state of tension or even disharmony. The emergence of the conspiracy theory as a discrete epistemological and social phenomenon, however, is certainly unique to our time – a time of advanced information and communication technologies, and of massified man (i.e., the mass society).

The ‘regime account of history’ is derived through the efforts of the political class (i.e., elected officials), typically in conjunction with technical experts, before finally being disseminated by mass media. The combination of these three classes, or aspects of mass society, not only works to produce the regime account but also to garnish it with its authoritative status. Upon crafting the new consensus, the particular explanation in question becomes validated by the status and ubiquity of those presenting it. It may be more or less plausible, comprehensive or incomplete, unifying or divisive, or even all of the above simultaneously. Particularly in the present era, the era of the postwar consensus (or what I have elsewhere termed ‘the permanent state of exception’), the ‘regime account of history’ need not even be especially effective in terms of persuasion. It must simply allow the ruling classes to continue the business of administering a given political formulation.

The ‘folk account of history’ may similarly be derived through the efforts of specific technical experts, or even networks of experts, in conjunction with some members of the ruling class (or not), and disseminated by some media apparatus, and numerically speaking, it may find itself delivered to and even accepted by a greater number of people than its rival regime account. We are certainly living through a time where any given conspiracy theory carries more plausibility with the masses than its attendant “official explanation”. This has not always been so, which, once more speaks to the unique circumstances we presently live through. Regardless of the reach or level of acceptance of a given folk account, or conspiracy theory, what is significant and therefore definitive of the folk account is that it does not receive formal validation by the State or ruling classes (hence its taboo status).

My last book, Understanding Conspiracy Theories, elucidates the meaning and relation of these two terms more fully, but what I have provided here is more than sufficient for our purposes. Having said this, it is worth elaborating further still on what precisely is meant by a conspiracy theory – specifically what the production of a conspiracy theory is intended to accomplish – if I am to lay the groundwork for a proper rebuttal of Hanania’s arguments. Put succinctly, a ‘conspiracy theory’ is defined by the presence of the following three elements:

1. An inquiry,

2. An investigation,

3. And a prosecution

With regards to the first element – the inquiry – all conspiracy theories begin with a question, e.g., “Who shot JFK?”; “How could 9/11 have happened?”; “Did we really land on the moon?”; “Does the government have weather manipulation technology?”; “Was there an industrialized genocide of six million Jewish prisoners during WW2?”; “Is Atlantis real?”; and so on. A conspiracy theory need not conform to any specific parameter or framework (at least, not beyond the loose outline sketched above) nor rely on any particular set of assumptions. The scale and severity may vary wildly from one inquiry to the next (which is to say that a given conspiracist may propose a very narrowly defined theory or a much further ranging one). He or she may hypothesize the existence of many conspirators or only a handful of collaborators. The conspiracy theory may necessitate the complicity of large numbers of other actors, who themselves may have varying degrees of knowledge about the aims and methods of the conspiracy or it may suggest none whatsoever. A given conspiracy theory may in fact be widespread and therefore discussed by large numbers of people, or it may be limited to a comparatively smaller discussion. As I have just outlined, there is no necessary limitation on the type of inquiry, or hypothesis, that a conspiracy theorist may propose. Because most disagreement about what constitutes a conspiracy theory is due to the overly rigid criteria imposed by those with pathological ego functions, let it be said that a conspiracy theory is only rendered legitimate (or actual) not by any a priori condition, but by its parsimonious and empirical basis. As with the disagreement on defining the term ‘conspiracy theory’, that which is deemed worthy of scrutiny (thereby warranting a ‘theory’) is almost always determined not by rational and empirical considerations, but by psychological ones.

The second aspect of the conspiracy theory – the investigation – aims to achieve two things: it seeks to establish both a chronology of events as well as a causality of agents. Said differently, every conspiracy theory proposes a timeline as well as a lineup (as in a police lineup). At least, competently executed conspiracy theories do, anyway. What this means, or rather, what it entails is the uncovering of some existing power structure or underlying relation of powers. It may therefore be said that conspiracy theories are, or at least incorporate into themselves, some form of power analysis. As part of this investigation, the competent conspiracy theorist seeks to determine both motive and method – that is, he or she attempts to identify just who might stand to benefit from the outcome of a given event and how they may have plausibly contributed to or exploited (if not outright orchestrated) the event(s) themselves. In doing so, the competent conspiracy theorist thereby provides a justification for his (or her) conjecture, to allay the suspicion of this suspicion from those more incredulous than the conspiracy theorist.

The third and final component of any legitimate conspiracy theory is the prosecution, for ultimately, the purpose of a conspiracy theory is to bring about justice. This desire to deliver justice, moreso than the desire to doubt or to uncover is what, in my opinion, constitutes the nature – the heart – of the conspiracy theory. It is worth establishing, therefore, an operational definition for the term ‘conspiracy’, and perhaps even to differentiate that which is merely ‘conspiratorial’ (as in innuendo, or even libido) from that which constitutes the ‘conspiracy theory’ proper so that I may better highlight the primacy of (and centrality to) justice within any discourse of conspiracy.

