As evangelicals, we’re still trying to assess and find our footing after the cultural upheaval, COVID lockdowns, widespread political violence, and contested elections that took place starting with the polarizing election of Donald Trump in 2016. In one 2023 response, editors Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock recruited a couple dozen evangelical academics to exhort people in the pews to steer clear of conspiracy theories and dissenting opinions. Some of them are old friends and professors from my own graduate education. We enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many a challenging philosophy course at Biola University. I feel an affection and appreciation toward them. Nevertheless, apart from a lot of unobjectionable and commendable epistemological advice, Qanon, Chaos, and the Cross (QCC) mostly manages to learn and teach exactly the wrong lesson from these tumultuous years. Captive to a technocratic, institutional, and partisan mindset, the book discourages average Christians from “doing their own research” and questioning government sanctioned experts. As one who witnessed these events and unadvisedly did just that, I aver: this recent history cries out not for less but more critically engaged citizens who will publicly question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with the spirit of our democratic republic. Average Christians especially should be emboldened to respectfully question authority and disarm the powers and principalities set against the citizen, and against the cross. This is no time to acquiesce.

In early 2023 when QCC was advertised as forthcoming, I wondered which conspiracies would remain unfounded until publication. At the time, dissenters from government proclamations and policies were making hay on social media about all the supposedly tin-foil conspiracy theories that had been validated by subsequent events. For example, in 2020 the public had been reassured ad nauseam by mainstream sources that Critical Race Theory and Ibrahim Kendi-style “anti-racism” were not being taught in schools, but whistle blowers and citizen reporters on social media belied their assurances with thousands of videos and screenshots of classroom instruction and curriculum not only in schools, but at every level of society. At Disney, an insider leaked internal videos to independent journalist Chris Rufo of creators boasting about how they freely inserted their “not-so-secret gay agenda” into children’s entertainment at every opportunity, just as concerned parents had noticed. Schools had been caught facilitating transgender transitions without parental consent in school clubs, secret transition closets, and internal documents. The “lab leak theory” of sars-cov-2 origins had achieved mainstream plausibility, though not a consensus, in government inquiries and the “paper of record”. Mirroring the elusive and indecipherable Qanon prophecies, Jeffrey Epstein’s sex ring for mostly powerful and influential Democrats was by then public knowledge, though most of his secrets went with him to the grave in a strange death in jail. Matt Taibbi and Michael Shellenberger had published the #Twitterfiles exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus, validating suspicions of partisan deplatforming and shadow banning, which was supposedly a conspiracy theory. Two of those social media censors, participants in the conspiracy to contain the Hunter Biden “October Surprise”, publicly admitted it was wrong of them to censor news of the scandalous laptop under the pretense of it being Russian disinformation. That election year stopgap was the product of a well-substantiated conspiracy facilitated by the government-funded Aspen Institute, paired with a brazenly false public statement signed by 51 former intelligence officials at the behest of Biden chief Antony Blinken. Moreover, the alleged conspiracy between Donald Trump and Russia had emerged after extensive investigation to be a conspiracy between the Hilary Clinton campaign, the Obama administration, and government actors. Satirists at the Babylon Bee had a bit where they regularly paired their farcical headlines with real headlines announcing: “another prophecy fulfilled”. And social media influencers compiled lists of their . So what examples of foolhardy conspiracism was QCC left to address?

Conspiracy theories are legion, varying wildly in plausibility and political lean. From my notes, the list of conspiracies mentioned herein include: Q’Anon, fake moon landings, the 1980’s Satanic Panic, COVID vaccines as tracking devices, contrails or chemtrails, “Ukrainian meddling”, 9/11 trutherism, the 2020 election was rigged (and 2016?), and even an obligatory reference to flat-earthism. But our authors have in mind include most of the concerns raised are not particularly about conspiracies per se, but about acquiescence to expert opinion. masks are not effective,

For example, most believe in Watergate or that the 9/11 attacks on the Twin Towers were orchestrated by al Qaeda, or that Dietrich Bonhoeffer conspired to take down Hitler. Each of these satisfies our definition of “conspiracy,” since a relatively small group worked in secret to bring about the events in question; and each of these beliefs is rational because it is directly supported by a body of available evidence.

Chad Bogosian

QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 31). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

“What exactly is a conspiracy theory? We accept a definition given by Jared Millson: “A conspiracy theory is an explanation of some alleged fact or event in terms of the actions undertaken by a small group of individuals working in secret.”

QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 16). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

In good chapter on anger, love, and hope Bock offers an always timely exhortation to guard our hearts: “Christians should be careful that their beliefs about the world don’t interfere with their ability to love others.” He a few more examples of untoward conspiracist. “Let’s assume for the moment that some of the worst conspiracy theories are true. For example, vaccines contain tracking devices, contrails are really chemtrails, and the 2020 US presidential election was rigged. If these were true, then anger would be appropriate, right? But how angry should we get?

and.
For example, anger that springs from a belief in a conspiracy theory might prevent us from acting kindly toward government workers who enforce a vaccine mandate or a clerk at a grocery store who enforces a mask mandate.

