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 question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with the spirit of our democratic republic. The book’s most consistent refrain is that in defending conspiring theories and counter narratives, these average Christians lack intellectual humility. 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 dissident 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 published the #Twitterfiles exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus, validating suspicions of partisan deplatforming and shadow banning. 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 the scandalous laptop under the pretense of it being Russian disinformation. That 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 conspiring with Antony Blinken. Moreover, the alleged conspiracy between Donald Trump had Russia emerged as 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”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Conspiracy theories are legion, varying wildly in plausibility and political lean. From my note taking, the list of conspiracies mentioned include: Q’Anon, fake moon landings, the Satanic Panic, COVID vaccines as tracking devices, contrails or chemtrails, “Ukrainian meddling”, 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, 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.

Both 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

Weakness of Will and Sample Size

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 but rather of a weakness of will. Our pursuit of truth can be lead astray by our passions. King and Wyma offer three caricatures of unwitting 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.’” Thirdly, “Uneven Evan” applies double standards, casting a shrewd eye on left-wing news but swallowing right wing news uncritically.

In a footnote they clarify that they are not claiming that their “illustrations are typical of all conspiracy theorists”, though they do represent real people the authors know. Judicious Jay, a Stanford epidemiologist who carefully distinguished between true and false claims during COVID and led an effort by hundreds of thousands to recommend a different policy to mitigate the harms of the COVID pandemic. Admirable Aaron, a University of California at Irvine Director of Medical Ethics and a frontline doctor who objected to coerced vaccines for himself and fellow medical practitioners, for which he was fired. Vigilant Victor, who went beyond the evening news to scour through studies and papers, minded conflicting expert opinion, and carefully measured his concerns based on the relative strength of various evidence. Distinguished Doug, a Christian scientist and fellow professor who had co-authored a prescient book raising the alarm about the unintended consequences of lockdowns. And while King and Wyma do not profile epistemologically respectable dissidents, nor do they contemplate the passions of Billionaire Bill who stood to gain billions more from mandatory vaccinations, nor of mainstream news sources whose primary source of funding is pharmaceutical . Unchastened 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.

Garrett J. Deweese’s article is, in my opinion the finest piece in the lot. 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 too take to be the be the primary fount of conspiracism: a well-justified loss of trust

“An authoritative “Be quiet and listen to the experts” falls flat in the face of mistrust of the experts.” QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 55). 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

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) somehow 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 question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with the spirit of our democratic republic. The book’s most consistent refrain is that in defending conspiring theories and counter narratives, these average Christians lack intellectual humility. 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 dissident 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 published the #Twitterfiles exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus, validating suspicions of partisan deplatforming and shadow banning. 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 the scandalous laptop under the pretense of it being Russian disinformation. That 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 conspiring with Antony Blinken. Moreover, the alleged conspiracy between Donald Trump had Russia emerged as 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”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Conspiracy theories are legion, varying wildly in plausibility and political lean. From my note taking, the list of conspiracies mentioned include: Q’Anon, fake moon landings, the Satanic Panic, COVID vaccines as tracking devices, contrails or chemtrails, “Ukrainian meddling”, 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, 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.

Both 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

Weakness of Will and Sample Size

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 but rather of a weakness of will. Our pursuit of truth can be lead astray by our passions. King and Wyma offer three caricatures of unwitting 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.’” Thirdly, “Uneven Evan” applies double standards, casting a shrewd eye on left-wing news but swallowing right wing news uncritically.

In a footnote they clarify that they are not claiming that their “illustrations are typical of all conspiracy theorists”, though they do represent real people the authors know. Judicious Jay, a Stanford epidemiologist who carefully distinguished between true and false claims during COVID and led an effort by hundreds of thousands to recommend a different policy to mitigate the harms of the COVID pandemic. Admirable Aaron, a University of California at Irvine Director of Medical Ethics and a frontline doctor who objected to coerced vaccines for himself and fellow medical practitioners, for which he was fired. Vigilant Victor, who went beyond the evening news to scour through studies and papers, minded conflicting expert opinion, and carefully measured his concerns based on the relative strength of various evidence. Distinguished Doug, a Christian scientist and fellow professor who had co-authored a prescient book raising the alarm about the unintended consequences of lockdowns. And while King and Wyma do not profile epistemologically respectable dissidents, nor do they contemplate the passions of Billionaire Bill who stood to gain billions more from mandatory vaccinations, nor of mainstream news sources whose primary source of funding is pharmaceutical . Unchastened 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.

