Psychological interest in religion as an academic discipline can be dated back to the early 20^th century with the work of William James and “The Varieties of Religious Experience”, containing a pragmatic approach to the analysis of the religious experience, in a similar manner to how one would study the human experience. Other scholars subsequently built on this foundation; notably G.W.F. Hegel and Freud. The former of which postulated that systems of religion and philosophy are expressions of a want within the conscious to learn and understand itself and its surroundings. Similarly, Freud employed theory of psychodynamics and psychoanalysis to explain religious belief in psychological terms. Examination of conspiracy theories however is a far more recent undertaking, possibly due to the cultural phenomenon that is their popularisation through the late 20^th and early 21^st centuries (Goldberg, 2001; Fenster, 2008). Empirical work arguably emerged out of an endeavour to understand why people differed in belief in the Warren Commission (Hamsher et al., 1968), a document published by the United States government investigating the assassination of former President J.F. Kennedy. At this point, it is worth noting the careful distinction and separation in definitions of ‘conspiracy’ and conspiracy theories. A conspiracy refers to covert planning between malevolent individuals; such as The Gunpowder Plot, perhaps the most well known conspiracy in British culture (Parkinson, 1976). A conspiracy theory on the other hand is best defined as an explanation for an event, often involving secret plots by powerful elites and is a view that generally opposes the mainstream consensus (Goertzel, 1994; Brotherton, 2013). A common conspiracy theory presents climate change as a hoax, either to halt industrial progression of the West, or to protect scientific research funding (Cooler Heads Coalition, 2002); a theory which an estimated 40% of American citizens believe (Useinski et al., 2017). Exploration of the connectedness between religious and conspiracy theory belief is a more contemporary field of study emerging within the literature. Recent philosophical and anthropological work provides epistemological synthesis and integration of knowledge regarding religion and conspiracy theories (Keeley, 1999; Ward & Voas, 2011; Robertson, 2017). Psychological study of this link, while minimal, has proven influential, identifying significant parallels (Franks et al., 2013; Wood & Douglas, 2019). In order to determine the extent to which conspiracy theories can be considered a quasi-religion, key socio-cognitive factors involved in development of religious belief must be explored and subsequently evaluated relative to their equivalence and homology regarding the motivations of conspiratorial belief. Such motivations can be characterised within epistemic, existential and social dimensions.

Epistemological study concerns itself with understanding sources of knowledge and justified belief (Steup, 2005), and therefore exists as a key concept when investigating religious belief. One such epistemically centred theory presents religion as emanating from hyperactive mechanisms of agency detection. Finding causal explanations for events helps build a stable, accurate and consistent internal model of the natural world (Heider, 1958), and a large body of research exists affirming this cause and effect motivation within the human experience (Jenkins & Ward, 1965; Peterson, 1980; Wasserman et al., 1993). Consequently, when there is no palpable explanation or psychologically satisfying cause for an event, the human tendency is to attribute it to the influence of other agents (Kelley, 1973; Douglas et al., 2016), often divine or supernatural (Leman & Cinnirella, 2013), implying that religion appeals to the natural architecture of the human mind (Boyer & Ramble, 2001). For example, in wake of the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami, some expressed belief that the cause was not the sheer randomness of tectonic movement, but rather an act of vengeful punishment by God, possibly due to the sins of man (Paul & Nadiruzza, 2013; Behreandt, 2005). Herein lies an example of religious teleological thinking; that the natural disaster served an inherent purpose (to rid the world of sin), rather than it being purely random in character. It is at this point the first link between religion and conspiracy theories transpires. Conspiracy theories are perhaps most well known for postulating cause from inherently random events. Continuing the Indian Ocean Tsunami example above, conspiracy theorists put forward that nuclear detonations or use of advanced electromagnetic weaponry by the United States or Israeli governments brought about the ‘natural’ disaster (Sheaffer, 2005). A far more recent example presents the novel SARS-CoV-2 (COVID-19) virus as having a deep, sinister raison d'être (Lee, 2020); an example of conspiratorial teleology. Furthermore, empirical study suggests that the tendency to attribute intentionality to inanimate objects is positively correlated with belief in conspiracy theories (Douglas et al., 2016). Evidently, both religious and conspiracy theory belief are related in the sense that concepts residing in either domain stem from the tendency to perceive meaningful connections between unrelated items, otherwise known as apophenia (Conrad, 1958); more commonly known as patternicity amongst the psychological community (Shermer, 2008). From an evolutionary standpoint the paradigm can be deemed stable. Consider the adaptive value of making more false positives than false negatives. A cost benefit analysis would fall on side of commonly detecting a false agent (a bush that looks like a lion), over failing to detect one in the first place (a lion hiding) (Gray & Wegner, 2010). Although, it is worth noting that while we are all biologically subject to ‘default’ cognitive mechanisms, not all of us are religious, fewer still seriously engage in conspiracy theories. Evidently, further epistemic motivations must be accounted for in order to declare conspiracy theories a quasi-religion.

