Don't read this. It's about conspiracy theories.
Anoop Kumar, MD, MM
Building the new health system | Co-founder, Numocore | Emergency Physician
I remember when I took for granted that any theory considered a conspiracy was probably false. "I'm an open-minded guy, but I'm not gullible," I thought. My apparent open-mindedness was selective, however, because I was open-minded in only some ways–for example, regarding the relationship between consciousness and matter. That relative open-mindedness and readiness to challenge consensus views in school didn't include looking beyond my topic of choice.
In retrospect, the reason is obvious. There are volumes written across thousands of years on the primacy of consciousness. Some of the most respected figures in history would support or at least consider the primacy of consciousness over matter, even if most schools today would not. But that's not the case for theories that invoke the notion of conspiracy, which are less than a century?old and have become popular over the last few decades. “Pseudoscience” is bad, but “conspiracy theory” is worse.
What was the reason for my willingness to intelligently analyze the stories I was given and break from conventional thought in one area while neglecting others? What was the reason for my glaring cognitive dissonance??
Part of it was time. I was learning so much in one area that the mind simply didn't have the resources to devour another field. But an equally?true answer is I wasn't as smart or courageous as I would?have liked to believe. If I had been smart, I would have seen that?such a narrow-minded, defensive view of matter as that taught in schools likely indicates a range of narrow-mindedness and defensiveness across all subjects. But I didn't see that because it would require too much of me. Too much time,?too much effort, too much social?cred. It was easier to stick to just one area–consciousness.
By the time I got my medical degree, I couldn't not-see it any longer. It was obvious the allopathic medical system was using the brand of science and the publishing industry to promote its preferred physical and drug-based approach, whether or not it was the best way to heal. Most doctors, including myself, know that drugs can help people, and also know there is some degree of corruption (there’s a wide range of opinion on how much) that puts?drugs and profits over healing. This "both are true" scenario enables profound and sincere cognitive dissonance in well-meaning public health and healthcare staff like myself. It allows us to say and believe (with relative truth) that we are helping people so we don't really have to look too deeply into things or say too much. It allows us to accept authorities, funding strategies, journals, studies, expert panels, and consensus views as "true enough," because the time and courage to look through it all oneself?would take over one's life.?
This mixture of truth and falsehood, of helpfulness and harm, along with a peppering in of seemingly outlandish stories presenting the impossibility of penetrating discernment without the cost of your livelihood, is a big part of what paints all conspiracy theories with the air of already-refuted-by-experts and something-to-be-avoided. The phrase “conspiracy theory" appears to be today's version of the previously heavily stigmatized "mental illness"–a bad word whose very stigma prevents understanding. In fact, such language deserves close attention.
In my thirties, I decided it was time to engage what I had subconsciously avoided for so long. I dove into conspiracy theories. What made me uncomfortable is I didn't really know enough to know how much was true. I knew what I was supposed to think based on the general knowledge I had, which told me all of these conspiracy theories were obviously untrue, but at the same time, I hadn't really spent time digging into the sources to see what was true and false. I couldn't. It was like going through a maze. I had too much work to do. And I was a doctor. I couldn't be seen around conspiracy theories.?
It reminded me of innumerable conversations about consciousness I had with others who “knew” matter was fundamental because consciousness comes from the brain, obviously. Don’t the studies say so? Don’t the experts agree? Isn’t it obvious that when we die there’s no consciousness anymore? Nobody has come back from the dead, right?
The first few Google search?results were all I could muster over a few nights. One hyperlink led to another. Some were ghastly. Really not the way I wanted to spend an evening. On one hand, I had decades of education, and on the other, I had a few hours of internet reading–hardly enough to know what's what. It was obvious that really trying to figure out what seemed true would require much more. It wasn’t about how much information I could take in–I was good at that. It was more about developing a sense for what is reliable, what comes from fear, how that fear mixes with my fear, what comes from the desire for control, what may be unseemly yet true, what may be unseemly and false, and what was consistent with my values. It’s not unlike the ER, where some patients believe they are at death’s door yet are not, some believe it and indeed are, some don’t believe it and are not, and some don’t believe yet are. It’s a challenging maze of partial information, interpretation, partial truths, partial untruths, and fantastic tales. And, yes, there was a lot of information to integrate. Would I really spend years of my life–a decade or more perhaps, a bit at a time–to upgrade my knowledge and sensitivity to give things a fair assessment?