Garrett J. Deweese’s article is, in my opinion the finest piece in the lot. 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 too take to be the be the primary fount of conspiracism: a well-justified loss of trust

“An authoritative “Be quiet and listen to the experts” falls flat in the face of mistrust of the experts.” QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 55). 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

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 with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy courses 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) somehow 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 question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with the spirit of our democratic republic. The book’s most consistent refrain is that in defending conspiring theories and counter narratives, these average Christians lack intellectual humility. 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 dissident 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 published the #Twitterfiles exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus, validating suspicions of partisan deplatforming and shadow banning. 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 the scandalous laptop under the pretense of it being Russian disinformation. That 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 conspiring with Antony Blinken. Moreover, the alleged conspiracy between Donald Trump had Russia emerged as 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”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Conspiracy theories are legion, varying wildly in plausibility and political lean. From my note taking, the list of conspiracies mentioned include: Q’Anon, fake moon landings, the Satanic Panic, COVID vaccines as tracking devices, contrails or chemtrails, “Ukrainian meddling”, 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, 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.

Both 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

Weakness of Will and Sample Size

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 but rather of a weakness of will. Our pursuit of truth can be lead astray by our passions. King and Wyma offer three caricatures of unwitting 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.’” Thirdly, “Uneven Evan” applies double standards, casting a shrewd eye on left-wing news but swallowing right wing news uncritically.

In a footnote they clarify that they are not claiming that their “illustrations are typical of all conspiracy theorists”, though they do represent real people the authors know. Judicious Jay, a Stanford epidemiologist who carefully distinguished between true and false claims during COVID and led an effort by hundreds of thousands to recommend a different policy to mitigate the harms of the COVID pandemic. Admirable Aaron, a University of California at Irvine Director of Medical Ethics and a frontline doctor who objected to coerced vaccines for himself and fellow medical practitioners, for which he was fired. Vigilant Victor, who went beyond the evening news to scour through studies and papers, minded conflicting expert opinion, and carefully measured his concerns based on the relative strength of various evidence. Distinguished Doug, a Christian scientist and fellow professor who had co-authored a prescient book raising the alarm about the unintended consequences of lockdowns. And while King and Wyma do not profile epistemologically respectable dissidents, nor do they contemplate the passions of Billionaire Bill who stood to gain billions more from mandatory vaccinations, nor of mainstream news sources whose primary source of funding is pharmaceutical . Unchastened 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.

Garrett J. Deweese’s article is, in my opinion the finest piece in the lot. 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 too take to be the be the primary fount of conspiracism: a well-justified loss of trust

“An authoritative “Be quiet and listen to the experts” falls flat in the face of mistrust of the experts.” QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories (p. 55). 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

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 with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy courses 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) somehow 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 question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with the spirit of our democratic republic. The book’s most consistent refrain is that in defending conspiring theories and counter narratives, these average Christians lack intellectual humility. 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 dissident 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 published the #Twitterfiles exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus, validating suspicions of partisan deplatforming and shadow banning. 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 the scandalous laptop under the pretense of it being Russian disinformation. That 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 conspiring with Antony Blinken. Moreover, the alleged conspiracy between Donald Trump had Russia emerged as 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”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Conspiracy theories are legion, varying wildly in plausibility. Some are left-coded, others right-coded. From my note taking, the list of conspiracies mentioned include: Q’Anon, fake moon landings, the Satanic Panic, COVID vaccines as tracking devices, contrails or chemtrails, “Ukrainian meddling”, the 2020 election was rigged (and 2016?), But our authors have in mind include most of the concerns raised are not particularly about conspiracies, 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.

Both 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

Weakness of Will and Sample Size

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 but rather of a weakness of will. Our pursuit of truth can be lead astray by our passions. King and Wyma offer three caricatures of unwitting 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.’” Thirdly, “Uneven Evan” applies double standards, casting a shrewd eye on left-wing news but swallowing right wing news uncritically.

In a footnote they clarify that they are not claiming that their “illustrations are typical of all conspiracy theorists”, though they do represent real people the authors know. Judicious Jay, a Stanford epidemiologist who carefully distinguished between true and false claims during COVID and led an effort by hundreds of thousands to recommend a different policy to mitigate the harms of the COVID pandemic. Admirable Aaron, a University of California at Irvine Director of Medical Ethics and a frontline doctor who objected to coerced vaccines for himself and fellow medical practitioners, for which he was fired. Vigilant Victor, who went beyond the evening news to scour through studies and papers, minded conflicting expert opinion, and carefully measured his concerns based on the relative strength of various evidence. Distinguished Doug, a Christian scientist and fellow professor who had co-authored a prescient book raising the alarm about the unintended consequences of lockdowns. And while King and Wyma do not profile epistemologically respectable dissidents, nor do they contemplate the passions of Billionaire Bill who stood to gain billions more from mandatory vaccinations, nor of mainstream news sources whose primary source of funding is pharmaceutical . Unchastened 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.