Like many other contributors, Austin and Bock emphasize the importance of intellectual humility, an essential epistemic virtue if ever there was one. Echoing the Apostle James, Bock offers the following tip: “ask conspiracy theorists whether they think it’s possible that they’re wrong. Humble people don’t get angry very quickly because they don’t rush to judgment too quickly. They spend time examining the evidence and listening to different points of view.” Of course, intellectual humility is a requisite virtue not just for conspiracists but for university professors and government bureaucrats too. But the authors have no exhortations for those in power who at the peak of hubris led the massive censorship programs, dismissed non-conforming professors, and marginalized alternative policy prescriptions all while making many false claims and projections from which they’ve backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages. No truth to power. A message for the educated to the uneducated.

one especially regrettable example

Caricatures of Conspiracists

In their chapter, “Christianity, Conspiracy Theories, and Intellectual Character”, Nathan King and Keith Wyma offer a sympathetic explanation for conspiracism. Falling under the sway of such a theory may not be the result of the usual epistemic vices, they suggest, but rather of a weakness of will. Our pursuit of truth can be led astray by our passions. King and Wyma offer three caricatures of unwitting and weak-willed conspiracists. “Careless Carl” jumps to a conclusion and won’t consider other possible explanations; “Bold Brandi” lacks intellectual humility. She trusts experts in some domains, but not others. “Though she believes that COVID-19 is a real phenomenon, she is convinced that instead of wearing masks and getting vaccines, citizens should continue life as normal.” “When commenters ask why she is so confident in her medical opinions, she tweets back, ‘Because I did my own research.’” Third up is “Uneven Evan” who applies double standards, being skeptical toward some conspiracy theories but not others and casting a shrewd eye on left-wing news while swallowing right wing news uncritically.

In a footnote, King and Wyma clarify that they are not claiming that their “illustrations are typical of all conspiracy theorists”, though they do represent real people the authors know. Because the thrust of this book is to chasten those who question officialdom, other characters are absent. I’d like to introduce them to Vigilant Victor who, like the Bereans, examined claims on the evening news against biblical claims and the evidence in studies and papers, minded conflicting expert opinion, and carefully measured his concerns based on the relative strength of various evidence. One of the book’s biggest failures is not dealing squarely with conflicting expert opinion. King and Wyma could have introduced us to Judicious Jay, a Stanford epidemiologist who carefully distinguished between true and false claims about lockdowns and vaccines during COVID and led an effort by hundreds of thousands to recommend a different strategy to mitigate the harms of the pandemic; when for his trouble Jay was censored and treated to a “devastating takedown” directed by Francis Collins at the pinnacle of power, he met it with equanimity and strength of will. Or meet Admirable Aaron, a University of California at Irvine Director of Medical Ethics and a frontline doctor who, having already survived infection, objected to coerced vaccines for himself and fellow medical practitioners; after being censured by colleagues and fired he joined a Supreme Court lawsuit, Murthy v. Missouri, to check government censors. Or how about Distinguished Doug, a Christian scientist and fellow professor who had co-authored a prescient book raising the alarm about dubious evidence and the unintended consequences of lockdowns. Is it really true that the problem with these characters with sterling credentials who withstood enormous social, peer, and political pressure was that they were weak willed?

Not only do King and Wyma not profile dissidents who are harder to dismiss, they do not contemplate the passions of others. Billionaire Bill who stood to gain billions more from mandatory vaccinations, nor CNN Cindy whose primary source of funding is the pharmaceutical industry. Unchallenged too is Mainstream Mandy, who absorbs narratives from Wikipedia-approved news outlets and the curated first-page results of Google searches without second-guessing them, even when those claims don’t square with a biblical worldview. Generally speaking, going along to get along requires little research or strength of will.

Trusting Science and Scientists

Apart from a needless swipe at Scott Atlas, Garrett J. Deweese’s article is a fine piece. He is the one author who enjoins the reader to critically engage with experts and government narratives using the very epistemic virtues that are touted throughout the book. Deweese also pinpoints what I take to be the primary fount of conspiracism: a well-justified loss of trust in establishment news and institutions. He notes: “An authoritative ‘Be quiet and listen to the experts’ falls flat in the face of mistrust of the experts.” Deweese helpfully enumerates the reasons for a guarded skepticism toward the pronouncements of scientists.

Trusting the Bible

In “How Shall We Then Think?”, Dru Johnson turns to “biblical insights on conspiracy” to bring low his fellow Christians who question authority. Though Johnson is an expert in biblical studies with a specialty in Hebraic thought, his selection and interpretation of passages is surprising. I loved one line: “nd people who must be reasoned with, the Scriptures want us to consider the ethics of knowing.

