Functions of conversation: reflections on conspiracy theories

At a recent conference on metaphor, Andreas Musolff raised the important question about why people repeat and spread conspiracy theories – even totally absurd conspiracy theories. Recent thinking about the motivations for casual talk may shed some light on it. Robin Dunbar argued that language (conversation by means of talking or signing) arose initially as an expansion of primate grooming, a means of developing and solidifying allies (including but not exclusively friends.) Friendly touch releases endorphins, with a pleasurable and calming effect, thus increasing positive affect toward the groomer. Jean-Louis Dessalles (2014) objected that this account does not explain the complexity of language, or the prevalence of story-telling (around 40% of language use) and discussion (most of the remainder). Dessalles argued that, in a social context marked by social hierarchy and the potential for violence, effective language use is a means for demonstrating one’s own value as a friend. This adds to the pleasure of “grooming” five additional ways that conversation demonstrates one’s value as a companion and contribute to developing and strengthening friendships and alliances. Effective language use demonstrates: Ability to generate unexpectedness through narratives. Ability to generate emotion through narrative. Ability to recognize incongruencies. Ability to resolve incongruencies. Ready to share time, i.e companionship. The grooming function described by Dunbar implies a fifth characteristic: Ability to be entertaining – e.g. through humor, flattery, word-play, and so on. Among other phenomena, Dessalles’s ideas in particular seem applicable to the spread of gossip – and of conspiracy theories. Conspiracy theories demonstrate the first four characteristics: they are unexpected, they generate emotion, they center on incongruencies, and the provide a means of resolving those congruencies – however outlandish it may seem. Indeed, the more outlandish the conspiracy theory is, the more entertaining it is. Other well-known social psychological theories help to explain the persistence of conspiracy theories: Social proof, cognitive dissonance, motivated reasoning, selective attention.

The Eyes Have It

In Madrid for a few days before a conference in nearby Alcala de Heneres, I visited the Prado, which has a special exhibit comparing the styles of El Greco and Picasso, who studied and was inspired by El Greco. The point the curator emphasized in the exhibit notes had to do with how El Greco’s approach to structure (verticals) and perspective (relatively flat) inspired Picasso’s Cubist paintings in particular. The curator’s notes stressed the diminished use of perspective in both sets of paintings. Certainly there was no linear perspective or depth (smaller images to denote far away, etc.) but several of El Greco’s paintings in the show express a lot of emotional depth – a kind of perspective I think– and the Picasso cubist paintings in the sample create a sense of depth perspective, not through lines but through use of light and dark. They are nearly monochromatic – greyish-tans of varying intensities, but that narrow color palette emphasizes the effect of depth. So the curator focused on structure – and seems to have missed a remarkable feature of at least three of the El Grecos selected for the show, the eyes and lips, especially San Juan and San Bartolomeo. I thought about buying the printed guide but the photo reproductions do not capture the power in either eyes or lips: a great example of the superiority of viewing the original. I was first struck by the portrait of San Juan the Evangelist (St. John), dated 1610. His eyes are turned intensely left (viewer’s right), lips set and determined, as if he is engaged in an angry or fierce debate). A similar 1605 painting in the next room has similar disposition, but the lips slightly definite, eyes much less strong and hard, and even slightly watery; the two versions are otherwise quite similar. I went back and looked at St. Bartolomeo; his eyes also directed toward his left but they are softer, almost querulous. His lips are also softer, almost trembling; he looks old and tired. I didn’t read it as doubt or even pain, sorrow maybe. San Pablo (St. Paul) is reading, finger on a book (can’t tell if it’s a gospel), eyes softer (thoughtful, maybe), not at all fierce like those of John. That’s interesting because given the legalism and harshness of some of Paul’s letters I would expect to see more determination and precision, more like a thoughtful stare. San Simon is just intensely reading, eyes more centered toward the book. I didn’t even notice that portrait at first. I looked at several of the other religious portraits from El Greco’s time and even earlier: None of them have the intensity of El Greco’s San Juan or San Bartolomeo. For the most part the eyes are turned heavenward or (Jesus and Mary) downward toward the sinners and disciples. Eyes in most of the other examples in El Prado are softer, attempting to depict sorrow, piety, etc. That’s part of the reason these two caught my eye so strongly. El Greco’s understanding of facial expression seems quite modern – and I find his choices interesting in contrast to the conventional presentation of the saints. In contrast to the more typical allegorical presentation of saints, I was quite struck by how El Greco used lips and eyes to give these apostles individual personalities.