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

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 with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy courses 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) somehow 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 question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with the spirit of our democratic republic. The book’s most consistent refrain is that in defending conspiring theories and counter narratives, these average Christians lack intellectual humility. 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 dissident 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 published the #Twitterfiles exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus, validating suspicions of partisan deplatforming and shadow banning. 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 the scandalous laptop under the pretense of it being Russian disinformation. That 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 conspiring with Antony Blinken. Moreover, the alleged conspiracy between Donald Trump had Russia emerged as 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”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Conspiracy theories are legion, varying wildly in plausibility. Some are left-coded, others right-coded. From my note taking, the list of conspiracies mentioned include: Q’Anon, fake moon landings, the Satanic Panic, COVID vaccines as tracking devices, contrails or chemtrails, “Ukrainian meddling”, the 2020 election was rigged (and 2016?), But our authors have in mind include most of the concerns raised are not particularly about conspiracies, 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.

Both 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

Weakness of Will and Sample Size

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 but rather of a weakness of will. Our pursuit of truth can be lead astray by our passions. King and Wyma offer three caricatures of unwitting 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.’” Thirdly, “Uneven Evan” applies double standards, casting a shrewd eye on left-wing news but swallowing right wing news uncritically.

In a footnote they clarify that they are not claiming that their “illustrations are typical of all conspiracy theorists”, though they do represent real people the authors know. Judicious Jay, a Stanford epidemiologist who carefully distinguished between true and false claims during COVID and led an effort by hundreds of thousands to recommend a different policy to mitigate the harms of the COVID pandemic. Admirable Aaron, a University of California at Irvine Director of Medical Ethics and a frontline doctor who objected to coerced vaccines for himself and fellow medical practitioners, for which he was fired. Vigilant Victor, who went beyond the evening news to scour through studies and papers, minded conflicting expert opinion, and carefully measured his concerns based on the relative strength of various evidence. Distinguished Doug, a Christian scientist and fellow professor who had co-authored a prescient book raising the alarm about the unintended consequences of lockdowns. And while King and Wyma do not profile epistemologically respectable dissidents, nor do they contemplate the passions of Billionaire Bill who stood to gain billions more from mandatory vaccinations, nor of mainstream news sources whose primary source of funding is pharmaceutical . Unchastened 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.

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

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 with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy courses 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) somehow 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 question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with the spirit of our democratic republic. The book’s most consistent refrain is that in defending conspiring theories and counter narratives, these average Christians lack intellectual humility. 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 dissident 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 published the #Twitterfiles exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus, validating suspicions of partisan deplatforming and shadow banning. 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 the scandalous laptop under the pretense of it being Russian disinformation. That 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 conspiring with Antony Blinken. Moreover, the alleged conspiracy between Donald Trump had Russia emerged as 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”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Conspiracy theories are legion, varying wildly in plausibility. Some are left-coded, others right-coded. From my note taking, the list of conspiracies our authors have in mind include: Q’Anon, fake moon landings, COVID vaccines as tracking devices, contrails or chemtrails, “Ukrainian meddling”, the 2020 election was rigged (and 2016?), But most of the concerns raised are not particularly about conspiracies, 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.

Both 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

Weakness of Will and Sample Size

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 but rather of a weakness of will. Our pursuit of truth can be lead astray by our passions. King and Wyma offer three caricatures of unwitting 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.’” Thirdly, “Uneven Evan” applies double standards, casting a shrewd eye on left-wing news but swallowing right wing news uncritically.

In a footnote they clarify that they are not claiming that their “illustrations are typical of all conspiracy theorists”, though they do represent real people the authors know. Judicious Jay, a Stanford epidemiologist who carefully distinguished between true and false claims during COVID and led an effort by hundreds of thousands to recommend a different policy to mitigate the harms of the COVID pandemic. Admirable Aaron, a University of California at Irvine Director of Medical Ethics and a frontline doctor who objected to coerced vaccines for himself and fellow medical practitioners, for which he was fired. Vigilant Victor, who went beyond the evening news to scour through studies and papers, minded conflicting expert opinion, and carefully measured his concerns based on the relative strength of various evidence. Distinguished Doug, a Christian scientist and fellow professor who had co-authored a prescient book raising the alarm about the unintended consequences of lockdowns. And while King and Wyma do not profile epistemologically respectable dissidents, nor do they contemplate the passions of Billionaire Bill who stood to gain billions more from mandatory vaccinations, nor of mainstream news sources whose primary source of funding is pharmaceutical . Unchastened 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.