As his first example, Johnson offers: “Jesus warns us that people will come and solicit his followers with conspiracies of his return (Luke 17:22–23). These folks will believe that they have figured it all out: ‘Look here, look there.’ … Jesus flatly instructs his disciples: do not listen to them!” In the biblical text, Jesus himself is addressing simple claims. Johnson theorizes that the problem is that people think they can know more than they do. But in the next sentence, Jesus provides the reason you will know when Jesus returns, because it will be unmistakable to each and every one of us. “For the Son of Man in his day will be like the lightning, which flashes and lights up the sky from one end to the other.” Luke 17:24

Next Johnson turns to another quote that he loosely applies to conspiracies: “’You will hear of wars and rumors of wars,’ but again, his counsel is revealing: ‘See to it that no one leads you astray,’ for ‘many will come in my name … and they will lead many astray’ (Matt. 24:4–5 NRSV). Notice that, for Jesus, the conspiracies themselves lead people away from true understanding.” Johnson is using the term conspiracy loosely here. Again, Jesus is putting the onus of intellectual responsibility on each one of us.

Austin, Michael W.; Bock, Gregory L.. QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 182). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

Why Do People Question Authority and Fall for Conspiracy Theories?

This book is at its worse when it imputes motives to those who entertain unpopular thought and conspiracies. Johnson supposes that “The deep satisfaction and sense of empowerment fostered by seeing through a conspiracy is, quite simply, intoxicating. It’s not difficult to understand the emotional power of believing that we’ve cracked a secret society. After all, who wants to be just another one of the sheeple? People who feel like they are losing social or political power can find themselves leaning into conspiracy mind-sets to regain a sense of control. Dementia and the loss of memory commonly fires up imagined conspiracies. In her final years of life, my mother was convinced on several conspiracies to steal her medicine or food.”

Additionally, Johnson notes that postmodernism is . Of course, postmodernism and its children is an epistemic theory advanced by academics and experts. “Conspiracy thinking injects itself into our venal lusts at this exact point. Who will guide me? The conspiracist answers: “I will! I, the one who knows, will peel back the corner of the tarp of history and reveal to you all its secret inner workings. You will have a view from nowhere. No longer will

Austin, Michael W.; Bock, Gregory L.. QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 181). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

We know the Obama administration invested heavily in breaking the evangelical resistance to the Democrat platform, employing Michael Wear to lead the effort. We also know that a group of influential evangelical who named themselves “The Outliers”, Francis Collins, David Brooks, David French, Russel Moore, Tim Keller

In the fall of 2015, [Russell] Moore met with “The Outliers”, a group of friends and fellow high-profile believers: Tim Keller, the founding pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City; Pete Wehner, the former head of strategic initiatives in the George W. Bush White House; Francis Collins, the director of the National Institutes of Health; and David Brooks, the New York Times columnist.

Tim Alberta, quoted at The Resistance Will Be Organized

The book’s most consistent refrain is that in defending conspiring theories and counter narratives, these average Christians lack intellectual humility.

Not a CIA invention.

The White, Christian, Male, Heteronormative Conspiracists

Even with its consistent defense of reasonable faith and a passing critique of postmodernism, knowing the tilt and intellectual milieu of this book, it’s no surprise that critical theory makes an appearance to scapegoat the favorite bogeyman of the political left: the white, Christian, male, heterosexual. Susan Peppers-Bates recounts an important aspect of Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan. The hero of Jesus’ story was a person generally reviled by his Jewish audience. In addition to learning “who is our neighbor”, the parable challenges us to self-examine and ask, “Who do I regard with prejudice as a Samaritan?” Like Kimberlé Crenshaw and other critical theorists, Peppers-Bates takes it that Americans and evangelicals more specifically are guilty of viewing “voices of women, people of color, LGBTQI, and other marginalized groups” like the pharisees viewed the Samaritans. It’s evident that for the authors of this book, it is conspiracy theorists and Trump supporters occupy the reviled place of the Samaritan, but that thought is not entertained.

Peppers-Bates expertly employs the relentless criticism of the critical theoretical mode on her subjects, seeing misogynist and white supremacist motives and undertones even where more charitable explanations are available. Christians haven’t insisted upon the role of God as father and the incarnation of Christ as a man because of fidelity to God’s self-disclosure, but rather because “God’s masculinity has become and idol”. European artists did not portray Jesus as looking like themselves, like artists from other cultures, because their models were white and the exact pigment of Jesus’ skin was and is unknown, but rather as the “logical conclusion of four centuries of conquest, enslavement, and theft of native lands”. True to form, Peppers-Bates traces past sins to the current political moment, equating churches who segregated along racial lines in the past with Christians today who exclude LGBTQI from church leadership based on the biblical prohibitions of sexual immorality.

How does Peppers-Bates connect the universal acid of critical theory to conspiracism? Following the example of Peter Weh

As evangelicals, we’re still trying to assess and find our footing after the cultural upheaval, COVID lockdowns, widespread political violence, and contested elections that took place starting with the polarizing election of Donald Trump in 2016. In one 2023 response, editors Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock recruited a couple dozen evangelical academics to exhort people in the pews to steer clear of conspiracy theories and dissenting opinions. Some of them are old friends and professors from my own graduate education. We enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many a challenging philosophy course at Biola University. I feel an affection and appreciation toward them. Nevertheless, apart from a lot of unobjectionable and commendable epistemological advice, Qanon, Chaos, and the Cross (QCC) mostly manages to learn and teach exactly the wrong lesson from these tumultuous years. Captive to a technocratic, institutional, and partisan mindset, the book discourages average Christians from “doing their own research” and questioning government sanctioned experts. As one who witnessed these events and unadvisedly did just that, I aver: this recent history cries out not for less but more critically engaged citizens who will publicly question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with the spirit of our democratic republic. Average Christians especially should be emboldened to respectfully question authority and disarm the powers and principalities set against the citizen, and against the cross. This is no time to acquiesce.