Conspiracies, like conspiracy theories themselves, are not defined by their scale or their level of severity. The Manhattan Project, for instance, would certainly qualify as a conspiracy though it may appear an inappropriate candidate for inclusion to some (that is to say, it was not dreamt up and executed by a small number of people sitting in a dimly lit, smoke-filled room). The Great Replacement, similarly, would also belong to the category of conspiracy despite the grand and sprawling nature of its operation. By the same logic but from the opposite side of the coin, your mother and father working in concert to maintain the charade of a yearly visit from Santa Claus does not constitute a conspiracy despite, in certain superficial ways, giving the appearance of one (i.e., a secretive scheme hatched by a select elite intended to deceive). Conspiracies are not primarily defined by their secretive or malicious nature, though they are often both. What conspiracies are, primarily, are discrete political operations intended to affect some critical objective. In this respect, secrecy and malice are of secondary importance to this definition (which is not to say that they are unimportant, rather, they are merely symptoms of a given conspiracy).

Because the nature or outcome of a given political objective may be undesirable for others, discussion of the matter is made taboo, hence granting it its mysterious and transgressive nature. There are, of course, certain subsets of topics within conspiracy discourse which do not accord with the definition I have provided and, as such, they must be understood differently. What may be called ‘magical’ or ‘mythical’ conspiracy theories, such as discussions about cryptids (e.g., the Loch Ness monster, El chupacabra, Bigfoot, etc.) accord more closely to my ‘folk account’ definition of the conspiracy theory by virtue of their close connection to certain geographical regions, thus making them an important part of some tribal folklore. Because of this folk status, such discourses challenge the hegemonic or paradigmatic understanding proffered by the regime. They are not of political importance, however, and should be understood as only peripheral or adjacent to a proper understanding of the conspiracy theory. Perhaps they are so different as to necessitate an entirely separate classification. The same may be said for so-called conspiracy theories about other (or inner) dimensions, entities, and objects of a psychic or supra-psychic nature; such inquiries fall outside the boundaries of conventional (that is, hegemonic) discourse thereby challenging existing rationalities. However, they are also not of direct or otherwise immediate political importance. If we are to include such discourses within our definition of ‘conspiracy theory’ surely they would be relegated to a secondary or even tertiary plane of relevance.

As such, a ‘conspiracy’ properly understood is some action, or series of actions, undertaken to achieve a given political objective, one that is both transformational and, importantly, outside the constraints of generally acceptable conduct. Assassinations, illicit experiments, propaganda campaigns, and related maneuvers all may be understood as ‘conspiracies’. I would include within this category any project or operation which seeks to withhold or prevent the possibility of a transformational political change from occurring. In suggesting this, I have in mind propaganda campaigns against historical revisions and alternative histories, such as investigations into pre or archaic history (e.g., Graham Hancock’s work) or even modern history (e.g., David Irving’s work). Such actions still accord with my primary definition of the conspiracy, i.e. some discrete action oriented towards a critical outcome, only the type of outcome here is different. Some conspiracies seek to bring about a revolution (or in other cases, merely a conclusion), others, to forestall them.

So, in the realm of legitimate discourse, we have conspiracies and conspiracy theories. Now, at the risk of being pedantic, I would argue that illegitimate discourses deal with that which is merely conspiratorial. Often solipsistic, superficial, and merely a form of play or fantasy, that which is just conspiratorial is preoccupied with the taboo elements of conspiracy discourse, and not the truth-seeking elements. The ‘conspiratorial’ is that which seeks to engage in simple transgression for transgressions’ own sake. Whereas conspiracy theorists transgress only to uncover some fact or truth (with an eye towards securing justice), the conspiratorial person sees transgression as its own end. By doing so, he or she participates in the creation of a culture of suspicion which stymies genuine understanding by obfuscating the relationship between cause and effect, and by mystifying the real nature of truly political conduct. Conspiracies are factual instances of history; conspiracy theories are attempts at a proper accounting of history (we might add to that, attempts at an accurate accounting of epistemology, ontology, and even ethics); conspiratorialism is the equivalent of intellectual anarchy.

What Richard Hanania gets wrong about conspiracy theories

It has been said, though I cannot recall by who, that man is most critical of the mistake he only recently stopped making himself. This can certainly be said to be true of Richard Hanania, whose late-career heel turn has seen him viciously rebuke the tendencies and ideologies of both the conservative and nationalist Right. While he still writes and speaks a great deal about the same topics he did back in the 2010’s (when he published for Counter-Currents under the pseudonym “Richard Hoste”), Hanania has spent the last few years aggressively distancing himself from that persona. Which isn’t to say he’s abandoned his prior convictions, rather he has refined them such that he may more effectively influence the mainstream conversation. By doing so, Hanania has evaded the dreaded fear of cancellation – at least more so than most. Owing to these adjustments, his work may very well inform developing policy initiatives.

Hanania has achieved this feat by effectively aligning himself with the progressive wing of techno-capital. The 2020’s iteration of Richad Hanania favors high-skilled legal immigration, tech optimism, eugenics and human biodiversity, as well as trans rights. Consequently, Hanania 2.0 detests the parochialism, anti-intellectualism, and the kookiness of the American Right. This combination of political hobby horses and bêtes noires finds Hanania perfectly suited for the role of regime polemicist.