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 with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy courses 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) somehow 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 question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with the spirit of our democratic republic. The book’s most consistent refrain is that in defending conspiring theories and counter narratives, these average Christians lack intellectual humility. 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 dissident 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 drops, 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 published the #Twitterfiles exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus, validating suspicions of shadow banning. 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 the scandalous laptop under the pretense of it being Russian disinformation. That 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 conspiring with Antony Blinken. Moreover, the alleged conspiracy between Donald Trump had Russia emerged as 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”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Conspiracy theories are legion, varying wildly in plausibility. Some are left-coded, others right-coded. From my note taking, the list of conspiracies our authors have in mind include: the moon landings were faked, COVID vaccines contained tracking devices, contrails or chemtrails, the 2020 election was rigged (and 2016?), But most of the concerns raised are not particularly about conspiracies, but about acquiescence to expert opinion. masks are not effective,

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.

Both 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

Weakness of Will and Sample Size

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 but rather of a weakness of will. Our pursuit of truth can be lead astray by our passions. King and Wyma offer three caricatures of unwitting 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.’” Thirdly, “Uneven Evan” applies double standards, casting a shrewd eye on left-wing news but swallowing right wing news uncritically.

In a footnote they clarify that they are not claiming that their “illustrations are typical of all conspiracy theorists”, though they do represent real people the authors know. Judicious Jay, a Stanford epidemiologist who carefully distinguished between true and false claims during COVID and led an effort by hundreds of thousands to recommend a different policy to mitigate the harms of the COVID pandemic. Admirable Aaron, a University of California at Irvine Director of Medical Ethics and a frontline doctor who objected to coerced vaccines for himself and fellow medical practitioners, for which he was fired. Vigilant Victor, who went beyond the evening news to scour through studies and papers, minded conflicting expert opinion, and carefully measured his concerns based on the relative strength of various evidence. Distinguished Doug, a Christian scientist and fellow professor who had co-authored a prescient book raising the alarm about the unintended consequences of lockdowns. And while King and Wyma do not profile epistemologically respectable dissidents, nor do they contemplate the passions of Billionaire Bill who stood to gain billions more from mandatory vaccinations, nor of mainstream news sources whose primary source of funding is pharmaceutical . Unchastened 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.

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 with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy courses 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) somehow 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 question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with the spirit of our democratic republic. The book’s most consistent refrain is that in defending conspiring theories and counter narratives, these average Christians lack intellectual humility. 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 gloating 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 dissident 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”. 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. The #Twitterfiles had been published exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus, validating suspicions of shadow banning. Two of those social media censors, participants in the conspiracy to silence an October Surprise, publicly admitted it was wrong of them to censor Hunter Biden’s scandalous laptop as Russian disinformation; that was the product of a well-substantiated conspiracy spearheaded by Antony Blinken and facilitated by the government-funded Aspen Institute. Moreover, the alleged conspiracy between Donald Trump had Russia emerged as 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”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

From my note taking, the list of conspiracies our authors have in mind include: masks are not effective, the moon landings were faked, COVID vaccines contained tracking devices, contrails or chemtrails, the 2020 election was rigged (and 2016?),

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

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.

Both 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

Weakness of Will and Sample Size

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 but rather of a weakness of will. Our pursuit of truth can be lead astray by our passions. King and Wyma offer three caricatures of unwitting 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.’” Thirdly, “Uneven Evan” applies double standards, casting a shrewd eye on left-wing news but swallowing right wing news uncritically.

In a footnote they clarify that they are not claiming that their “illustrations are typical of all conspiracy theorists”, though they do represent real people the authors know. Judicious Jay, a Stanford epidemiologist who carefully distinguished between true and false claims during COVID and led an effort by hundreds of thousands to recommend a different policy to mitigate the harms of the COVID pandemic. Admirable Aaron, a University of California at Irvine Director of Medical Ethics and a frontline doctor who objected to coerced vaccines for himself and fellow medical practitioners, for which he was fired. Vigilant Victor, who went beyond the evening news to scour through studies and papers, minded conflicting expert opinion, and carefully measured his concerns based on the relative strength of various evidence. Distinguished Doug, a Christian scientist and fellow professor who had co-authored a prescient book raising the alarm about the unintended consequences of lockdowns. And while King and Wyma do not profile epistemologically respectable dissidents, nor do they contemplate the passions of Billionaire Bill who stood to gain billions more from mandatory vaccinations, nor of mainstream news sources whose primary source of funding is pharmaceutical . Unchastened 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.

