Denialism and ‘assertism’ are two sides of the same coin

When you believe in nothing, you can believe in anything. World leaders might deny climate change, evolution, or genocides involving their citizens. However, such people have no trouble spreading stories of immigrants eating house pets or being born non-biologically or the impossibility of gender equality “because it goes against the laws of nature.” 

Former U.S. President  Donald Trump called climate change a hoax, and on being told of sea levels rising, responded with: “Great, we have more waterfront property.” He might be an extreme example of a person of consequence denying facts while simultaneously giving breath to lies. 

“Denialism”, a word in use since mid-nineteenth century, is defined as “the practice of denying the existence, truth, or validity of something despite proof or strong evidence that it is real, true, or valid.” 

We are all in denial occasionally. A friend invites us home to dinner which turns out to be terrible but we say, “What a grand meal that was!” Being in denial is an important element of social discourse. The only acceptable answer when someone asks if she has put on weight is: “Of course not.” Sometimes we maintain a diplomatic silence about things we see clearly. This is necessary denial, a mild or even apathetic version of denialism. Refusing to acknowledge a bad habit in oneself is a form of denial too. 

Denialism and, to coin a word, “assertism”, the practice of insisting on the existence or truth of something despite proof it is not valid, are two sides of the same coin. Both distort the truth. What connects them is irrational belief. Conspiracy theories grow out of such belief. 

According to a Public Policy Polling survey about a decade ago, some 12 million Americans believed that interstellar lizards in people suits ruled the country. About twice that number believed the moon landing was faked. Banging on pots and pans would drive away the Covid-19 virus we were told and millions responded with vigour. 

Conspiracy theories recognise that some people do not accept the current narrative. That is not always a bad thing, as a psychologist once pointed out. For if we were all completely trusting, it would not be good for survival. 

Supporters of a certain type of politician will believe anything he says, however bizarre. This stems from trust in the leader. Perhaps it acknowledges he is articulating something hidden deep within us. The ‘other’, for example, is a useful construct. 

When political leaders spout patent nonsense, it does not matter if they themselves believe it or not. What matters is that a significant number of others do. Pseudo-science and pseudo-religion are thus weaponised. 

You can debunk a former President’s theory in the middle of a debate watched live by 67 million people saying there is no evidence of pets being eaten by immigrants. And he will respond in the manner so many do, with: “I saw it on television.” Doubtless there are communities somewhere – like the Flat Earth Society - which believe television does not exist.