In early 2023 when QCC was advertised as forthcoming, I wondered which conspiracies would remain unfounded until publication. At the time, dissenters from government proclamations and policies were making hay on social media about all the supposedly tin-foil conspiracy theories that had been validated by subsequent events. For example, in 2020 the public had been reassured ad nauseam by mainstream sources that Critical Race Theory and Ibrahim Kendi-style “anti-racism” were not being taught in schools, but whistle blowers and citizen reporters on social media belied their assurances with thousands of videos and screenshots of classroom instruction and curriculum not only in schools, but at every level of society. At Disney, an insider leaked internal videos to independent journalist Chris Rufo of creators boasting about how they freely inserted their “not-so-secret gay agenda” into children’s entertainment at every opportunity, just as concerned parents had noticed. Schools had been caught facilitating transgender transitions without parental consent in school clubs, secret transition closets, and internal documents. The “lab leak theory” of sars-cov-2 origins had achieved mainstream plausibility, though not a consensus, in government inquiries and the “paper of record”. Mirroring the elusive and indecipherable Qanon prophecies, Jeffrey Epstein’s sex ring for mostly powerful and influential Democrats was by then public knowledge, though most of his secrets went with him to the grave in a strange death in jail. Matt Taibbi and Michael Shellenberger had published the #Twitterfiles exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus, validating suspicions of partisan deplatforming and shadow banning, which was supposedly a conspiracy theory. Two of those social media censors, participants in the conspiracy to contain the Hunter Biden “October Surprise”, publicly admitted it was wrong of them to censor news of the scandalous laptop under the pretense of it being Russian disinformation. That election year stopgap was the product of a well-substantiated conspiracy facilitated by the government-funded Aspen Institute, paired with a brazenly false public statement signed by 51 former intelligence officials at the behest of Biden chief Antony Blinken. Moreover, the alleged conspiracy between Donald Trump and Russia had emerged after extensive investigation to be a conspiracy between the Hilary Clinton campaign, the Obama administration, and government actors. Satirists at the Babylon Bee had a bit where they regularly paired their farcical headlines with real headlines announcing: “another prophecy fulfilled”. And social media influencers compiled lists of their . So what examples of foolhardy conspiracism was QCC left to address?

Conspiracy theories are legion, varying wildly in plausibility and political lean. From my notes, the list of conspiracies mentioned herein include: Q’Anon, fake moon landings, the 1980’s Satanic Panic, COVID vaccines as tracking devices, contrails or chemtrails, “Ukrainian meddling”, 9/11 trutherism, the 2020 election was rigged (and 2016?), and even an obligatory reference to flat-earthism. But our authors have in mind include most of the concerns raised are not particularly about conspiracies per se, but about acquiescence to expert opinion. masks are not effective,

For example, most believe in Watergate or that the 9/11 attacks on the Twin Towers were orchestrated by al Qaeda, or that Dietrich Bonhoeffer conspired to take down Hitler. Each of these satisfies our definition of “conspiracy,” since a relatively small group worked in secret to bring about the events in question; and each of these beliefs is rational because it is directly supported by a body of available evidence.

Chad Bogosian

QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 31). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

“What exactly is a conspiracy theory? We accept a definition given by Jared Millson: “A conspiracy theory is an explanation of some alleged fact or event in terms of the actions undertaken by a small group of individuals working in secret.”

QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 16). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

In good chapter on anger, love, and hope Bock offers an always timely exhortation to guard our hearts: “Christians should be careful that their beliefs about the world don’t interfere with their ability to love others.” He a few more examples of untoward conspiracist. “Let’s assume for the moment that some of the worst conspiracy theories are true. For example, vaccines contain tracking devices, contrails are really chemtrails, and the 2020 US presidential election was rigged. If these were true, then anger would be appropriate, right? But how angry should we get?

and.
For example, anger that springs from a belief in a conspiracy theory might prevent us from acting kindly toward government workers who enforce a vaccine mandate or a clerk at a grocery store who enforces a mask mandate.

Like many other contributors, Austin and Bock emphasize the importance of intellectual humility, an essential epistemic virtue if ever there was one. Echoing the Apostle James, Bock offers the following tip: “ask conspiracy theorists whether they think it’s possible that they’re wrong. Humble people don’t get angry very quickly because they don’t rush to judgment too quickly. They spend time examining the evidence and listening to different points of view.” Of course, intellectual humility is a requisite virtue not just for conspiracists but for university professors and government bureaucrats too. But the authors have no exhortations for those in power who at the peak of hubris led the massive censorship programs, dismissed non-conforming professors, and marginalized alternative policy prescriptions all while making many false claims and projections from which they’ve backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages. No truth to power. A message for the educated to the uneducated.