Specifically, Hanania’s rhetoric and choice of targets places him within the tradition of the great regime propagandists of the 20^th century, namely Karl Popper and Richard Hofstadter. Both Popper and Hofstadter made hay deriding what I’ve termed the folk account of history, though, as I’ve demonstrated in my forthcoming book ‘Intolerant Interpretations’, the actual substance of their arguments are sorely lacking. Sadly for Richard Hanania, he fairs no better with his own anti-conspiracy theory polemics. It is worth demonstrating Hanania’s intellectual lineage now, before moving into the critique, to bolster my claim that Hanania’s arguments amount to little more than vulgar regime polemics.

As we will soon see, Hanania partakes of the same polemical strategy as Hofstadter and Popper, who both sought to denigrate and disincentivize the production of folk accounts (i.e., conspiracy theories) by making schizoidal suspicion an unjustifiably central feature of anti-progressive political thought. Rather than affirm the primacy of rivalry and subterfuge throughout the entire history of human endeavors, the two propagandists reduce the existence of these facts to a mere psychological tendency in the minds of irrational, unsophisticated, and uninformed rubes.

What Karl Popper called ‘the conspiracy theory of society’, Richard Hofstadter termed ‘the conspiracy theory of history’, and though the two polemics go by different names, they bear the same signature (para)logic. The thrust of their paralogical polemic (which we will see echoed by Hanania) is effectively this: individual people (or even groups of them) are not in the driver’s seat of history, and furthermore, their self-interested motivations and coordinations are not responsible for the unfolding of events in our time or any other. One implication which may be drawn from this logic (and, in fact, is made explicit in Hanania’s polemic) is that we should look towards institutions and abstractions to account for history’s various movements. Of course, this strains credulity for it forces us to accept that the institutions and ideologies which are created by man do not reflect his desires or motivations – that there is some essential disconnect between ourselves and the apparatuses we construct around ourselves. To be fair to this position, it is possible to fill this logical gap with further analysis, however, the polemicists who forward such arguments never attempt to do so. We are therefore left with paralogical explanations that do not offer any further clarification despite the pressing need for such an elaboration. This oversight reveals that these arguments are advanced merely to prevent any examination of the particular characters whose fingerprints stain history’s movement.

Let’s hear it, in their own words, starting with Mr. Hofstadter. In the section of his Pulitzer Prize-winning book “The Age of Reform” titled “History as conspiracy”, Hofstadter writes:

“There was something about the Populist imagination that loved the secret plot and the conspiratorial meeting. There was in fact a widespread Populist idea that all American history since the Civil War could be understood as a sustained conspiracy of the international money power.

The pervasiveness of this way of looking at things may be attributed to the common feeling that farmers and workers were not simply oppressed but oppressed deliberately, consciously, continuously, and with wanton malice by “the interests”. It would of course be misleading to imply that the Populists stand alone in thinking of the events of their time as the results of a conspiracy.

This kind of thinking frequently occurs when political and social antagonisms are sharp. Certain audiences are especially susceptible to it – particularly, I believe, those who have attained a low level of education, whose access to information is poor, and who are so completely shut out from access to the centers of power that they feel themselves completely deprived of self-defense and subjected to unlimited manipulation by those who wield power. There are, moreover, certain types of popular movements of dissent that offer special opportunities to agitators with paranoid tendencies, who are able to make a vocational asset out of their psychic disturbances. Such persons have an opportunity to impose their own style of thought upon the movements they lead. It would of course be misleading to imply that there are no such things as conspiracies in history. Anything that partakes of political strategy may need, for a time at least, an element of secrecy, and is thus vulnerable to being dubbed conspiratorial. Corruption itself has the character of conspiracy.

Indeed, what makes conspiracy theories so widely acceptable is that they usually contain a germ of truth. But there is a great difference between locating conspiracies in history and saying that history is, in effect, a conspiracy between singling out those conspiratorial acts that do on occasion occur and weaving a vast fabric of social explanation out of nothing but skeins of evil plots.”¹

Interestingly, Hofstadter offers up a very proto-Hananian argument when he suggests that the kind of person likely to indulge conspiracy theories is poor, uneducated, and powerless – he effectively describes them, in only so many words, as low human capital. He says this despite admitting that, 1) conspiracy theories often have a basis in truth, 2) those who feel they are being deliberately dispossessed have good reason for believing so (“corruption itself has the character of conspiracy”), and 3) such theories arise during times of internal conflict between social classes. Even more interesting is the fact that Hofstadter’s book, ‘The Age of Reform’, demonstrates that the Progressives of the late 19th and early 20th centuries often championed the very causes that Populists dedicated their lives to, suggesting that the problem of conspiracy isn’t psychological or ideological, but related to the social classes in question.

Remarkably, he admits that it is justifiable to articulate some conspiracy theories, but that the tendency to declare all historical events as conspiracies is illegitimate – a position that none articulated at the time of his writing, nor do people do so now, even amidst our current period of conspiracy-theory-oversaturation. Really, what Hofstadter appears to be arguing is for the reserved right to declare any given controversy as legitimate or not. In other words, Hofstadter’s argument is about sovereignty and authority, not history or logic, revealing him to be a regime polemicist.

Let us now turn our attention to Karl Popper and his essay, ‘The Conspiracy Theory of Society’, in which he declares:

“I should like to begin by describing a theory which is held by very many rationalists – a theory which I think implies exactly the opposite of the true aim of the social sciences. I shall call this theory the ‘conspiracy theory of society’. This theory, which is more primitive than most forms of theism, is akin to Homer’s theory of society. Homer conceived the power of the gods in such a way that whatever happened on the plain before Troy was only a reflection of the various conspiracies on Olympus. The conspiracy theory of society is just a version of this theism, of a belief in gods whose whims and wills rule everything. It comes from abandoning God and then asking: ‘Who is in his place?’ His place is then filled by various powerful men and groups – sinister pressure groups, who are to be blamed for having planned the great depression and all the evils from which we suffer.

