Some people think Hillary Clinton and other high-profile Democrats were part of a satanic cult drinking the blood of children at a Washington, D.C. pizzeria. It’s tempting to say that people who believe this are stupid. However, we repeatedly see otherwise normal and intelligent people falling down the rabbit hole of conspiracy theories. One way this happens is by conspiracy theories exploiting the psychological appeal of finding hidden meaning in the mundane. This element is key to the aesthetic appeal of activities like puzzles and videogames, where we uncover hidden secrets and interactions. Movements like QAnon abuse this appeal in service of dangerous beliefs.
Various activities and artistic media involve inquiry—working stuff out. Usually, it’s clear what you’re meant to do. In a detective novel, you have to work out who the murderer is. In a sudoku, you work out which numbers go where. A crossword clue like “Capital of Latvia (4)” has an obvious solution, even if you don’t know what it is. But sometimes, you have to inquire not only into content but also into how to interact. Take a cryptic crossword clue like “Exercise a right for fruit (4)”. How does this mean anything at all? (The answer and explanation are at the bottom of this article.)
Several recent videogames have made central this kind of inquiry into interaction, featuring hidden forms of agency for the player to discover. In TUNIC, you are given a game manual in a cryptic foreign language, which you decipher through experimentation. In Animal Well, items have secret uses—playing tunes on the flute teleports you around the world. In The Witness, you find that you can interact with hidden puzzles in unexpected places. (Other examples are FEZ, Rain World, and Outer Wilds). In these “knowledge-based” videogames, the player progresses through acquiring knowledge of their own agency.
Solving any puzzle is satisfying. But working out secret ways of interacting with things is especially so. Our perceptual experience is heavily influenced by affordances for action. We walk into a room and see walls as climbable, chairs as sittable, and windows as breakable. Once we become aware of new actions we can perform, it changes our experience. It gives us a fresh perspective, and we see our environment in a new light. The aesthetic appeal of cryptic crosswords and knowledge-based videogames lies in the struggle to uncover new ways of interacting and how doing so alters our perception.
What’s this got to do with conspiracy theories? QAnon is a notorious conspiracy theory movement, especially popular between 2017 and 2021, centered on decoding cryptic messages posted online by a supposed former government insider (“Q”) close to Donald Trump. It promoted theories that Hillary Clinton is part of a cabal of Democrats drinking the blood of children in the basement of a Washington, D.C. pizza parlor. Several current members of Congress have expressed support for QAnon, while followers like the “QAnon Shaman” were prominent in storming the Capitol building on January 6. (Many have since received presidential pardons from Donald Trump.)
Why do people believe in QAnon conspiracy theories? Research suggests that part of its appeal is the social practice of inquiry. Online forum users would decode the meanings of Q’s cryptic messages, figuring out clues and oblique references, like in alternate-reality games (ARGs) or a treasure hunt. These clues would involve a similar kind of inquiry as cryptic crosswords and the videogames above, where users would have to work out how to interact with content. Followers would dissect Trump’s tweets, taking them as cryptic expressions of support for QAnon, or find hidden clues and “Q”s in pictures and mass media. This inquiry involved a perspective shift, where followers would look for (and think they had “found”) hidden messages in other contexts. They were thinking too much, rather than too little, overanalyzing and searching for meaning where there is none.
Conspiracy theories like QAnon abuse the appeal of searching for hidden interactions. This form of inquiry is fitting within a carefully crafted experience, like a videogame or cryptic crossword, where there is hidden meaning to be found. But it is usually an inappropriate attitude to apply to the real world, where secret messages aren’t really being conveyed through number plates and the typos in Trump’s tweets. Conspiracy theories and those psychologically prone to them attribute agency and intentionality where there is none.
The comparison with games and puzzles can help explain how people fall down the conspiracy theory rabbit hole. One theory in philosophy is that followers of movements like QAnon don’t believe the crazy theories they involve (at least initially). Instead, they engage in a kind of pretense or imagination. The appeal of inquiry can explain the motivation for this. Even if you don’t believe in QAnon, it’s fun to play along! Not only do conspiracy theories offer comforting and coherent narratives, but you feel that you are actively involved in uncovering a secret truth.
But over time, pretense can habituate. While evidence suggests that violent videogames don’t lead to real life violence, playing games does affect us in various other ways. Research in psychology on “game transfer phenomena” shows how players retain attitudes, expectations, emotions, and urges from videogames. There are similar after-effects of pretense in other contexts, as when theatrical actors struggle to transition back after performances, or the Proteus Effect in virtual reality. The aesthetic appeal of conspiracy theories gets people hooked, and over time, their pretense blurs into belief.
Doing crosswords or playing videogames isn’t going to make you a conspiracy theorist. However, these practices do have a similar aesthetic appeal, and this helps explain how people can become tangled in the conspiracy theory web.
Puzzle answer and explanation. “Exercise a right for fruit (4)”: Pear. “Exercise” = PE, “a” = A, “right” = R. “Fruit” describes the answer.
Alex Fisher
Alex Fisher is the Society for Applied Philosophy Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of Leeds. His research examines the aesthetics and ethics of videogames, virtual reality, social media, and dating apps.
Nele van de Mosselaer
Nele van de Mosselaer is an assistant professor at the Department of Philosophy of Tilburg University. Her research explores the relation between imagination, emotions, actions, and desires in the context of fiction experiences.