one especially regrettable example

Caricatures of Conspiracists

In their chapter, “Christianity, Conspiracy Theories, and Intellectual Character”, Nathan King and Keith Wyma offer a sympathetic explanation for conspiracism. Falling under the sway of such a theory may not be the result of the usual epistemic vices, they suggest, but rather of a weakness of will. Our pursuit of truth can be led astray by our passions. King and Wyma offer three caricatures of unwitting and weak-willed conspiracists. “Careless Carl” jumps to a conclusion and won’t consider other possible explanations; “Bold Brandi” lacks intellectual humility. She trusts experts in some domains, but not others. “Though she believes that COVID-19 is a real phenomenon, she is convinced that instead of wearing masks and getting vaccines, citizens should continue life as normal.” “When commenters ask why she is so confident in her medical opinions, she tweets back, ‘Because I did my own research.’” Third up is “Uneven Evan” who applies double standards, being skeptical toward some conspiracy theories but not others and casting a shrewd eye on left-wing news while swallowing right wing news uncritically.

In a footnote, King and Wyma clarify that they are not claiming that their “illustrations are typical of all conspiracy theorists”, though they do represent real people the authors know. Because the thrust of this book is to chasten those who question officialdom, other characters are absent. I’d like to introduce them to Vigilant Victor who, like the Bereans, examined claims on the evening news against biblical claims and the evidence in studies and papers, minded conflicting expert opinion, and carefully measured his concerns based on the relative strength of various evidence. One of the book’s biggest failures is not dealing squarely with conflicting expert opinion. King and Wyma could have introduced us to Judicious Jay, a Stanford epidemiologist who carefully distinguished between true and false claims about lockdowns and vaccines during COVID and led an effort by hundreds of thousands to recommend a different strategy to mitigate the harms of the pandemic; when for his trouble Jay was censored and treated to a “devastating takedown” directed by Francis Collins at the pinnacle of power, he met it with equanimity and strength of will. Or meet Admirable Aaron, a University of California at Irvine Director of Medical Ethics and a frontline doctor who, having already survived infection, objected to coerced vaccines for himself and fellow medical practitioners; after being censured by colleagues and fired he joined a Supreme Court lawsuit, Murthy v. Missouri, to check government censors. Or how about Distinguished Doug, a Christian scientist and fellow professor who had co-authored a prescient book raising the alarm about dubious evidence and the unintended consequences of lockdowns. Is it really true that the problem with these characters with sterling credentials who withstood enormous social, peer, and political pressure was that they were weak willed?

Not only do King and Wyma not profile dissidents who are harder to dismiss, they do not contemplate the passions of others. Billionaire Bill who stood to gain billions more from mandatory vaccinations, nor CNN Cindy whose primary source of funding is the pharmaceutical industry. Unchallenged too is Mainstream Mandy, who absorbs narratives from Wikipedia-approved news outlets and the curated first-page results of Google searches without second-guessing them, even when those claims don’t square with a biblical worldview. Generally speaking, going along to get along requires little research or strength of will.

Trusting Science and Scientists

Apart from a needless swipe at Scott Atlas, Garrett J. Deweese’s article is a fine piece. He is the one author who enjoins the reader to critically engage with experts and government narratives using the very epistemic virtues that are touted throughout the book. Deweese also pinpoints what I take to be the primary fount of conspiracism: a well-justified loss of trust in establishment news and institutions. He notes: “An authoritative ‘Be quiet and listen to the experts’ falls flat in the face of mistrust of the experts.” Deweese helpfully enumerates the reasons for a guarded skepticism toward the pronouncements of scientists.

Trusting the Bible

In “How Shall We Then Think?”, Dru Johnson turns to “biblical insights on conspiracy” to bring low his fellow Christians who question authority. Though Johnson is an expert in biblical studies with a specialty in Hebraic thought, his selection and interpretation of passages is surprising. I loved one line: “nd people who must be reasoned with, the Scriptures want us to consider the ethics of knowing.

As his first example, Johnson offers: “Jesus warns us that people will come and solicit his followers with conspiracies of his return (Luke 17:22–23). These folks will believe that they have figured it all out: ‘Look here, look there.’ … Jesus flatly instructs his disciples: do not listen to them!” In the biblical text, Jesus himself is addressing simple claims. Johnson theorizes that the problem is that people think they can know more than they do. But in the next sentence, Jesus provides the reason you will know when Jesus returns, because it will be unmistakable to each and every one of us. “For the Son of Man in his day will be like the lightning, which flashes and lights up the sky from one end to the other.” Luke 17:24

Next Johnson turns to another quote that he loosely applies to conspiracies: “’You will hear of wars and rumors of wars,’ but again, his counsel is revealing: ‘See to it that no one leads you astray,’ for ‘many will come in my name … and they will lead many astray’ (Matt. 24:4–5 NRSV). Notice that, for Jesus, the conspiracies themselves lead people away from true understanding.” Johnson is using the term conspiracy loosely here. Again, Jesus is putting the onus of intellectual responsibility on each one of us.

Austin, Michael W.; Bock, Gregory L.. QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 182). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

Why Do People Question Authority and Fall for Conspiracy Theories?

