QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross

Written by Christians for Christians, the goal of QAnon, Chaos, and the Cross: Christianity and Conspiracy Theories is two-fold: 1) to explain why evangelical Christians are more likely than other Christians to embrace conspiracy theories, and 2) to outline the dangers conspiracism poses for Christian unity and credibility as well as for political stability. There is some fruitful analysis in this collection of essays edited by Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock, but the majority of contributors fail to consider the ways Christianity, especially in its evangelical form, promotes conspiratorial thinking. Instead, they largely blame individuals for misinterpreting scripture out of ignorance and misplaced emotions, and they tend to attribute both to the sinful nature of human beings.

The emphasis on conspiracism as an individual rather than institutional failure is evident from the first essay, in which Stephen Davis and Eric Yang blame evangelical conspiracists for not being dedicated to the truth. They argue that the study of scripture, theology, logic, and philosophy are of great “practical importance” for understanding scripture correctly. Chad Bogosian adopts a similar position, faulting Christian conspiracists for accepting bad evidence, but without clarifying what constitutes good evidence that “might come from a handful of sources, such as perception, experience, testimony, memory, conceptual insight . . . and cognitive intuition” (17). Dru Johnson criticizes Christians “who grow illiterate regarding the Bible’s intellectual world” (126), while Garrett DeWeese is disturbed by the proclivity of evangelicals to distrust science without adequate examination.

Other contributors turn to psychology to explain Christian conspiracism. Scott Culpepper stresses the personal cost of debunking conspiracy theories, since this often entails a loss of communal identity. Shawn and Mariena Graves discuss the attractions conspiracy theories have in providing individuals with a false sense of purpose. David Horner, Michael Austin, and Gregory Bock attribute Christian conspiracism to individual moral failings: the propensity to argue over non-essential issues; lack of humility; and quickness to anger. Nathan King and Keith Wyma claim Christian conspiracists suffer from “an intellectual kind of weakness of will” that causes them to act on their emotions rather than reason (108-9). Dominique Turnipseed elaborates on this idea by criticizing evangelicals for emphasizing faith and ignoring Thomas Aquinas’ harmonization of faith and reason (132). Turnipseed combines this with a complex analysis of the idea of Christ as logos (word) to conclude that Christian conspiracists have misunderstood this fundamental Christian truth (143). Rick Langer, Tim Muehlhoff, and Jason Cook agree that Christian conspiracists are driven by their emotions to demonize those with whom they disagree. Rachel I. Wightman sees the same problem facing Christians on the internet. Instead of paying attention “to what the Holy Spirit might be teaching and where we are being led in our online spaces,” conspiracists are “getting sucked into the shiny technology as we passively consume content” (211). The problem with blaming individuals for misunderstanding scripture and accepting conspiracy theories is that it ignores foundational ideas in Protestant, and particularly evangelical, Christianity that foster anti-intellectualism, such as the inerrancy of the biblical text and textual literalism.

Several authors come close to recognizing the way Christianity fosters conspiracy theories. In each case, however, they ignore their insight and fall back on the idea that sinful humans are to blame. Chase Andre points out that while QAnon rhetoric mirrors Christian descriptions of the warfare between good and evil, Christian conspiracists fail to realize that scripture is “against forces of evil in the heavenly realms” and not against “actual people” (195-6). This is clearly not true for Christians who have killed in the name of Jesus. Daniel Bennett and Kaitlyn Schiess attribute Christian conspiracism to political divisions that have infected evangelical beliefs. But Bennett concludes that this “is rooted in our fallen human nature” (119), while Schiess, like Andre, blames individuals for confusing “spiritual warfare” with “earthly conflict” (231). Steven Porter comes closest to the problems posed by the biblical text when he analyzes Jesus’ denunciation of the Pharisees in Matthew 23, where he calls them “hypocrites” (v. 13), “whitewashed tombs” (v. 27), “snakes” (v. 33), and a “brood of vipers” (v. 33) Porter asks, “Does this not show that following Jesus is consistent with name-calling and otherwise demeaning one’s opponents?” (264-65). His answer is “no” on the grounds that Jesus is practicing “enemy love”: He, “we might say, was speaking truth to power, but he was not using demeaning language” (266). He was simply addressing “the tragic end result of thousands of years of Israel’s rebellion against God and violence against those whom God sent” (265). This conclusion is hardly objective and seems inconsistent with Jesus’ injunction, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged” (Matt. 7).

A minority of contributors recognize how evangelism promotes conspiracism. Susan Peppers-Bates claims evangelicals have reduced God to a “white male idol” (145), which gives them license to demonize individuals who perceive God differently. Michelle Panchuk agrees, citing the harsh treatment of LBGTQ+ individuals by many evangelicals. Aaron Simmons and Devin Carnahan draw a direct connection between evangelism and conspiracism: “In short, conspiracism is not the errant conclusion of evangelical reasoning, but rather one of the background beliefs about the world they hold” (94-95). According to the Gospels, Jesus was crucified by conspiratorial Pharisees and his own disciple Judas. Evangelicals erroneously view themselves as a persecuted minority in a world dominated by anti-Christian liberals who must be exposed and opposed (91). Christian Miller agrees that Christians are conspiracists on the unverifiable grounds that the conspiracists were the members of the Trinity: “The most important conspiracy theory there ever has been is a theory about the existence of God as three divine persons who are responsible for so many different features of the world. That theory is a conspiracy. And it is true” (106).

It seems doubtful this collection of essays will successfully steer conservative Christians away from conspiracy theories because they fail to address the very real problems inherent in evangelical theology. When Martin Luther and subsequent Protestants argued for “the priesthood of all believers,” the inerrancy of the biblical text, and a literal interpretation, they inadvertently opened the way for the anti-intellectualism that pervades evangelical thinking, a point Richard Hofstadter made in his Pulitzer-prize-winning Anti-Intellectualism in American Life (Knopf, 1963). With the increasing influence of social media, it is more important than ever to recognize how Christianity has been weaponized by conservatives to spread mistrust of science, undermine education, and foster religious intolerance, racism, and sexism, while encouraging violence against those who have “poisoned the blood” of “real”—code for “white”—Americans.

Allison P. Coudert is professor emerita in the Department of Religious Studies, University of California at Davis.

Allison P. Coudert

Date Of Review:

April 3, 2024