The Paranoid Style of Politics & How All Humans Are Prone to Conspiracy No Matter How Intelligent You Are

Yes, I'm talking about you, you silly goose

If you’re ever lost in a forest, they say the trick is to zoom out—your own sense of direction isn’t exactly what you’d call “trustworthy” when you’re focused on a single tree. Rowan Atkinson (yes, Mr. Bean) once said that humans are most productive when their body is relaxed, and their mind is in deep concentration. But when you’re tense? Oh, that’s when the magic happens—sarcasm. That’s when you start acting like a maniac, clutching onto every little thing as if the universe is out to get you, and suddenly you’re stammering through a conversation with your high school crush and saying something that’ll haunt you forever. Welcome to the scarcity mindset—where everything feels like it’s life or death. But when your mind and body align, well, then you’ve entered the realm of abundance. A world of endless possibilities, where you’re not clinging to just one idea as if it’s a life raft.

If you’re into political science (don’t worry, this won’t be a lecture), you might recognize the reference in my title. Back in 1964, Richard Hofstadter penned a masterpiece in Harper’s called The Paranoid Style in American Politics. The piece was so spot on, it’s shaped how we talk about political movements ever since. It starts off with a rather mild observation: “American politics has often been an arena for angry minds.” Oh really, Rich? Tell us more! I won’t spoil the whole thing (you should definitely check it out in Harper’s archives), but the gist is that no one is a certified lunatic. The people fueling these movements are, by and large, normal folks—not heroes, not villains, just flawed humans who are often wrong. And no one, no matter how self-righteous, can ever say they’re 100% correct about anything...at least not until the future finally proves them wrong.

Whenever I think about this, I can’t help but picture those Mandalorians, solemnly chanting “This is the way” as they march off to their noble, yet slightly impractical, destinies. Moral certainty is a hell of a drug. Take Hermione Granger in Harry Potter, for example. She’s all about freeing the house elves because, hey, who could argue with that? Slavery is bad, right? But in her righteous crusade, she forgets to ask one tiny question: “Hey, house elves, do you want to be freed?” Spoiler alert: They didn’t. Hermione’s brilliant, no doubt. She’s saved the day a thousand times and aced every test. But guess what? She’s not infallible. It’s classic Dunning-Kruger: the more you think you know, the less you actually see.

So what happens when you get so wrapped up in your noble cause that you lose sight of reality? That’s the scarcity mindset again, folks. You become convinced that you’re in a righteous battle, a David against Goliath, and anyone who dares question you is clearly the enemy. Welcome to the Black and White Fallacy, where your fear-fueled brain limits you to just two options: with us or against us. It's like you’ve put blinders on to the third option—the one where both sides might actually have a point. But your fixation on being right keeps you from seeing it. And before you know it, you’re sprinting toward a cliff, certain that it’s a shortcut to Utopia, while the people waving warning signs are just trying to stop your glorious destiny. In reality? You’re about to take a nosedive into a pit.

This is why democracy—and more importantly, open discourse—isn’t just a nice idea. It’s vital. It’s the zoomed-out view that keeps us from getting lost in the forest of our own self-righteousness.

So, what’s the secret sauce to approaching the world’s issues without losing your mind or your humanity? Lately, I’ve been diving into some Nietzsche. (Stay with me, it’s good stuff, I promise.) He offers this nifty little framework: you’ve got one side, where morality’s all about compassion and empathy for the oppressed. Noble, right? Then there’s the other side, rooted in individualism and strength. Equally compelling, if you like a bit of grit. But Nietzsche says both are prone to extremes and echo chambers. His solution? The Übermensch—someone who transcends this black-and-white thinking by taking a bit from both sides, crafting a balanced, grounded approach that tackles obstacles holistically. It’s the secret third option, the one that helps you rise above the fray and actually make a difference.

So, next time you’re feeling entrenched in political mud, convinced that the “other side” is evil incarnate, take a step back. Zoom out. There’s a whole forest out there beyond the tree you’re banging your head against. You might just find a way out.