Matthew Dentith

Some philosophers claim that, in ordinary language, when non-philosophers refer to ‘conspiracy theories’ such people take it that conspiracy theories are—in some sense—_mad, bad, or dangerous_. These philosophers then argue that academics interested in studying conspiracy theories should keep their operating definition close to that notion. I will challenge this by first arguing that whatever the ordinary language conception of ‘conspiracy theory’ might be, the notion that these philosophers are pointing to is _at best_ contrary and _at worst_ contradictory with their own work. Secondly—using the psychological literature as an example—I will show that academic non-philosophers do not seem interested in the folk or ordinary language notion of ‘conspiracy theory’ anyway. Thus the argument for what we might call ‘ordinary language generalism’—the position that generally it is recognised by users of ordinary language that there is something inherently _mad, bad, or dangerous_ about conspiracy theories—fails. However, we can capture some of the intuitions behind ordinary language generalism by focussing on the kinds or sub-types of conspiracy theories that interest us.

Examining some recent projects in the philosophy of conspiracy theory theory (the academic study of conspiracy theories) that portray belief in conspiracy theories as in some sense generally bad, I argue that such projects are prone to failure. They either rely on overly restrictive definitions of what counts as a ‘conspiracy theory’ (i.e. they turn out to be about a subset of such theories), or overly permissive definitions of what falls under the label ‘conspiracy theory’ (i.e. the account ends up including a lot of beliefs we typically—and for good reason—tend not to consider problematic). I then argue that a further problem is that many of these projects tend to change the subject or topic of debate rather than work with the emerging philosophical consensus (AKA particularism) of a non-pejorative definition of ‘conspiracy theory’.

ABSTRACT Central to the particularist project, one that has become the consensus in the philosophy of conspiracy theory theory, is the claim that a general dismissal of these things called `conspiracy theories' is unsustainable. That is, if we want to say a conspiracy theory is suspicious such that we should not believe it, then we have to engage in at least some investigation of it. Particularists have detailed just why a general attitude of skepticism towards conspiracy theories is implausible; they have, in effect, created the case against generalism. The case for particularism, then, has largely been about challenging and rebutting generalist arguments. But what of the bigger picture? If particularists argue that we should not assume conspiracy theories are mad, bad, or dangerous but, rather, investigate them, then how should we go about that investigation? In this paper I describe (some) of the preliminary concerns the particularist (and the generalist) needs to account for when developing an ethics of investigation into these things called `conspiracy theories.' Whilst this paper does not provide a framework for the investigation of conspiracy theories, it provides the framework for such a framework.

This introduction to this special issue of Inquiry looks at recent work in the philosophy of conspiracy theory theory. Looking at two related worries expressed in the wider conspiracy theory theory (the academic study of conspiracy theories) – the Problem of Conspiracy Theories and the Problem of Conspiracy Theorists – this special issue argues that recent work in the philosophy of conspiracy theories is getting all the more closer to not just an epistemic understanding of what, if anything, is wrong with belief in conspiracy theories, but also a framework for both investigating conspiracy theories and understanding how we should talk about the beliefs of conspiracy theorists.

This introduction to this special issue of Inquiry looks at recent work in the philosophy of conspiracy theory theory. Looking at two related worries expressed in the wider conspiracy theory theory (the academic study of conspiracy theories) – the Problem of Conspiracy Theories and the Problem of Conspiracy Theorists – this special issue argues that recent work in the philosophy of conspiracy theories is getting all the more closer to not just an epistemic understanding of what, if anything, is wrong with belief in conspiracy theories, but also a framework for both investigating conspiracy theories and understanding how we should talk about the beliefs of conspiracy theorists.

In the philosophical debate over the epistemic status of conspiracy theories, the view that each theory ought to be judged on its own merits, ‘particularism’, has the upper hand. But challenges to this view continue to be put forth; this paper summarizes that debate and reaffirms the particularist perspective. In this paper, we address how different conceptions of what counts as a ‘conspiracy theory’ impact how one might evaluate particularism, with specific emphasis on (1) a ‘simple definition’ of a conspiracy theory as a theory that posits a conspiracy, and (2) ‘contrarian conspiracy theories’ (those that contrast with an official account).