The conspiracy theory of society is very widespread, and has very little truth in it. Only when conspiracy theroeticians come into power does it become something like a theory which accounts for things which actually happen (a case of what I have called the ‘Oedipus Effect’).

I think that the people who approach the social sciences with a ready-made conspiracy theory thereby deny themselves the possibility of ever understanding what the task of the social sciences is, for they assume that we can explain practically everything in society by asking who wanted it, whereas the real task of the social sciences is to explain those things which nobody wants – such as, for example, a war, or a depression.

It is the task of social theory to explain how the unintended consequences of our intentions and actions arise, and what kind of consequences arise if people do this that or the other in a certain social situation.”²

Popper actually goes a step farther than Hofstadter; whereas Hofstadter merely lambasts the skepticism which produces conspiracy theories, Popper attempts something like a counter-theory. Bad things happen not because individuals or groups conspire to bring them about, rather, they happen spontaneously and against our will. Catastrophic events like wars, economic downturns, and political revolutions happen despite our best intentions – social misfortunes are stochastic and unstable, like the weather. Good social theory eschews conspiracy thinking, which in Popper’s view is nearly always baseless, and instead tries to understand the unforeseen and the unplanned.

Mr. Popper also seems to suggest that conspiracy theories are necessarily deductive and not inductive, which is to say, that the theory comes first, implying a sort of unthinking and prejudicial basis to the production of conspiracy theories. No further accounting is attempted by Popper, however, leaving us with a convenient just-so story but no real analysis. This is, again, characteristic of regime polemics, the aim of which is not to promote better understanding but to foster the kind of prideful arrogance typical of the unthinking person. Popper makes a similar error here, when he declares that conspiracy thinking seeks to scapegoat some individual or group of individuals for “all the evils we suffer”; Popper’s anti-conspiracy polemic is even stronger than Hofstadter’s, for he does not even grant the possibility that some misfortunes or catastrophes are man-made, and thus worth scrutinizing. In Popper’s world, things merely happen, and that’s all. This essay makes excellent use of a pair of techniques which are common to most, if not all, regime polemics: thought-terminating cliches and non-sequiturs. After all, the purpose of regime propaganda is to suspend thought, not provoke it.

Having laid the groundwork, it is time at last to dissect Hanania’s anti-conspiracy polemic. Over the course of the examination, I shall make glaringly obvious not only Hanania’s status as a regime polemicist but his place in the Hofstadter-Popper tradition of propagandists.

Hanania’s essay, titled ‘The Rise of the Dale Gribble Voter’ updates Hofstadter’s polemic against pseudo-conservative paranoia by introducing his own coinage, ‘The Dale Gribble Voter’, a savage and unflattering characterization of the radicalized Trumpist Republican electorate. Richard Hanania composed this idea to explain the popularity of Trump-rival-turned-ally Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who, at the peak of his own presidential run polled nationally at around 5% (not enough to win, obviously, but enough to make a dent). As Hanania explains it, RFK Jr. belongs to an emergent milieu – one that includes personalities like Joe Rogan and Tucker Carlson – a mostly non-ideological coalition of patriotic and authority-skeptic centrists. Of the ‘Dale Gribble voter’, Hanania says this:

“So who exactly are Kennedy supporters, and what do they have in common? Allow me to suggest the term Gribble voters, named after the King of the Hill character known for his elaborate conspiracy theories and construction of bizarre fantasy worlds in which he is a hero oppressed by and occasionally doing battle with the forces of darkness. Granted, Dale Gribble was more clearly right-coded than what I’m going for here, and he likely would’ve been suspicious of someone like Rogan on cultural grounds. But given that, as I argue below, conspiracy theorists are consolidating on the right, we should expect this demographic to move in that direction.”

United less by consistent ideological commitments than a skepticism towards mainstream institutions and a belief that the world is run by shadowy forces, they have no particular attachment to either of the two political parties, but latch on to figures who appear to be on the fringes. Although practically all forms of distant authority are bad, this group particularly doesn’t like public health and the American national security establishment. Gribbles love speculating about UFOs, religion, Jeffrey Epstein, ancient texts, lost forms of technology, and the lost city of Atlantis, believing that they’ve uncovered hidden secrets about some or all of these topics.”

I don’t believe that the emergence of this constituency is a new phenomenon at all. In fact, it is more accurate to say that what we are observing is not the emergence of a new constituency, but rather, a new coalition within the political class – one that has arisen due to the sustained barrage of Trumpism aimed at Washington, D.C. Particularly when we take into consideration some of these other figures to rally around Trump (or, at least, Trumpism), e.g., Tulsi Gabbard, Joe Rogan, Tucker Carlson, RFK Jr., Russell Brand – to name only a few – what appears to have happened is that powerful figures (both in the political world as well as the world of popular culture), themselves alienated by the ever-escalating irrational hostility of the progressive hegemon, have made common cause with the only solid, credible force of resistance currently in existence: the Trump revolution.