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 with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy courses 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) somehow 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 question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with the spirit of our democratic republic. The book’s most consistent refrain is that in defending conspiring theories and counter narratives, these average Christians lack intellectual humility. 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 gloating 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 dissident 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”. 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. The #Twitterfiles had been published exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus, validating suspicions of shadow banning. Two of those social media censors, participants in the conspiracy to silence an October Surprise, publicly admitted it was wrong of them to censor Hunter Biden’s scandalous laptop as Russian disinformation; that was the product of a well-substantiated conspiracy spearheaded by Antony Blinken and facilitated by the government-funded Aspen Institute. Moreover, the alleged conspiracy between Donald Trump had Russia emerged as 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”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

From my note taking, the list of conspiracies our authors have in mind include: masks are not effective, the moon landings were faked, COVID vaccines contained tracking devices, contrails or chemtrails, the 2020 election was (and 2016?),

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

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.

Both 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 had to backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages.

one especially regrettable example

Weakness of Will or Weakness of Spine

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 but rather of a weakness of will. Our pursuit of truth can be lead astray by our passions. King and Wyma offer three caricatures of unwitting 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.’”

In a footnote they clarify that they are not claiming that their “illustrations are typical of all conspiracy theorists”, though they do represent real people the authors know. Judicious Jay, a Stanford epidemiologist who carefully distinguished between true and false claims during COVID and led an effort by hundreds of thousands to recommend a different policy to mitigate the harms of the COVID pandemic. Admirable Aaron, a University of California at Irvine Director of Medical Ethics and a frontline doctor who objected to coerced vaccines for himself and fellow medical practitioners, for which he was fired. Vigilant Victor, who went beyond the evening news to scour through studies and papers, minded conflicting expert opinion, and carefully measured his concerns based on the relative strength of various evidence. Distinguished Doug, a Christian scientist and fellow professor who had co-authored a prescient book raising the alarm about the unintended consequences of lockdowns. And while King and Wyma do not profile epistemologically respectable dissidents, nor do they contemplate the passions of Billionaire Bill who stood to gain billions more from mandatory vaccinations, nor of mainstream news sources whose primary source of funding is pharmaceutical . Unchastened 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.

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 with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy courses 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) somehow 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 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 gloating 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 dissident 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”. 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. The #Twitterfiles had been published exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus, validating suspicions of shadow banning. Two of those social media censors, participants in the conspiracy to silence an October Surprise, publicly admitted it was wrong of them to censor Hunter Biden’s scandalous laptop as Russian disinformation; that was the product of a well-substantiated conspiracy spearheaded by Antony Blinken and facilitated by the government-funded Aspen Institute. Moreover, the alleged conspiracy between Donald Trump had Russia emerged as 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”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

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.

Both 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 had to backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages.

one especially regrettable example

Weakness of Will or Weakness of Spine

Nathan King and .. contribute a sympathetic analysis of conspiracism, attributing it not so much to the usual epistemic vices but to weakness of will. In a nutshell, they point out that our pursuit of truth is undermined by our passions and allegiances. Yes, that’s true. Confirmation bias and selective news gathering to which all are prone are not truth conducive. King and Wyma offer three caricatures of unwitting conspiracists: “Careless Carl” who jumps to conclusions, Bold In a footnote they clarify that they are not claiming that their “illustrations are typical of all conspiracy theorists”, though they do represent real people the authors know. Judicious Jay, a Stanford epidemiologist who carefully distinguished between true and false claims during COVID and led an effort by hundreds of thousands to recommend a different policy to mitigate the harms of the COVID pandemic. Admirable Aaron, a University of California at Irvine Director of Medical Ethics and a frontline doctor who objected to coerced vaccines for himself and fellow medical practitioners, for which he was fired. Vigilant Victor, who went beyond the evening news to scour through studies and papers, minded conflicting expert opinion, and carefully measured his concerns based on the relative strength of various evidence. Distinguished Doug, a Christian scientist and fellow professor who had co-authored a prescient book raising the alarm about the unintended consequences of lockdowns. And while King and Wyma do not profile epistemologically respectable dissidents, nor do they contemplate the passions of Billionaire Bill who stood to gain billions more from mandatory vaccinations, nor of mainstream news sources whose primary source of funding is pharmaceutical . Unchastened 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.