The Boys from the Bogs

What follows is a post from Stellafane on the JREF forum. The thread was specifically talking about Conspiracy Theories, but this beautifully written theory could be applied equally well to any woo belief...

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Why people believe in CTs is a very complex issue, for which whole books could no doubt be written. But I think that even before we can begin to tackle that question, we need to address a more fundamental one: how can people believe in CTs? By what mental mechanism do they continue to support an idea that is so obviously untrue, that defies all evidence and logic and reason? And even more perplexing from the viewpoint of the JREF forum, why do some CTers come here of all places, in what for them must seem the heart of enemy territory, to be repeatedly subjected to what any sane and rational person would consider total humiliation?

Just look at this very thread for examples. How can anyone do this to themselves? What possible purpose can this serve in their lives? When considering answers to these questions, I’m reminded of an incident that occurred many years ago at a bachelor party. I’m sure it’ll seem apropos of nothing, but please bear with me a minute.

At this party I met a young man I’ll call Mark. Within a minute of our get-acquainted conversation, he launched into a long, detailed monologue about his high-school days when he and his friends got together each winter to play hockey on the frozen cranberry bogs of southeastern Massachusetts. They styled themselves “The Boys from the Bogs,” and they played with such diligence and fervor that after a while they could easily defeat their less-obsessed peers – successful enough, in fact, to convince themselves that they might actually be as good as the professionals they religiously followed on TV.
“Our style was just perfect for the NHL” insisted Mark. “We played physical and didn’t worry about all the fancy [stuff],” which I suspect meant they made up for their lack of skill and finesse by slamming into each other a lot.

Mark told his story with a great deal of animation and enjoyment. The excitement in his eyes and gesticulations, the way he repeated the name “The Boys from the Bogs” slowly, as if savoring its alliterative resonance and the memories it evoked, made it obvious that he was retelling what in all likelihood were the happiest years of his life. Eventually the Boys graduated high school and went their separate ways.

Mark found himself in California, where he happened to see in the newspaper that a local minor league hockey team was holding tryouts. Here, it would seem, was his big chance, an opportunity to demonstrate the skills he had so carefully honed on the frozen bogs back home. So he gathered up his equipment, got ready to go to the tryout – and didn’t. Something held him back; he never went to that tryout or any other, and by the time I met him years later, Mark was working as a guard at a prison for the criminally insane (where, one may presume, his board-checking ability may have finally found some practical application).

“I should have gone” Mark told me. “I don’t know why I didn’t.” But I think I do, or at least can hazard a guess: It wasn’t worth the risk.

True, a tryout was the only possible way an unknown like Mark was ever going to take his rightful place among his hockey-playing heroes. But at some level, he must have known that there was a good chance he and his fellow Boys had been deluding themselves all along, that they weren’t really professional caliber, and that the tryout would end in failure.

So Mark weighed the possibilities, and in the end concluded it just wasn’t worth it – it was better to keep his fantasy alive, even if it meant never actually realizing his dreams. He preferred not knowing.

I think people who believe in conspiracy theories often follow the same model as Mark and his friends. They want, perhaps need to believe in a particular CT (and again, why they have this desire/need is another question entirely). So they buy into the CT, repeat its mantas, doggedly insist they believe it – but never, ever really want to find out for certain whether or not it is actually true.

Because if they did, then like Mark their little fantasy world might evaporate.

So CTers spend their time “just asking questions” for which they have no interest in learning the answers. The questions are enough, because as long as they remain willfully ignorant of the answers, they can convince themselves that their CT is viable, that the matter is still open to debate. From their ignorance they derive purpose and meaning, and it must be preserved at all costs.

Of course, the CTers who come here to the JREF forum take this one step further. It’s as if Mark and the Boys showed up at an NHL practice and heckled the pros, shouting “You guys are playing all wrong. We could kick your ass out there!”
“Well, come on down and show us” we might reply.

Of course, these CTers will never really “take the ice” against us; they just keep repeating the same old tired, utterly debunked crap, ignoring the mountains of contrary evidence we spoon feed them. And then, in their crowning achievement of denial, they smugly proclaim victory. I suppose the CTers who come to this forum do perhaps deserve a bit of credit for representing the somewhat bolder elements of their communities in that they are at least willing to enter into the arena. Unfortunately, their courage only seems to extend that far, and no further. They always remain in the stands, heckling from behind the safety of the glass, never willing to venture onto the ice to engage in serious, honest debate.

Instead, like the erstwhile Boys from the Bogs, they have chosen to preserve their little fantasy world, forever living in a past that never really was.

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Post stolen with permission of the author