While there have been shifts among the voting population (induced by Trumpism, I might add), what has coalesced into the Trump base has been quite solid, and if anything, has only expanded since 2015. Hanania himself points out that so-called ‘Gribbles’ are Trump friendly – are they not, then, merely an extension of the Trump Political Universe rather than a wholly discrete phenomenon? If RFK Jr.’s 5% support base reflects anything at all, it doesn’t indicate a new kind of voter so much as it points to a continuation in the ongoing trend of disillusionment among the existing voter base. On this very point, Hanania chides the ‘Gribbles’ for not being skeptical enough, arguing that their conspiratorial priors ought to lead them away from their preoccupation with Big Pharma and globalism, but towards skepticism of the Deep State. Observe his argument below:

“If Gribbles distrust authority in general, why so much specific focus on medicine and the foreign policy establishment? I think that, if you’re prone to see conspiracy theories and suspect that a group of elites is secretly running the world, then the US Deep State is the most plausible candidate. The US has military bases on every inhabited continent, and powerful intelligence services that have fomented revolutions abroad and overthrown foreign governments. International organizations to a large extent take their cues from Washington. Gribbles often dislike large corporations too, but some of them are more libertarian and don’t necessarily see private business as that bad. But they are united in their hostility towards the Pentagon, CIA, FBI, and NSA. Trump’s battles with the American security establishment endears him to this demographic.”

Since Richard provides no empirical data that RFK Jr.’s 5%’rs are not motivated by skepticism of the Deep State, I’m left wondering whether there is any merit to this criticism whatsoever. Moreover, RFK Jr. himself has made anti-Deep State talking points a feature of his campaign trail rhetoric, so it stands to reason that his ‘Gribble’ voter base sympathizes with such a view. That RFK Jr. eventually did ally with Trump and presently awaits confirmation for his role as health secretary demonstrates, at the least, a compatible hostility towards the Deep State on the part of both men and their respective constituencies. Furthermore, Mr. Hanania’s attempt to discredit the anti-authority tendencies of these so-called ‘Gribbles’ misunderstands the trajectory which conspiracy discourse has taken over the last half century (I discuss this in greater detail in my book, Understanding Conspiracy Theories).

Given these facts we must ask then, does the ‘Dale Gribble’ voter even exist or is he just a figment of Hanania’s overactive imagination? Is the ‘Gribble’ merely a contrivance which allows Hanania to persist in his anti-conspiracy theory polemics? Considering the following passage, one can only assume that the answer to these last few questions is a resounding “Yes”:

“In judging political figures, Gribbles are much more into vibes than policy, and practically everything except a conspiratorial outlook and hostility to foreign policy elites, the medical establishment, the mainstream media, and the Democratic Party is negotiable or not that important. If you look at the congressional voting records of Ron Paul and Tulsi Gabbard, they are on opposite sides of the political spectrum, but both are popular among Gribbles for being anti-interventionist and standing in opposition to the political establishment.”

Assuming one is opposed to the political establishment, it makes good sense to abstain from indulging policy-wonkishness in favor of an intuitive method that helps to identify sympathetic figures within the political and popular cultures. From this point of view, there wouldn’t be much more in the way of necessary criteria other than a candidate’s willingness to buck the system.

Hanania later muses over whether RFK Jr. could potentially succeed Trump, declaring it a possibility because “…the Low Human Capital types who make up the Republican base love celebrities.” This is a remarkable statement to make considering how much the Democratic party depends on celebrity engagement to galvanize its base. (Again, I direct your attention to the recent USAID scandal.) But to Steelman Hanania’s argument for a moment – not that he deserves such generosity – the Right, generally being on the outs with popular culture, is certainly starved for acceptance from mainstream personalities and does respond somewhat desperately when courted by more widely cherished cultural figures. This desperation also explains the Right’s willingness to cling to people like RFK Jr., because at least until recently, there were not many popular figures in good standing with liberal society who were willing to get involved in Republican political culture. The Right has long been an unsatisfactorily represented demographic within American politics, largely due to structural factors which go beyond the scope of this essay. Rather than demonstrate the intellectual honesty necessary to examine these social facts – instead of bringing a sober mind to what is obviously a contentious and poorly analyzed phenomenon – Hanania opts, instead, to pour gasoline on the fire by responsibilizing Republican-voting plebs for their lack of liberal credibility. Hanania’s analysis of the ‘Dale Gribble voter’ is nothing more than a revamped, 21^st century version of Hofstadter’s ‘paranoid style’ polemic, utterly lacking in his academic pedigree. In its stead, Hanania replaced it with a snark factor dialed to eleven.

As I bring this essay to a close, let us turn our attention to Hanania’s follow-up essay, titled “Left-Wing Ideologies Are Not Conspiracy Theories”. This essay is particularly egregious, in my view, largely due to the tremendous display of ignorance Hanania puts on. Or perhaps its arrogance, I will let you decide. Whatever the case may be, Hanania presents a set of arguments so wildly in contradiction with the ontic reality of the matter as to be wholly stupefying.

Hanania begins by asserting, rather non-controversially I might add, that “conspiracy theories have become central to right-wing discourse.” This is undeniably the case, and in fact some of my own writings have been devoted to this very observation. But this is not the whole story, and furthermore, the deeper meaning of this observation complicates Hanania’s observation in ways he is apparently unwilling to acknowledge. “Conservatives are overwhelmingly more conspiratorial”, Hanania declares, so much so that “it shouldn’t need to be explained”. It is only “tribal thinking” that could allow an individual to convince themselves otherwise, Hanania argues, proving my earlier assertion correct that regime polemicists imagine themselves to be perfectly objective analysts, utterly impervious to the shallow intellectual habits of the hoi polloi.

