Using the example of recent attempts to engineer the concept of conspiracy theory, I argue that philosophers should be far more circumspect in their approach to conceptual engineering than we have been – in particular, that we should pay much closer attention to the history behind and context that surrounds our target concept in order to determine whether it is a site of what I have elsewhere called ‘conceptual domination’. If it is, we may well have good reason to avoid (...) engineering. In their recent ‘What is a Conspiracy Theory?’, M. Giulia Napolitano and Kevin Reuter argue that the disagreement between generalists and particularists in the literature on conspiracy theories is best characterized as a set of dueling conceptual engineering projects. While I agree with their turn to this metaphilosophical literature, I give a very different account of its applicability. Particularists, on my account, are better read as aiming to diagnose the ways in which many discussions of the concept of conspiracy theories are a form of conceptual domination, where this broader context should then prompt us to abandon or block any concept of conspiracy theory that treats its referents as inherently defective. Broader metaphilosophical lessons are drawn. (shrink)

The simplest and most natural definition of the term ‘conspiracy theory’ leads us to the conclusion that we are all conspiracy theorists. Yet, I claim that most of us would not self-identify as such. In this paper I call this the problem of self-identification. Since virtually everyone emerges as a conspiracy theorist, the term is essentially theoretically fruitless. It would be like defining intelligence in a way that makes everyone intelligent. This raises the problem for theoretical fruitfulness, i.e. the problem (...) of how to define the concept in a theoretically fruitful way. I suggest that these problems are currently causing confusion in the literature and present us with a dilemma, the conspiracy definition dilemma. I will present an analysis of the literature and what are on my reconstruction the solutions on offer, and argue that none is satisfactory. Either a) the solution will solve the problem of self-identification or b) it will potentially provide a theoretical fruitful definition, but no account does both. (shrink)

Napolitano (2021) argues that the Minimalist Account of conspiracy theories—i.e., which defines conspiracy theories as explanations, or theories, about conspiracies—should be rejected. Instead, she proposes to define conspiracy theories as a certain kind of belief—i.e., an evidentially self-insulated belief in a conspiracy. Napolitano argues that her account should be favored over the Minimalist Account based on two considerations: ordinary language intuitions and theoretical fruitfulness. I show how Napolitano’s account fails its own purposes with respect to these two considerations and so (...) should not be favored over the Minimalist Account. Furthermore, I propose that the Minimalist Account is the best conception of ‘conspiracy theory’ if we share Napolitano’s goal of advancing the understanding of conspiracy theories. (shrink)

A second-order conspiracy (SOC) is a conspiracy that aims to create (and typically also disseminate) a conspiracy theory. Second-order conspiracy theories (SOCT) are theories that explain the occurrence of a given conspiracy theory by appeal to a conspiracy. In this paper I argue that SOC and SOCT are useful and coherent concepts, while also having numerous philosophically interesting upshots (in terms of epistemology, explanation, and prediction). Secondly, I appeal to the nature of two specific kinds of second-order conspiracies to make (...) the case for what has been called ‘local generalism’ (Stamatiadis-Bréhier 2023a). Specifically, I focus on so-called ‘denial industries’ to argue that the structure of these second-order conspiracies allows us to infer non-accidental generalisations about the domain of conspiracy theories. Even though it is true that there is nothing epistemically problematic with the general class of conspiracy theories, there are specific subsets of conspiracy theories that warrant immediate strong suspicion (cf. Dentith 2022). By looking at the intricate mechanisms by which these denial industries operate, we can infer that the conspiracy theories that are produced by them are epistemically unwarranted. I conclude by making some exploratory remarks about what the metaphysics of second-order conspiracies would look like. (shrink)

Looking at the early work in the philosophy of conspiracy theory theory, I put in context the papers in this special issue on new work on conspiracy theory theory (itself the product of the 1st International Conference on the Philosophy of Conspiracy Theory held in February 2022), showing how this new generation of work not only grew out of, but is itself a novel extension of the first generation of philosophical interest in these things called ‘conspiracy theories’.

