Conspiracy theories are here to stay. Here’s how to win back the theorists.

When I was in college, a Modern American History professor decided to stir the conspiratorial waters when he began class with this provocation: “Oswald did it. He did it alone. He was one, independent whack job that changed the course of history all by himself.”

Satisfied, he closed his notebook, put his hands in his pockets, and readied himself for the barrage. To be sure, most of the students who were clinging to every ounce of shaky evidence used to dispel the “one independent whack job” explanation of the JFK assassination never actually believed the far-fetched theories that, then nearly 40 years after the murder, were still alive and well. But the arguments were fun. There is entertainment value to unraveling a mystery, assembling a pattern of clues, and poking holes in convention.

Today, conspiracy theories tell a much more dangerous story. “Plandemic” believers erode a trust in government and medical institutions, increasing the risk of virus spread. Holocaust deniers give credence to antisemitic tropes and violence. An extreme “Qanon” follower shot up a pizza restaurant believing he was saving victimized children. It can be easy to dismiss those who get caught up in these theories as gullible or misinformed, but in truth, the purveyors of these theories take advantage of the same psychology as any good communicator, even if unwittingly.

The human mind relies on two systems that work in tandem. The associative mind acts quickly, creating shortcuts to help us understand the world around us. These shortcuts form narratives and do the bulk of the work when it comes to human thought. The associative mind informs and feeds the conscious mind, which we use to interpret the world and make decisions on what action to take or not take. The conscious mind decides to comfort someone we love. The associative mind tells us they need comforting.

The patterns and connective lines that the associative mind is constantly looking for are not subject to logic or even truth. I won the game wearing these sneakers; therefore, these are my lucky sneakers.

Conspiracy theorists simply take this natural inclination to its logical extreme. They take advantage of the human mind’s incessant search for patterns. Researchers in 2014 even revealed that our tendency to see patterns even when none exist is directly associated with the belief in conspiracy theories. The more you rely on structure, the more susceptible you are to conspiracy theory. Given the mind’s role in latching onto a conspiracy theory, and the personal characteristics that contribute to conspiracy belief, what can be done to combat conspiracy spread?

The answer lies in many of the same skills the social sector has used for years to advocate for causes. To guide a conspiracy believer out of the wilderness and back to reality, try employing some time-honored principles of persuasive communications:

1. Find common ground.
Being a part of a tribe, or feeling as if you are, helps tremendously when acting against one’s inclination. Establishing some connection before you rebuff their worldview makes it more difficult for the associative mind to immediately trigger “fight or flight” when it senses conflict.

2. Reframe, don’t reject.
Instead of dismissing their belief out of hand, offer up an explanation that might speak to their broader worldview. For example, research shows that conservatives are more likely to support environmental policies when framed through the lens of morality (preserving purity and sacredness of our planet) versus a hardline anti-corporate argument.

3. Personalize.
Anti-vaxxers are often not anti-science. They’re simply scared. Talk to them about their fears. Share stories of patients who have been infected with vaccine-preventable disease. Invoking these emotions helps to create new pathways in the brain that can lead to different conclusions.

4. Tell a story.
Our inclination to bombard detractors with peer-reviewed research and data ignores the ancient tradition of storytelling and its impact on human thought. Narratives increase understanding, interest, and engagement. Arguments increase rancor, defensiveness, and cognitive dissonance.

5. Ask about beliefs.
Instead of immediately launching into the reasons a believer is wrong, simply ask the question first. “Do you actually believe the moon landing was a farce?” Research shows that while exposure to a conspiracy increases the likelihood of belief in the conspiracy, asking about beliefs prompts additional thinking about the claim and softens confidence in the claim, allowing for a momentary reexamination of the conspiracy and providing an opportunity for more open conversation.

Our natural inclination is to shower the believer in facts. Sadly, researchers have demonstrated again and again that not only does myth-busting not work, it actually makes the problem worse. Leon Festinger’s book When Prophecy Fails famously showed us more than sixty-years ago that when true believers – such as members of a religious cult – are confronted with demonstrable proof of their wrongness, they double down. When their designated dooms day came and went without incident, instead of reexamining their prediction, “they made sense of the failed prophecy by concluding that their piety had been recognized and indeed had saved the rest of humanity.”

Not all conspiracy theorists are doomsday cult members. Many can be led to safer ground with a little patience, empathy, and a few good communications tactics.