Aiming to rebuff the counterargument that “leftists believe in conspiracy theories too, like structural racism, Critical Race Theory, patriarchy, etc.”, Hanania offers his own definition of the term ‘conspiracy theory’. Modifying the definition provided by Google (“a belief that some secret but influential organization is responsible for an event or phenomenon”), Hanania adds that,

“The organization doesn’t have to be secret, or even an organization but rather just a group of people, and I would add that in common parlance, to suggest something is a conspiracy theory is to imply that it isn’t true.”

Hanania then offers up the following post, written by Bret Weinstein, as an exemplar of fallacious conspiracy thinking:

Mr. Hanania adds the following to further elucidate his disagreement:

“For example, it is clearly a conspiracy theory when Bret Weinstein, in talking about the Democrats, says “the true explanations for the party’s objectives are never shared in public.” He doesn’t explain what his theory is, but assures us that there is a shadowy group using the Democrats for its own purposes. If Weinstein had evidence for this, he could defend himself of the charge, but he characteristically doesn’t, so he is a conspiracy theorist.”

Setting aside the fact that his argument vindicates another one of my claims (i.e., that regime polemicists argue in bad faith, for the character limits imposed by the platform, in conjunction with the cognitive limits imposed by the medium, make Twitter/X a poor platform for the kind of exposition necessary for fully articulating such a complex thought; furthermore, if Weinstein’s argument, as presented, is insufficient then we might as well do away with more than half of the great sociological works of history – that is, if we are to wholly accept Hanania’s criteria), we may still Steelman Hanania’s argument. It is necessary, to borrow a bit of vernacular slang, to “show the receipts” when proposing a conspiracy theory. To modify Carl Sagan’s famous dictum, extraordinary claims require exacting evidence. In this way, Hanania’s own standard for a legitimate conspiracy theory is quite close to that which I have proposed in this essay: a credible theory offers up credible evidence, not just logical coherence.

Hanania proceeds to offer us some obvious examples of conspiracy theories (bear in mind his definition: an empirically unsupportable statement), of which include:

“Ideas like Bill Gates is using covid vaccines to microchip the population; Satanic pedophiles are secretly running the country; Democrats cheated to win the 2020 election; Trump is a Russian spy who was sent to do Putin’s bidding; and Covid was engineered in order to take away people’s individual liberties.”

The promulgation of such wild speculations is evidence of what I have elsewhere called hypermodern ‘suspicion-culture’; suspicion-culture is a term I developed which denotes the sum total of productive social forces which generate doubt, suspicion, or skepticism. I have only recently come to the discovery that my concept accords with an existing sociological tradition called agnotology, which is the study of deliberate and culturally induced doubt. That unjustifiable conjectures like the ones Hanania has highlighted exist is not an indictment of the conspiracy theory as such, rather, it is an expression of the wildfire-like spread of hopeless and malicious suspicion. A competent social theorist works to highlight the differences between legitimate conspiracy theories and illegitimate (and reckless) conjectures, while a competent regime polemicist labors to obfuscate the differences between the two.

Hanania continues:

“Many conspiracy theories tend to have their own non-conspiratorial versions of the same idea. The Great Replacement says that left-wing parties are importing voters to help win elections. If you believe that some leftists favor immigration in part for that reason, I would say that’s supported by evidence and not a conspiracy theory. If you think this is the main cause of migration or that leftists are thinking primarily about demographic replacement when formulating their views on how many people should be let into the country, I’d say this is a conspiracy theory because it presents an inaccurate representation of the world.”

As a brief aside, is worth problematizing the term ‘leftist’, for in my view the terms only justifiable use is as a form of shorthand, or political heuristic, and therefore has no place in proper analysis. But with regard to Mr. Hanania’s argument, that sanitized and politically correct equivalents of a given conspiracy theory exist does not disqualify the more radical expressions of what more or less amounts to the same idea. In fact, this simply speaks to the capacity for the regime to render particular subjects taboo, thereby rendering them unfit for polite conversation. So long as mass migration remains a controversial subject, for example, the ability to parse the number of motivations which inform such a policy as well as the priority of each one is basically impossible. Furthermore, the more taboo a given motivation is considered to be, the less willing an interlocutor is to assign it a higher-than-average priority. These are not disqualifying features of ‘The Great Replacement’ conspiracy theory, rather, they are social realities that regime polemicists must obfuscate.

Confident in the success of his polemic, Hanania argues further that:

“With this in mind, we can see why prominent left-wing ideologies do not count as conspiratorial beliefs. Critical Race Theory does not say that elite whites get together each Sunday night and plan how to hold black people down. According to an explainer from the Brookings Institution,

CRT does not attribute racism to white people as individuals or even to entire groups of people. Simply put, critical race theory states that U.S. social institutions (e.g., the criminal justice system, education system, labor market, housing market, and healthcare system) are laced with racism embedded in laws, regulations, rules, and procedures that lead to differential outcomes by race. Sociologists and other scholars have long noted that racism can exist without racists.