This book is at its worse when it imputes motives to those who entertain unpopular thought and conspiracies. Johnson supposes that “The deep satisfaction and sense of empowerment fostered by seeing through a conspiracy is, quite simply, intoxicating. It’s not difficult to understand the emotional power of believing that we’ve cracked a secret society. After all, who wants to be just another one of the sheeple? People who feel like they are losing social or political power can find themselves leaning into conspiracy mind-sets to regain a sense of control. Dementia and the loss of memory commonly fires up imagined conspiracies. In her final years of life, my mother was convinced on several conspiracies to steal her medicine or food.”

Additionally, Johnson notes that postmodernism is . Of course, postmodernism and its children is an epistemic theory advanced by academics and experts. “Conspiracy thinking injects itself into our venal lusts at this exact point. Who will guide me? The conspiracist answers: “I will! I, the one who knows, will peel back the corner of the tarp of history and reveal to you all its secret inner workings. You will have a view from nowhere. No longer will

Austin, Michael W.; Bock, Gregory L.. QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 181). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

We know the Obama administration invested heavily in breaking the evangelical resistance to the Democrat platform, employing Michael Wear to lead the effort. We also know that a group of influential evangelical who named themselves “The Outliers”, Francis Collins, David Brooks, David French, Russel Moore, Tim Keller

In the fall of 2015, [Russell] Moore met with “The Outliers”, a group of friends and fellow high-profile believers: Tim Keller, the founding pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City; Pete Wehner, the former head of strategic initiatives in the George W. Bush White House; Francis Collins, the director of the National Institutes of Health; and David Brooks, the New York Times columnist.

Tim Alberta, quoted at The Resistance Will Be Organized

The book’s most consistent refrain is that in defending conspiring theories and counter narratives, these average Christians lack intellectual humility.

Not a CIA invention.

The White, Christian, Male, Heteronormative Conspiracists

Even with its consistent defense of reasonable faith and a passing critique of postmodernism, knowing the tilt and intellectual milieu of this book, it’s no surprise that critical theory makes an appearance to scapegoat the favorite bogeyman of the political left: the white, Christian, male, heterosexual. Susan Peppers-Bates recounts an important aspect of Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan. The hero of Jesus’ story was a person generally reviled by his Jewish audience. In addition to learning “who is our neighbor”, the parable challenges us to self-examine and ask, “Who do I regard with prejudice as a Samaritan?” Like Kimberlé Crenshaw and other critical theorists, Peppers-Bates takes it that American evangelicals are prone to conspiracism because they are guilty of viewing “voices of women, people of color, LGBTQI, and other marginalized groups” like the pharisees viewed the Samaritans. It’s evident that for the authors of this book, it is conspiracy theorists and Trump supporters occupy the reviled place of the Samaritan, but that thought is not entertained.

As evangelicals, we’re still trying to assess and find our footing after the cultural upheaval, COVID lockdowns, widespread political violence, and contested elections that took place starting with the polarizing election of Donald Trump in 2016. In one 2023 response, editors Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock recruited a couple dozen evangelical academics to exhort people in the pews to steer clear of conspiracy theories and dissenting opinions. Some of them are old friends and professors from my own graduate education. We enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many a challenging philosophy course at Biola University. I feel an affection and appreciation toward them. Nevertheless, apart from a lot of unobjectionable and commendable epistemological advice, Qanon, Chaos, and the Cross (QCC) mostly manages to learn and teach exactly the wrong lesson from these tumultuous years. Captive to a technocratic, institutional, and partisan mindset, the book discourages average Christians from “doing their own research” and questioning government sanctioned experts. As one who witnessed these events and unadvisedly did just that, I aver: this recent history cries out not for less but more critically engaged citizens who will publicly question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with the spirit of our democratic republic. Average Christians especially should be emboldened to respectfully question authority and disarm the powers and principalities set against the citizen, and against the cross. This is no time to acquiesce.

In early 2023 when QCC was advertised as forthcoming, I wondered which conspiracies would remain unfounded until publication. At the time, dissenters from government proclamations and policies were making hay on social media about all the supposedly tin-foil conspiracy theories that had been validated by subsequent events. For example, in 2020 the public had been reassured ad nauseam by mainstream sources that Critical Race Theory and Ibrahim Kendi-style “anti-racism” were not being taught in schools, but whistle blowers and citizen reporters on social media belied their assurances with thousands of videos and screenshots of classroom instruction and curriculum not only in schools, but at every level of society. At Disney, an insider leaked internal videos to independent journalist Chris Rufo of creators boasting about how they freely inserted their “not-so-secret gay agenda” into children’s entertainment at every opportunity, just as concerned parents had noticed. Schools had been caught facilitating transgender transitions without parental consent in school clubs, secret transition closets, and internal documents. The “lab leak theory” of sars-cov-2 origins had achieved mainstream plausibility, though not a consensus, in government inquiries and the “paper of record”. Mirroring the elusive and indecipherable Qanon prophecies, Jeffrey Epstein’s sex ring for mostly powerful and influential Democrats was by then public knowledge, though most of his secrets went with him to the grave in a strange death in jail. Matt Taibbi and Michael Shellenberger had published the #Twitterfiles exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus, validating suspicions of partisan deplatforming and shadow banning, which was supposedly a conspiracy theory. Two of those social media censors, participants in the conspiracy to contain the Hunter Biden “October Surprise”, publicly admitted it was wrong of them to censor news of the scandalous laptop under the pretense of it being Russian disinformation. That election year stopgap was the product of a well-substantiated conspiracy facilitated by the government-funded Aspen Institute, paired with a brazenly false public statement signed by 51 former intelligence officials at the behest of Biden chief Antony Blinken. Moreover, the alleged conspiracy between Donald Trump and Russia had emerged after extensive investigation to be a conspiracy between the Hilary Clinton campaign, the Obama administration, and government actors. Satirists at the Babylon Bee had a bit where they regularly paired their farcical headlines with real headlines announcing: “another prophecy fulfilled”. And social media influencers compiled lists of their . So what examples of foolhardy conspiracism was QCC left to address?

