Imagine losing to Flat Earthers
Flat Earth Rebranded // Looks Like Lab-leak is back on the Menu // The Insurrection that never happened
Flat Earth Rebranded
On March 17th, the Equinox True Earth Summit will be held online with a ticket cost of $50. The event will host speakers and entertainers from across the conspiratural fringe, such as Crrow777 (Crow), Sam Tripoli, and the Mellowdome. Organiser, Jeren Campenella, appeared on Crow’s podcast to not only advertise the summit but provide a rationale for rebranding Flat Earth as True Earth. His point was that True Earth resonates better with normies who would otherwise be put off. This is a stroke of genius on his part, distancing the ‘Truther’ movement from the absurdity of Flat Earth while maintaining the central premise of Flat Eartherism - Scientists lie all the time, so we can't trust even trust them to tell us the shape of the earth.
I have maintained Flat Earthers are key to understanding the broader sociology of this radically anti-neoliberal moment in time. Watching the True Earth rebranding in action demonstrates an organisational drive to capitalise upon post-COVID public uncertainties towards scientific authority. The True Earth summit represents a nascent industry of anti-neoliberal identity work that is part spiritual gathering and part motivational speaking event. The main thrust of the True Earth summit appears to be creating a space where speakers that drive ticket sales can deliver bespoke content rather than attempting to establish doctrinal orthodoxy or settle disputes. Indeed, Campanella was keen to confirm that speakers would get paid - even if some chose to donate their time.
Campenella’s focus on capacity building through ticketed events is indeed nothing new (especially within the American context). Still, it continues the trend of online movements moving away from simply organising events that ‘create space’ (like the ill-fated Killroy free speech conference) towards creating independent entertainment circuits (much like professional wrestling in the 1980s). Indeed, professional wrestling is quite the apt comparison as the draw of the event isn’t necessarily the finesse and technique on display, but the value of the characters on the bill. And, much like the growth of professional wrestling, the conspiritual sphere is beginning to develop business leaders that are well positioned to grow their brands by using new technologies and marketing strategies to pique public interest and get asses in seats.
A more significant point is that misinformation practitioners are, again, embarrassing counter-misinformation initiatives. Back in 2014, Gamergate and the nascent Alt-right demonstrated that a small community oriented towards content creation could do a sublime job at agenda-setting and seeding popular narratives. Now it is the Conspiritualists that are illustrating how to construct a self-supporting community around content and ideas. In both cases, there was a notable void of an alternative movement outside of Twitter. While counter-misinfo podcasts and live streams exist, they are mostly isolated. Where these content creators organise events, they are largely one-man shows which have an issue with self-promotion. For example, Knowledge Fight just ran a couple of shows at a local theater (which, well done). Still, in the lead-up to the event, the hosts were asking prospective attendees to temper their expectations and were vocal that they were unsure if their format would lend itself to a live show. As such, my takeaway was that it was a show for Knowledge Fight enthusiasts and not a Knowledge Fight show.
Larger events do take place but are couched in the language of informative webinars, conferences and other scholastic presentations. Great for those looking to be informed, but what is the draw for those looking to be infotained? Adding to this is the generally low production quality of webinars without OBS overlays, bland set design and poor mic quality/technique.
Joan Donovan has, undoubtedly, been a trailblazer in trying to shake counter-misinformation events from their bland stupor, having recently appeared at SXSW and challenging the academic conferences to actually invite the press. But even then, there is phenomenal institutional pushback against the necessary flexibility to tackle misinformation head-on, such as Joan’s Technology and Social Change Project being mothballed by Harvard Kennedy’s Shorenstein Centre and wrapped up in 2024 (for full disclosure, I am a contributing researcher on Joan’s project until the Summer).
Put simply, there is little to get enthused about within the counter-misinfo space. It is a niche fandom that lacks an underpinning network of promotion and community building. In the battle for public attention, Conspiritualists (and other misinfo spheres of influence) have taken the advantage through a ruthless drive to understand what makes audiences tick and how best to serve that content.
Looks Like Lab-leak is back on the Menu
Godwyn’s law is an Internet adage which claims that the longer an online debate, the higher the likelihood that someone will be compared to the Nazis. A similar truism is emerging within misinfo spaces that, given enough time, any conspiracy theory will be proven true. In 2021, I published a paper in Current Sociology wherein I investigated Mister Metokur’s early COVID-19 livestreams (12 weekly streams from January to March, 2020). Metokur’s streams were some of the first sources of information about COVID-19, out competing popular science Youtube platforms like New Scientist and Scientific American.