One doesn’t have to agree with Critical Race Theory to realize it is if anything explicitly anti-conspiratorial. It says that racism can exist even if no individual white is racist. The oft-repeated phrase “racism without racists” is key here. CRT would say that, for example, a long time ago, there was redlining, so blacks got stuck in worse neighborhoods, and that’s why they’re poor today. Or maybe that individuals working in the criminal justice system subconsciously think of blacks as criminals, so they are more likely to subject them to unjustified searches and give them long prison sentences. You can point out flaws in such beliefs without calling them conspiracy theories. They’re more similar to conservatives arguing that the media has a liberal bias. That obviously isn’t a conspiracy theory either, but rather a belief that explains outcomes in terms of the ideas and motivations of individuals.

Feminism is similar. The patriarchy isn’t a literal ol’ boys club that coordinates in order to hold women down. Feminists generally stress the power of stereotypes, societal expectations, and institutions that were originally designed with men in mind. Establishment liberalism also tends to shy away from conspiratorial thinking in its economic analysis. Neoliberals like Obama may occasionally demagogue certain issues, but mostly believe in economic forces like supply and demand. Warren and Sanders types are more likely to blame corporate greed for undesirable outcomes, which is further along on the paranoia spectrum.

Perhaps the most prominent leftist in the country who is a full-blown conspiracy theorist on economic issues is RFK. He believes things like demand for Ozempic is a result of the machinations of Big Pharma, when all you need to do is buy Americans three organic meals a day. This of course is the exception that proves the rule that rightists are the conspiracy theorists, as RFK was rejected by the left and has found a home in the MAGA movement.

After he lost the 2020 election, Trump made the idea that it had been stolen from him central to the messaging of the Republican Party. The man says that he would win California if only the votes were counted fairly. People make false comparisons with some Democrats arguing that 2004 and 2016 were stolen, but it was only on the Republican side that a stolen election narrative came to dominate politics and decide the outcomes of future state party elections and primary races.

This isn’t just a Trump issue, as right-wing influencers and politicians tend to go straight to conspiracy thinking regardless of what is happening in the news. Individuals as prominent as Ted Cruz and Vivek Ramaswamy have argued that Democrats were planning to replace Joe Biden with Michelle Obama. This got coverage in the conservative press as if it were a real possibility. Many of these people claimed vindication when Biden dropped out, but absolutely no evidence has emerged that there was a long-running plan to get him out of the race that existed before his disastrous performance in the presidential debate. There isn’t any equivalent to this on the Democratic side. No one ever said that there was a plot within the Republican Party to replace Trump with Laura Bush.

To take another example, when Nancy Pelosi’s husband was attacked at his home by a man wielding a hammer in 2022, The New York Timesput together a nice graphic of prominent figures in Republican politics and the conservative movement who started spreading conspiracy theories about the story, including the idea that he was attacked in the midst of having a gay affair.

Look, Democrats may have flaws. But if tomorrow Ivanka Trump got into a car accident, I promise you that you would not have rampant speculation by Chuck Schumer, Rachel Maddow, and Barack Obama that she was actually buying crack or driving to get an abortion at the time. Some left-wing influencers might suggest things like this, but they wouldn’t have the status of Trump, Ted Cruz, Tucker Carlson, and members of Congress.”

Earlier I observed that one technique employed by regime polemicists is the use of Gish gallop, which basically means the practice of generating a vast number of arguments without concern for accuracy or coherence. To rebut each point would take more time and labor than was necessary for producing these so-called arguments – and that’s the point. But in the interest of fortifying my own position, a quick rebuttal of the main arguments is possible.

1. There is a difference between identifying the juridical and cultural edifices constructed to realize a fully democratic and egalitarian America (i.e., CRT) and acknowledging the specific (and covert) coordinations which made such legislation possible. The former amounts to a transparent attempt to realize the discrete intention devised by interested parties who sought to expand the American franchise beyond its intended boundaries. Furthermore, the notion that a system could emerge that somehow does not reflect the desires of the people who instituted it is an explicitly Popperian idea which seeks to mystify the relationship between peoples and institutions. The proponents of CRT do, in fact, assume racism on the part of White Americans. This is a key part of their rhetoric and has been for at least 70 years.

2. While it is true that feminism began as an outgrowth of radically egalitarian liberalism, which is to say, it was a relatively organic expression of the implied morality of industrialized and Enlightened modernity, the promulgation of a feministic culture accords with any sensible definition of the word ‘conspiracy’. There were certainly economic and political factors which contributed to the development of feminism, but the promulgation of a chauvinistic feminine culture was made possible by the combination of sociobiological strategies of subversion in conjunction with an emerging intelligence wing of the federal government.

3. So-called ‘conspiracies’ about pharmaceutical industries (and large corporations more generally) have been part of the left-Liberal tradition for nearly a century. In fact, it is worth highlighting that many of the conspiracies which have found their way into right-wing discourse originated within educated, sophisticated, left-Liberal circles. The battering ram of Trumpism introduced many previously taboo ideas to the minds of average Conservatives, from skepticism of the military and intelligence agencies to outright hostility towards ‘Big Business’ and, really, corporations of every kind. The preponderance of conspiracy thinking on the Right ought really be understood as a ceding of territory by the Left. Left-Liberals gave up their anti-war, anti-capital, anti-corporation, and anti-government habits roughly after the election of Barack Obama. The intervening period between Obama’s first term and Trump’s insurgent campaign saw the Right adopting most, if not all these positions. These facts highlight the absurdity and shallowness of Hanania’s argument, for not only does it deny the historical transformations which took place, but it seeks to lambast the Right for, however haphazardly, adopting positions superior to those which it championed prior to Obama’s presidency.