I argue that ‘conspiracy theory’ and ‘conspiracy theorist’ as commonly employed are ‘tonkish’ terms (as defined by Arthur Prior and Michael Dummett), licensing inferences from truths to falsehoods; indeed, that they are mega-tonkish terms, since their use is governed by different and competing sets of introduction and elimination rules, delivering different and inconsistent results. Thus ‘conspiracy theory’ and ‘conspiracy theorist’ do not have determinate extensions, which means that generalizations about conspiracy theories or conspiracy theorists do not have determinate truth-values. Hence (...) conspiracy theory theory – psychological or social scientific research into conspiracy theorists and what is wrong with them – is often about as intellectually respectable as an enquiry into bastards and what makes them so mean. (shrink)

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. (shrink)

One issue within conspiracy theory theory is whether, or to what extent, our central concept – – should map on to the common, lay sense of the term. Some conspiracy theory theorists insist that we use the term as everyday people use it. So, for example, if the term has a pejorative connotation in everyday parlance, then academic work on the concept should reflect that. Other conspiracy theory theorists take a more revisionist approach, arguing instead that while their use of (...) the theoretical concept should bear some relation to its use in natural language, it need not follow it subserviently. I argue that elements of this debate mirror related debates that were prominent in the philosophy of mind in the 1980s over folk psychology and eliminative materialism (debates that continue today, such as within the philosophy of perception and theories over how to individuate the senses). Then, there was a debate over whether the concepts of commonsense psychology, such as or, should be treated as theoretical posits, and hence open to significant revision or elimination, or whether they were instead the targets of explanation. I will argue that an eliminativist approach to has significant merit. (shrink)

In an opinion piece in the Los Angeles Times (08/06/2022), entitled Alex Jones is no kind of ‘theorist’, LZ Granderson writes that although the ubiquitous recent ‘conspiracy theorist’ of American journalism is Alex Jones, that appellation is not appropriate. He argues that Jones rarely ‘theorizes’ about events; he simply lies about them. In past work, I have argued that the starting points of many conspiracy theories are two forms of errant data: ‘unaccounted for’ data and ‘contradictory’ data. But Granderson’s critique (...) raises two additional starting points, both of which are forms of falsehood: lies and what I call fabricated facts. Many conspiracy theories take as their starting point various forms of falsehood; this source points to a kind of conspiracy theory that is pernicious precisely because it is not offered in good faith as a theoretical explanation of events. I compare conspiratorial explanations to scientific explanations to see whether similar erroneous starting points exist there. I conclude that they do, and as with conspiracy theories, they often reflect a guiding influence of value-laden agenda that go beyond a mere attempt to accurately explain target phenomena. (shrink)

In conspiracy theory philosophy the primary debate has been epistemic, but the concern is now also shifting to the ethical and political implications of taking conspiracy theories seriously. This shift is epitomized in the work of Quassim Cassam, whose focus has moved away from the epistemic faults of the theories and theorists to the political function of conspiracy theories. This function, he argues, is to ‘express and promote an ideology’, specifically, racist, antisemitic, and extremist ideology. In this essay, I will (...) challenge two of Cassam’s assumptions. First, I will disagree with his claim that racist conspiracy theories ought to be treated dismissively as a class. This is due in part to the difficulties in defining racist conspiracy theories and due in part to what I call the Conspiracy Theory Location Problem, which is the challenge of identifying what constitutes ‘the theory’. In response, I suggest we need to be even more particularistic about ‘instances’ of a theory. Second, I disagree that the only function of conspiracy theories is to promote racist ideology. Instead, I argue that there exists a class of antiracist conspiracy theories that resist white supremacy by uncovering racist conspiracies and challenging racist institutions, systems, and ideologies. (shrink)

In an historic moment in Dutch politics, the entire cabinet left the House of Representatives during a debate due to extreme right politician Thierry Baudet's conspiracy-laden speech. After espousing a variety of conspiratorial claims, Baudet accused the Minister of Finance, Sigrid Kaag, of being a secret agent for a global Deep State since her studies at Oxford. The accusation prompted Kaag and the entire cabinet to exit the chamber. While some MPs defended Baudet's right to speak, others supported the chair's (...) decision to silence him for violating the rules. These events showcase the divisive potential of conspiracy accusations in politics, causing polarised reactions. Our analysis delves into the dynamics of conspiracy accusations, their impact on polarisation, and the role of intended audiences (as opposed to general audiences) in both advancing accusations and shaping responses thereto. We argue that Baudet's tactics aimed at capitalising on the polarisation his accusations generated. We argue further that dismissing conspiracy accusations too hastily can deepen public distrust in elected officials, emphasising the need for caution in handling such claims. Ultimately, we highlight the broader pattern of conspiracy accusations being employed to fuel political polarisation, raising questions about their role in democratic deliberation. (shrink)

