If every epoch has to have a defining question, something that characterises the feeling of the time, then ours is: Cui bono? Who benefits? Arising somehow from the ashes of trust in Westminster and a disquiet with a globalisation no one can control, we, culturally, seem happier and happier to explain the causes of events by looking to who benefits from them.
Dominique Strauss-Kahn's arrest in New York is a case in point. The story whipped up a media frenzy as political analysts, philosophers, psychologists and even psychoanalysts were rolled out to debate the various aspects of the case. What was most interesting was the speed at which discussions about who would benefit most from DSK's downfall took centre stage. It was as if this was the magical key to unlocking the truth.
Evidence was in short supply, yet commentators pointed the finger of blame at the Sarkozy camp, the Americans and even the Russians. Everywhere, in fact, except at the man himself. Regional councillor Michèle Sabban went all-out and denounced it as an "international conspiracy" to bring down the former head of the IMF. And the media fallout was reflected in the public sphere: polls in France revealed that almost 60% of the population agreed that DSK was the victim of a conspiracy.
The DSK case is only the tip of the iceberg, the latest in a long parade of conspiracy theories that have queued up for their share of airtime and column inches. The recent "birther" theory, for example, supported by over 20% of Americans, holds that Barack Obama was not born in the US and forged his birth certificate. Then there are those who don't believe in the recent killing of Osama bin Laden. These – let's call them the "deathers" – hold that perhaps he has been dead and kept on ice for the last 10 years, hidden "behind the frozen peas and oven chips" until it was politically opportune to defrost him (this one got airtime on Russia Today).
To the "deathers" we can, of course, add the "truthers" – those who believe that the US government caused or allowed the attacks on 9/11 (to replace the bogeyman of the USSR as a way to control the public and pave the way to Iraq). A 2008 poll put the number of people who thought al-Qaida was behind the 9/11 attacks at 16% in Egypt, 11% in Jordan and 32% in China. Only a bare majority – 57% – thought so in the UK. These powerful ideas bounce around to all the corners of the internet before the government can "strongly reject…".
But there is a serious point here. Conspiracy theorists are not typically driven by a dispassionate search for truth. Conspiracy theories have become an attractive, addictive habit, offering a comforting explanation for an increasingly complex, mysterious world. For those who are distant from the great decisions and the powerful people that shape our lives, there is a mystique that allows little room for coincidence or accident. They can offer social status, too. Conspiracy theorists often set themselves up as heroic defenders of life, liberty and truth. The well-known YouTube conspiricists compete to break the next scandal to stay ahead. Conspiracy websites sell T-shirts emblazoned with "You Are the Resistance", "Legalise Freedom" and "Tyranny Response Team" (for only $20, you too can join the crusade to smash corporate interests).
There is some truth to the claim that conspiracy theories exist because conspiracies exist. No doubt some do: during Operation Northwoods in 1963 the US joint chiefs of staff discussed (but never implemented) manufacturing a false Cuban terror campaign in the US as a reason for war. In 1973, the CIA was involved in a coup against the democratically elected Chilean leader Salvador Allende. And the CIA's Project MKULTRA, involving universities, hospitals and pharma companies, did indeed attempt to manipulate mental states through the secret administration of drugs, hypnosis and isolation to unknowing patients.
Conspiracy theories view certain events as the work of a hidden, powerful elite that secretly influence world affairs while concealing their interests, irrespective of the available evidence. In exposing these conspiracies, one question above all others directs their efforts: who benefits? When world events seem the marionettes of the "powers that be" (read: a cabal of Bilderburg, Zionist, Masonic, CIA, Mossad, government, Bond villain superplotters – delete as appropriate), when everything is connected, nothing is as it seems and interest reigns supreme, this is a logic that seems the most sensible, the most relevant.
If, despite all evidence, we start explaining all events by cui bono, the world suddenly becomes perhaps a little darker, a little more treacherous and frankly a lot simpler and straightforward than it ought to be. We often find that the facts are crowbarred into a world view that has little time for things that aren't conspiracies.
We should be agnostics to the question, rather than its high priests and priestesses. The problem is when people's distrust becomes a kneejerk reaction of any official line, regardless of the evidence. Presuming there is a plot in every case is as myopic and frankly silly as presuming there isn't. When the next big story breaks, let's not lose our scepticism about the powers that be, but let's not become dyed-in-the-wool cynics either.