4. The media literally gloated over stealing the 2020 election. While I was not an election-denier (in the strictest sense of the word) at the time, it was obvious that America’s most cherished democratic tradition had become a complete and utter sham. Really, it should be completely discrediting to suggest otherwise, at this point.

But Richard does not relent, insisting that:

“Republican conspiracy theories are at the center of conservative discourse and messaging. Conspiracy theorists on the left, in contrast, are usually marginalized. After the attempt on Trump’s life, one aide to a Democratic donor suggested it was a false flag. He was widely ridiculed in the press, and soon apologized. This type of thing of course doesn’t happen on the right, where conspiracy theorists instead build large followings and are never pressured to admit they were wrong about anything.”

That assassination-skeptic theories were marginalized does not speak to the self-policing of left-Liberalism, but rather to the cultural rightward shift which saw most Americans become unwilling to tolerate conjectures that contradicted their lying eyes. The inability of left-wing assassination conspiracy theories to permeate the broader culture was due to the total cultural victory of Trumpism, not because left-wing political culture is somehow more rational and empirical. One could only come to such a conclusion if they were ideologically committed to defending left-Liberal progressivism (like Hanania, the confirmed regime polemicist).

Wholly undeterred, Hanania suggests the unthinkable:

“Besides Critical Race Theory and other woke ideas, the other thing that Republicans point to in order to call Democrats conspiracy theorists is Russiagate. As with the Great Replacement, the term can encompass a lot of different beliefs. It is a conspiracy theory to think Trump was a Russian spy. But the evidence suggests that the idea that Russia hacked the DNC in order to help Trump win the 2016 election is likely true. Conservatives often use “Russiagate” as a shorthand for the craziest views held by anyone on the left, but it was in actuality a combination of reasonable and unreasonable beliefs about the relationship between the Trump campaign and Russia. (Israel not Russia)

Regardless, Democrats stopped talking about Russiagate after the Mueller Report in 2019. Meanwhile, Trump said that he should win California a few days ago. And Republicans in Minnesota just nominated this guy for Senate. (Literally didn’t)

It tells you something that conservatives need to go back to something that ended five years ago to claim Democrats are conspiracy theorists. Meanwhile, the most powerful and influential conservative figures in the country, especially their presidential nominee, are coming up with new conspiracy theories on a weekly or monthly basis as a regular part of the news cycle.”

It is now known that the extent of Russian infiltration of the 2016 election was relegated to a handful of Facebook ads, while, the Israeli influence campaign was rather profound. And while Democratic regime apparatchiks may have abandoned their ‘Russia, Russia, Russia’ rhetoric, the psychic damage done to the left-Liberal electorate persists. Anecdotal as it may be, I still hear my left-Liberal acquaintances cry “Putin!” whenever the topic of Donald Trump comes up. Conspiracy thinking is alive and well on the American Left, no matter what harebrained arguments Richard Hanania deigns to contrive.

In the closing paragraphs of his essay, Hanania offers one final, desperate paralogical argument:

“Why does this distinction matter? The conspiracy theorists versus ideologues divide is something that fundamentally splits high and low human capital. If you don’t see how conspiracy theories are different from false ideological beliefs, you fundamentally can’t understand the world. I’m interested in analysis, not taking the side of one tribe and then justifying everything it does by saying its opponents do the exact same thing or worse. Conservatives and liberals have different strengths and weaknesses in their ways of analyzing the world, but there’s no reason to believe that the thinking habits and norms of each tribe are equally conducive to discovering truth.

Smart people can convince themselves of false beliefs, but the stories they believe usually need a degree of internal coherence. Moreover, ideologues tend to have blinkered vision on a limited set of issues, but otherwise can be trusted to run institutions. I think this is an underrated reason why most scientists and journalists are leftists today. The media and the scientific establishments in the modern West have flaws, but they’re vastly superior to anything conservatives have been able to create. Especially among the MAGA wing of the right, there isn’t enough of a cultural orientation towards truth for them to be trusted with power. They prove this every day.”

Replete with non-sequiturs, thought-terminating cliches, false claims of objectivity, and self-aggrandizing aplomb, Richard Hanania’s closing arguments don’t even rise to the level of speciousness. A truly objective social theorist would recognize that America, as a whole, is plagued by conspiracist suspicion, and that furthermore, the crisis is entirely non-partisan. American conspiracism, as I have argued elsewhere, is not only baked in the cake but has been adding layer after layer since the dawn of the world wide web.

With each passing generation, Americans continue to lose their grip on reality, receding deeper and deeper into schizoidal disintegration. Out of one side of his mouth Hanania tells us that he has absconded from tribal thought while out of the other, delivers jaw-droppingly incredulous regime polemics in defense of progressive liberalism. It’s really a shame, because criticisms aside, Richard Hanania is truly a brilliant man. But he’s also a deeply cynical and perverse one, as well.

1. Hofstadter, Richard. 1955. The Age of Reform: From Bryan to FDR. Random House, New York. p. 70-71.

2. Popper, Karl. 2006. Conspiracy Theories: The Philosophical Debate. Routledge, New York. p. 13-15.