Conspiracy theories are a mental health crisis

No one's talking about the complex relationship between disinformation and mental health. That changes now.

(Admittedly a bit dated, 2021 article, but still relevant)


Every day, people who spend time online face a deluge of conspiracy theories, misinformation, and disinformation. Plenty of them move along, clicking past outlandish or false content that's designed to lure them in. Some, however, become ensnared for reasons experts don't fully understand. Thanks to algorithms, like the ones that drew many into QAnon, people quickly slip into dark corners of the internet and find a community of believers, or even zealots, who swear they've discovered hidden truths and forbidden knowledge.

These people might rightfully distrust government authorities, find political polarization invigorating, and search for information that confirms their own views, all of which could make them more vulnerable to falsehoods. Conventional wisdom says media literacy, fact-checking, and critical thinking skills are the best weapons against those impulses. Yet this approach rests on the dangerous assumption that people's emotional and psychological well-being has little bearing on their vulnerability to far-fetched ideas, elaborate lies, and cunning propaganda. In fact, recent research suggests that their mental health can influence what they're willing to believe.

Studies have shown that conspiracy theories appeal to people with unmet psychological needs. They crave knowledge, desire safety and security, and need to maintain positive self-esteem. Conspiracy theories, which may sometimes be true, help explain the unknown, giving people a deep sense of satisfaction. That relief, however, can be temporary. Past research shows conspiracy theories are associated with anxiety, social isolation, and negative emotions. Now a new wave of research conducted during the COVID-19 pandemic suggests a plausible connection between uncertainty, anxiety, and depression and an increased likelihood of believing conspiracy theories.

Perhaps with so much beyond understanding, people looked for answers wherever such revelations might be found. Insight was plentiful on YouTube, Facebook, Telegram, Twitter, and other media platforms where grifters, hucksters, and conspiracy theorists peddled the truth as they saw it to people who wanted what few could offer: certainty. That confidence became an antidote to the misery of not knowing what might come next.

Many of those drawn into communities that trafficked in conspiracy theories also found misinformation and disinformation. The former is shared without malicious intent. The latter, according to disinformation scholar Dr. Alice Marwick, Ph.D., comprises false information, distorted stereotypes, and mischaracterizations as part of a campaign of persuasion. Disinformation can include conspiracy theories presented as fact, and those who share disinformation typically refuse to admit when they're wrong.

People who immerse themselves in this swamp of "polluted information," particularly those with a deep attachment to QAnon, have anecdotally expressed preoccupation with and distress over solving riddles and clues, waiting anxiously for predictions to come true, fractured relationships with loved ones over their beliefs, and increased isolation. If their mental health hadn't been poor prior to their involvement in these online communities, it seemed to decline the deeper they got. Their friends and family have noticed. In one subreddit dedicated to people who've lost a friend or family member to QAnon, posters frequently despair over losing their loved one to what they often describe as a cult.

MORE:

https://mashable.com/article/mental-health-disinformation-conspiracy-theories-depression