Conspiracy theories
A couple of years ago I was taking an English exam for my postgrad studies. Now, I know English reasonably well so there shouldn't have been a reason for worry - and still I almost ended with apoplexy, and the reason for this was the exam question.
The guy giving the exam was a professor from the language department, and when he heard I was a historian, he smiled at me happily and said: "Oh, how nice! I've read some interesting things I've always wanted to discuss with a historian. Have you heard that the human history was several centuries shorter that we are taught?"
"Huh?" I said intelligently, but he went on as happily as before. "Yes," he said, "all that ancient history was drawn out for too long - it really happened only about thousand years ago."
"Erm," I said carefully," and what about historical evidence?"
He waved his hand dismissively. "Oh really, what evidence is there for all this ancient history? And what little there is historians misinterpreted to propagate the accepted theories. Well, what do you think about it?"
I did not know how to say to a professor giving you an exam that he is an idiot and doesn't know what he's talking about (I still don't, by the way). So I coughed diplomatically and said: "I suppose I'm very lucky then since I'm dealing with the extremely well documented 16th century".
Luckily, that was that. But the problem was that the professor wasn't actually mad - he just had read a book. In all probability it was one of the books by Nikolai Fomenko, an eminent mathematician, member of the Academy of Sciences who probably decided after maths history was easy. He wrote many books declaring that the way we count our past years is wrong and untrue - and all the evidence to the contrary is just historians lying and falsifying data to protect their job.
Fomenko's books are very popular and people keep buying them, and I still don't know why. I am all for the mysteries of history - "The Name of the Rose" is one of my favourite books - but the attractions of a conspiracy theory beat me. I don't even know how to argue with Fomenko's readers. I mean, whatever I tell them, they're bound to think I'm just conspiring to hide the truth and destroy the evidence.
The love for conspiracy theories seem to consist of two parts: a search for mysteries that aren't there and a method of backing these mysteries up without any research or information by accusing everyone else of hiding the evidence. The first part by itself can be pretty annoying - my musings today are partly because of someone on a mailing list who's bginning to drive me up the wall by insisting on finding puzzles and hidden clues in a set of novels perfectly enjoyable by themselves.
This kind of things is getting old very quickly, but at least my listsib is just enjoying the books in his own way and not declaring that the clues were destroyed. It's the second part, where such theorists are accusing everyone else and dismissing all the evidence, that troubles me. Why is the idea that conspiracy is everywhere so popular? Fomenko may be crazy, but people are willing to listen to him. And even more people find enjoyment in Dan Brown's books where every old conspiracy suspect is trotted oiut and paraded, from illuminati to Opus Dei. I was unable to finish any of those books, so for all that I know he might even have modern day knights templar plotting against his hero.
I thought that the love for conspiracy theories might be explained by people feeling lack of control over their lives, but then I started pondering further: what if we have in our time a kind of... religious reverence for truth? Why is the idea of secret knowledge so enchanting? Truth, especially in science and such, is so important that perhaps many people feel it can't be that simple. Truth must be in the domain of a single valiant researcher fighting against the forces of evil. Truth can't be what everyone knows already, because then there is nothing to expect.
I am probably arguing this in circles, but I still don't have an explanation, and for me explanation of reasoning was always one of the greatest true mysteries. I still want to know why.
The guy giving the exam was a professor from the language department, and when he heard I was a historian, he smiled at me happily and said: "Oh, how nice! I've read some interesting things I've always wanted to discuss with a historian. Have you heard that the human history was several centuries shorter that we are taught?"
"Huh?" I said intelligently, but he went on as happily as before. "Yes," he said, "all that ancient history was drawn out for too long - it really happened only about thousand years ago."
"Erm," I said carefully," and what about historical evidence?"
He waved his hand dismissively. "Oh really, what evidence is there for all this ancient history? And what little there is historians misinterpreted to propagate the accepted theories. Well, what do you think about it?"
I did not know how to say to a professor giving you an exam that he is an idiot and doesn't know what he's talking about (I still don't, by the way). So I coughed diplomatically and said: "I suppose I'm very lucky then since I'm dealing with the extremely well documented 16th century".
Luckily, that was that. But the problem was that the professor wasn't actually mad - he just had read a book. In all probability it was one of the books by Nikolai Fomenko, an eminent mathematician, member of the Academy of Sciences who probably decided after maths history was easy. He wrote many books declaring that the way we count our past years is wrong and untrue - and all the evidence to the contrary is just historians lying and falsifying data to protect their job.
Fomenko's books are very popular and people keep buying them, and I still don't know why. I am all for the mysteries of history - "The Name of the Rose" is one of my favourite books - but the attractions of a conspiracy theory beat me. I don't even know how to argue with Fomenko's readers. I mean, whatever I tell them, they're bound to think I'm just conspiring to hide the truth and destroy the evidence.
The love for conspiracy theories seem to consist of two parts: a search for mysteries that aren't there and a method of backing these mysteries up without any research or information by accusing everyone else of hiding the evidence. The first part by itself can be pretty annoying - my musings today are partly because of someone on a mailing list who's bginning to drive me up the wall by insisting on finding puzzles and hidden clues in a set of novels perfectly enjoyable by themselves.
This kind of things is getting old very quickly, but at least my listsib is just enjoying the books in his own way and not declaring that the clues were destroyed. It's the second part, where such theorists are accusing everyone else and dismissing all the evidence, that troubles me. Why is the idea that conspiracy is everywhere so popular? Fomenko may be crazy, but people are willing to listen to him. And even more people find enjoyment in Dan Brown's books where every old conspiracy suspect is trotted oiut and paraded, from illuminati to Opus Dei. I was unable to finish any of those books, so for all that I know he might even have modern day knights templar plotting against his hero.
I thought that the love for conspiracy theories might be explained by people feeling lack of control over their lives, but then I started pondering further: what if we have in our time a kind of... religious reverence for truth? Why is the idea of secret knowledge so enchanting? Truth, especially in science and such, is so important that perhaps many people feel it can't be that simple. Truth must be in the domain of a single valiant researcher fighting against the forces of evil. Truth can't be what everyone knows already, because then there is nothing to expect.
I am probably arguing this in circles, but I still don't have an explanation, and for me explanation of reasoning was always one of the greatest true mysteries. I still want to know why.