Conspiracy theories are legion, varying wildly in plausibility and political lean. From my notes, the list of conspiracies mentioned herein include: Q’Anon, fake moon landings, the 1980’s Satanic Panic, COVID vaccines as tracking devices, contrails or chemtrails, “Ukrainian meddling”, 9/11 trutherism, the 2020 election was rigged (and 2016?), and even an obligatory reference to flat-earthism. But our authors have in mind include most of the concerns raised are not particularly about conspiracies per se, but about acquiescence to expert opinion. masks are not effective,

For example, most believe in Watergate or that the 9/11 attacks on the Twin Towers were orchestrated by al Qaeda, or that Dietrich Bonhoeffer conspired to take down Hitler. Each of these satisfies our definition of “conspiracy,” since a relatively small group worked in secret to bring about the events in question; and each of these beliefs is rational because it is directly supported by a body of available evidence.

Chad Bogosian

QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 31). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

“What exactly is a conspiracy theory? We accept a definition given by Jared Millson: “A conspiracy theory is an explanation of some alleged fact or event in terms of the actions undertaken by a small group of individuals working in secret.”

QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 16). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

In good chapter on anger, love, and hope Bock offers an always timely exhortation to guard our hearts: “Christians should be careful that their beliefs about the world don’t interfere with their ability to love others.” He a few more examples of untoward conspiracist. “Let’s assume for the moment that some of the worst conspiracy theories are true. For example, vaccines contain tracking devices, contrails are really chemtrails, and the 2020 US presidential election was rigged. If these were true, then anger would be appropriate, right? But how angry should we get?

and.
For example, anger that springs from a belief in a conspiracy theory might prevent us from acting kindly toward government workers who enforce a vaccine mandate or a clerk at a grocery store who enforces a mask mandate.

Like many other contributors, Austin and Bock emphasize the importance of intellectual humility, an essential epistemic virtue if ever there was one. Echoing the Apostle James, Bock offers the following tip: “ask conspiracy theorists whether they think it’s possible that they’re wrong. Humble people don’t get angry very quickly because they don’t rush to judgment too quickly. They spend time examining the evidence and listening to different points of view.” Of course, intellectual humility is a requisite virtue not just for conspiracists but for university professors and government bureaucrats too. But the authors have no exhortations for those in power who at the peak of hubris led the massive censorship programs, dismissed non-conforming professors, and marginalized alternative policy prescriptions all while making many false claims and projections from which they’ve backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages. No truth to power. A message for the educated to the uneducated.

one especially regrettable example

Caricatures of Conspiracists

In their chapter, “Christianity, Conspiracy Theories, and Intellectual Character”, Nathan King and Keith Wyma offer a sympathetic explanation for conspiracism. Falling under the sway of such a theory may not be the result of the usual epistemic vices, they suggest, but rather of a weakness of will. Our pursuit of truth can be led astray by our passions. King and Wyma offer three caricatures of unwitting and weak-willed conspiracists. “Careless Carl” jumps to a conclusion and won’t consider other possible explanations; “Bold Brandi” lacks intellectual humility. She trusts experts in some domains, but not others. “Though she believes that COVID-19 is a real phenomenon, she is convinced that instead of wearing masks and getting vaccines, citizens should continue life as normal.” “When commenters ask why she is so confident in her medical opinions, she tweets back, ‘Because I did my own research.’” Third up is “Uneven Evan” who applies double standards, being skeptical toward some conspiracy theories but not others and casting a shrewd eye on left-wing news while swallowing right wing news uncritically.

In a footnote, King and Wyma clarify that they are not claiming that their “illustrations are typical of all conspiracy theorists”, though they do represent real people the authors know. Because the thrust of this book is to chasten those who question officialdom, other characters are absent. I’d like to introduce them to Vigilant Victor who, like the Bereans, examined claims on the evening news against biblical claims and the evidence in studies and papers, minded conflicting expert opinion, and carefully measured his concerns based on the relative strength of various evidence. One of the book’s biggest failures is not dealing squarely with conflicting expert opinion. King and Wyma could have introduced us to Judicious Jay, a Stanford epidemiologist who carefully distinguished between true and false claims about lockdowns and vaccines during COVID and led an effort by hundreds of thousands to recommend a different strategy to mitigate the harms of the pandemic; when for his trouble Jay was censored and treated to a “devastating takedown” directed by Francis Collins at the pinnacle of power, he met it with equanimity and strength of will. Or meet Admirable Aaron, a University of California at Irvine Director of Medical Ethics and a frontline doctor who, having already survived infection, objected to coerced vaccines for himself and fellow medical practitioners; after being censured by colleagues and fired he joined a Supreme Court lawsuit, Murthy v. Missouri, to check government censors. Or how about Distinguished Doug, a Christian scientist and fellow professor who had co-authored a prescient book raising the alarm about dubious evidence and the unintended consequences of lockdowns. Is it really true that the problem with these characters with sterling credentials who withstood enormous social, peer, and political pressure was that they were weak willed?