Ultimately, without planning to, I would do just that. Because I wanted to know for myself. The same spirit that drove me to explore consciousness to its marrow for a couple decades drove me to explore how its outer anatomy weaves stories and minds on this planet and beyond. I found that the more a source cared about whether a theory was about a conspiracy or not, the less diligent they were in caring about whether it was true or not. Eventually I would discern that there is a depth and consistency of corruption that I would have much rather not seen as part of this reality. I would have preferred it remained supernatural rather than practically relevant. I would have preferred to spiritualize it and see it from all sides all the time. But life didn't care much for what I preferred. My patients in the ER were suffering, and it hurt. You can’t really solve a problem like that without being willing to swim upstream.
What I found more interesting than any single conspiracy theory, however, is the specter they collectively represent. Most people would agree that executives at many corporations discreetly plan to make profit even if it might hurt the customer. (Notably, many executives also do not.) They likely hide some of their?plans from most others in the company, the government, and the general public. Some government officials do the same. In other words, they conspire. A theory that executives and officials are doing just that would be a conspiracy theory. Seen this way, with a true understanding of conspiracy, the vast majority of conspiracy theories would be true. People are conspiring all the time.
But this kind of sane, clear thinking is an exception if you would believe the first few Google search results and most media takes on conspiracies. Such theories, according to experts, are crazy, unscientific, signs of mental illness, or, at the very least, obviously false–and a few certainly do fit the bill of being false. On account of these false and potentially dangerous theories, apparently all theories of conspiracies are to be understood as outlandish, false, dangerous, and perhaps above all, a sign of being unintelligent. Thus, engaging in critical thinking at length about such theories can be profoundly unacceptable and subconsciously life-threatening to a person whose identity is built on doing the right thing and being smart enough to know what’s what. I know because I’ve felt it.
It was then I realized that, for two reasons, the biggest issue wasn't whether a particular conspiracy theory was true or not.
In other words, the bigger story isn't whether a few are conspiring to do something really, really bad, as important as that may be. The bigger story is that we publicly keep our distance from the whole lot without knowing how to engage and arrive at what is more true. That collective public avoidance and superficial engagement is what creates the environment for people to go down rabbit holes they can’t escape, believing theories that are false and disbelieving theories that are true.
If you've seen my work, you know I have a strong bend toward what people consider spirituality. The reason I add the phrase "what people consider" to that sentence is because I think the popular understanding of spirituality is too narrow. Subtlety of thought, good intention, an open heart, and open words are beautiful, but if, at the same time, we cannot speak plainly about things happening right in front of our eyes, and if we are resorting to humanist views in lieu of rather than in addition to plain speak about what is happening all around us, then it's time to make a change. At some point, either everything is spiritual or everything is not. And if it is, then spirituality as any particular domain ceases to exist. Life in its full spectrum presents itself.
Yesterday, I had a great conversation outside the grocery store with someone I met as I was interviewing people to get their take on health and healing. He said he was annoyed with people who didn't take the recent vaccine. He asked me what my view was as a doctor. I said it seems like the number of vaccines are ever-increasing, yet the number of programs to help people heal are not keeping pace. I think it has become easier to create vaccines and make people take them than to create systems that help people heal at scale, and I don’t like that. Neither do my patients. This topic weaves together personal finances, health, loved ones, and life and death. Is it any wonder the issue is divisive? There are many more arguments to be made on this topic–ones that all of us in healthcare and public health should all be discussing publicly–but how often do we see such dialogue happening? How often does it instead turn into a “prove my credentials” session or referendum on whether a theory is a conspiracy or not rather than how much of it is true or not and why? It is this reticence to engage and speak plainly, publicly, consistently, and comprehensively that is the real cause of distrust and stigma in healthcare and public health.?
I’m writing this because we need a new conversation. A new dialogue. Among all of us. While the context of conspiracy theories provides a titillating focus, this isn’t a nudge to start investigating them. This is an invitation to see that a process of discovery, as difficult or antithetical as it may be to one’s beliefs, ranks higher on the chain of what serves us as a society than knowing the answer. Engage the process. Discover health.
Digital Nomad
6 个月Great perspective