The contributors to this volume argue that whilst there is a commonplace superstition conspiracy theories are examples of bad beliefs (and that the kind of people who believe conspiracy theories are typically irrational), many conspiracy theories are rational to believe: the members of the Dewey Commission were right to say that the Moscow Trials of the 1930s were a sham; Woodward and Bernstein were correct to think that Nixon was complicit in the conspiracy to deny any wrongdoing in the Watergate Hotel break in; and if we either accept the terrorist events of 9/11 were committed by Al-Qaeda, or that the Bush Administration was responsible, then it seems we are endorsing some theory about a conspiracy to commit an act of terror on American soil. As such, there is no reason to reject conspiracy theories sui generis. This volume challenges the prima facie that conspiracy theories are irrational beliefs, arguing that we should treat conspiracy theories and the phenomena of conspiracy theories seriously. It presents fresh perspectives from the wider philosophical, sociological and psychological community on what is becoming an issue of increasing relevance in our time.

Conspiracy theories are typically thought to be examples of irrational beliefs, and thus unlikely to be warranted. However, recent work in Philosophy has challenged the claim that belief in conspiracy theories is irrational, showing that in a range of cases, belief in conspiracy theories is warranted. However, it is still often said that conspiracy theories are unlikely relative to non-conspiratorial explanations which account for the same phenomena. However, such arguments turn out to rest upon how we define what gets counted both as a ‘conspiracy’ and a ‘conspiracy theory’, and such arguments rest upon shaky assumptions. It turns out that it is not clear that conspiracy theories are prima facie unlikely, and so the claim that such theories do not typically appear in our accounts of the best explanations for particular kinds of events needs to be reevaluated.

Michael Shermer recently attacked Freeman Dyson for putting forward the claim that there might be something in paranormal claims after all. Whilst I agree with Shermer on many points, I do think you can put forward a plausible theory as to why the Natural Sciences may not describe all phenomena, and that the undescribed phenomena might well be called 'paranormal' because of it. In this paper I will put forward the view that the language of the Natural Sciences may not be descriptive of all things in the world but that this does not mean that the undescribed items are in anyway 'spooky.'

Conspiracy theories are often portrayed as unwarranted beliefs, typically supported by suspicious kinds of evidence. Yet contemporary work in Philosophy argues provisional belief in conspiracy theories is at the very least understandable---because conspiracies occur---and that if we take an evidential approach, judging individual conspiracy theories on their particular merits, belief in such theories turns out to be warranted in a range of cases. Drawing on this work, I examine the kinds of evidence typically associated with conspiracy theories, and show how the so-called evidential problems with conspiracy theories are also problems for the kinds of evidence put forward in support of other theories. As such, if there is a problem with the conspiracy theorist's use of evidence, it is one of principle: is the principle which guides the conspiracy theorist's use of evidence somehow in error? I argue that whatever we might think about conspiracy theories generally, there is no prima facie case for a scepticism of conspiracy theories based purely on their use of evidence.

Drawing on work by philosophers CAJ Coady and David Coady on the epistemology of rumours, I develop a theory which exploits the distinction between rumouring and rumour-mongering for the purpose of explaining why we should treat rumours as a species of justified belief. Whilst it is true that rumour-mongering, the act of passing on a rumour maliciously, presents a pathology of the normally reliable transmission of rumours, I will argue that rumours themselves have a generally reliable transmission process, that of rumouring, and should be considered to be examples of warranted beliefs. My argument will also touch on the association of rumours with another class of beliefs that are usually considered to be suspect, conspiracy theories. I will argue that whilst rumours are reliable (as a mechanism for the transmission of justified beliefs) the analysis of the transmission of conspiracy theories requires us to realise they are different to rumours in some important respects.