Not only do King and Wyma not profile dissidents who are harder to dismiss, they do not contemplate the passions of others. Billionaire Bill who stood to gain billions more from mandatory vaccinations, nor CNN Cindy whose primary source of funding is the pharmaceutical industry. Unchallenged too is Mainstream Mandy, who absorbs narratives from Wikipedia-approved news outlets and the curated first-page results of Google searches without second-guessing them, even when those claims don’t square with a biblical worldview. Generally speaking, going along to get along requires little research or strength of will.

Trusting Science and Scientists

Apart from a needless swipe at Scott Atlas, Garrett J. Deweese’s article is a fine piece. He is the one author who enjoins the reader to critically engage with experts and government narratives using the very epistemic virtues that are touted throughout the book. Deweese also pinpoints what I take to be the primary fount of conspiracism: a well-justified loss of trust in establishment news and institutions. He notes: “An authoritative ‘Be quiet and listen to the experts’ falls flat in the face of mistrust of the experts.” Deweese helpfully enumerates the reasons for a guarded skepticism toward the pronouncements of scientists.

Trusting the Bible

In “How Shall We Then Think?”, Dru Johnson turns to “biblical insights on conspiracy” to bring low his fellow Christians who question authority. Though Johnson is an expert in biblical studies with a specialty in Hebraic thought, his selection and interpretation of passages is surprising. I loved one line: “nd people who must be reasoned with, the Scriptures want us to consider the ethics of knowing.

As his first example, Johnson offers: “Jesus warns us that people will come and solicit his followers with conspiracies of his return (Luke 17:22–23). These folks will believe that they have figured it all out: ‘Look here, look there.’ … Jesus flatly instructs his disciples: do not listen to them!” In the biblical text, Jesus himself is addressing simple claims. Johnson theorizes that the problem is that people think they can know more than they do. But in the next sentence, Jesus provides the reason you will know when Jesus returns, because it will be unmistakable to each and every one of us. “For the Son of Man in his day will be like the lightning, which flashes and lights up the sky from one end to the other.” Luke 17:24

Next Johnson turns to another quote that he loosely applies to conspiracies: “’You will hear of wars and rumors of wars,’ but again, his counsel is revealing: ‘See to it that no one leads you astray,’ for ‘many will come in my name … and they will lead many astray’ (Matt. 24:4–5 NRSV). Notice that, for Jesus, the conspiracies themselves lead people away from true understanding.” Johnson is using the term conspiracy loosely here. Again, Jesus is putting the onus of intellectual responsibility on each one of us.

Austin, Michael W.; Bock, Gregory L.. QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 182). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

Why Do People Question Authority and Fall for Conspiracy Theories?

This book is at its worse when it imputes motives to those who entertain unpopular thought and conspiracies. Johnson supposes that “The deep satisfaction and sense of empowerment fostered by seeing through a conspiracy is, quite simply, intoxicating. It’s not difficult to understand the emotional power of believing that we’ve cracked a secret society. After all, who wants to be just another one of the sheeple? People who feel like they are losing social or political power can find themselves leaning into conspiracy mind-sets to regain a sense of control. Dementia and the loss of memory commonly fires up imagined conspiracies. In her final years of life, my mother was convinced on several conspiracies to steal her medicine or food.”

Additionally, Johnson notes that postmodernism is . Of course, postmodernism and its children is an epistemic theory advanced by academics and experts. “Conspiracy thinking injects itself into our venal lusts at this exact point. Who will guide me? The conspiracist answers: “I will! I, the one who knows, will peel back the corner of the tarp of history and reveal to you all its secret inner workings. You will have a view from nowhere. No longer will

Austin, Michael W.; Bock, Gregory L.. QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 181). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

We know the Obama administration invested heavily in breaking the evangelical resistance to the Democrat platform, employing Michael Wear to lead the effort. We also know that a group of influential evangelical who named themselves “The Outliers”, Francis Collins, David Brooks, David French, Russel Moore, Tim Keller

In the fall of 2015, [Russell] Moore met with “The Outliers”, a group of friends and fellow high-profile believers: Tim Keller, the founding pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City; Pete Wehner, the former head of strategic initiatives in the George W. Bush White House; Francis Collins, the director of the National Institutes of Health; and David Brooks, the New York Times columnist.

Tim Alberta, quoted at The Resistance Will Be Organized

The book’s most consistent refrain is that in defending conspiring theories and counter narratives, these average Christians lack intellectual humility.

Not a CIA invention.