In a recent paper, Nader Shoaibi (2024) makes a valuable contribution to the discussion on genealogies and conspiracy theories (CTs) by focusing on a particular kind of genealogy: what he calls 'political genealogies'. Roughly, political genealogies are not so much interested in the epistemic warrant (or rationality) of a given belief or theory. Rather, their function is to illuminate the social and political conditions that give rise to the spread of (unwarranted) CTs. Shoaibi also notes that such genealogies have an (...) important normative dimension: by drawing on the social/political conditions surrounding CTs we are also invited to engage in a ‘constructive strategy’ concerning CT-believers. This strategy, according to Shoaibi, can be cashed out in terms of ‘world-travelling’ which, as per feminist philosopher Maria Lugones, involves radical humility and playfulness. I agree with a lot of what Shoaibi has to say in his paper. I find his notion of CT political genealogies philosophically fruitful since it carves out what I take to be novel conceptual space in the literature. And I welcome the appeal to ‘world-travelling’ when dealing with proponents of unwarranted CTs. In this piece I respond to some of Shoaibi’s worries against epistemic genealogies, and I raise a concern about the possibility of political genealogies being hijacked by malicious actors. I also make some preliminary remarks about what could be called 'genealogical pluralism' about CTs, while also arguing for the primacy of epistemic genealogies. (shrink)

This article starts by defining instrumentalized knowledge (IK) as the practice of selectively valuing some set of reliable beliefs for the promotion of a more generally false or unreliable worldview. IK is typically exploited by conspiratorial echo chambers, which display systematic distrust and opposition towards mainstream epistemic authorities. We argue that IK is problematic in that it violates core epistemic virtues, and this gives rise to clear and present harms when abused by said echo chambers. Yet, we contend, mainstream epistemic (...) authorities (MEAs) are also complicit in practices resembling IK; we refer to these practices as instrumentalized knowledge* (IK*). IK* differs from IK in that the selective valuing of beliefs corresponds to a ”reliable” worldview, namely, one independently verified by the relevant epistemic experts. We argue that IK*, despite its apparent veracity, is also problematic, as it violates the same epistemic virtues as IK despite its aim of promoting true beliefs. This, we argue, leads it to being counterproductive in its goal of producing knowledge for the sake of the pursuit of truth, thereby raising the question of what distinguishes virtuous from nonvirtuous practices of instrumentalized knowledge. In an attempt to avoid this violation and to distinguish IK* from IK, we investigate whether and how IK* could still be epistemically virtuous. We conclude that IK* can be virtuous if its goal is to produce understanding as opposed to mere knowledge. (shrink)

A central debate in the conspiracy theory research concerns how to understand conspiracy theories in a theoretically fruitful way given our research interest to study the nature of such theories and those who believe in them. However, far from settling on one account, this is still an on-going dispute in which researchers take widely different positions. For instance, while some argue for a purely descriptive understanding, others seem strongly committed to the view that conspiracy theories are, or can be shown (...) to be, inherently irrational. In an attempt to reconstruct this controversy, I argue that the disagreement arises because there are in fact two distinct motives underlying scholarly studies in the field: to attain objective knowledge of the phenomena in question versus to defend beliefs and norms that are part of the researcher’s own cultural context. This paper examines the epistemological and methodological challenges in the study of conspiracy theories, focusing on how competing frameworks—normative cultural biases versus objective scientific inquiry—shape our understanding of rational belief. I argue, finally, that if the motive is to attain objective knowledge, there is no serious alternative to the descriptive understanding of conspiracy theories. (shrink)

This paper argues that the allure of conspiracy theories lies in their evolutionary origins, specifically in our capacity to communicate unrepresented threats. Drawing on threat-detection psychology and error management theory, it posits that these theories serve as adaptive responses to perceived threats and social coalition-building, rather than as flaws in reasoning.