Reasoning and cognitive style are important elements of religious belief in the epistemological dimension and can account for a range of individual differences regarding faith; some may attribute the combination of given events as merely coincidental, while others may present it as evidence of a causal connection. Influential scholars of the domain point toward differences between analytical thinking and intuitions; in that intuitive thinking requires little time or effort to reach a decision, whereas analytic processing requires greater deliberation but is often more accurate (Gervais & Norenzayan, 2012). In relation to religious belief, empirical work has shown analytical thinking style to be associated with disbelief in epistemically subject ideologies, including paranormal and religious beliefs (Shenhav et al., 2012; Pennycook et al., 2012), implying that concepts of religion are attractive to intuitive reasoning. Literature surrounding this hypothesis in regard to conspiracy theories proposes that analytical thinking is negatively correlated with: “conspiratorial ideation” (Swami et al., 2014), “anti-science” (Gervais, 2015) and “pseudo-profound b******t” (Pennycook et al., 2015). Evidently, there is link to be made here between religious and conspiracy theory belief that further develops the quasi-religion model as both domains are alike in that analytical thinking seems likely to lead to non-belief. However, the deeper cause of these reasoning styles, must be considered in their relation to religion and conspiracy theory. Notably, the effects of motivated reasoning (Kundra, 1990), whereby analytical reasoning entrenches an individual further into pre-conceived ideologies (Kahan, 2013). Conformation bias is a classic example of this; the tendency to engage and search for information supportive of one’s original opinion (Knobloch-Westerwick et al., 2017). For example, dismissing details inconsistent with internalised political beliefs (Redlawsk et al., 2010). Therefore, it would be fair to suggest that, in some cases, the analytical reasoning processes is utilised, not in the name of accuracy, but to protect one’s identity and form convincing arguments (Mercier, 2016). How then has such a large body of research found analytical reasoning to attenuate religious belief (Gervais & Norenzayan, 2012)? The answer may lie in a distinction between analytical thinking and actively open-mindedly thinking (Stanovich & West, 1997), specifically about evidence (Baron, 2019). Recent empirical work has illustrated actively open-minded thinking about evidence (AOT-E) correlates negatively with beliefs of a range of topics such as global warming, and God (Pennycook et al., 2020). However, generalisability of this finding cannot accurately be extended beyond the United States due to employed sampling methods. Overall, literature seems to support the notion that reasoning style is a trait religious and conspiracy theory belief share, although is perhaps better defined as open-mindedness about evidence. Thus the model of conspiracy belief existing as a quasi-religion is strengthened in the epistemological dimension.

The final epistemic topic of discussion concerns the theory of minimal counter intuitiveness (MCI). This approach postulates that concepts are best remembered if it mostly fits preconceptions of the world with one or two items that violate our ontological expectations of the world. Pascal Boyer (1994) coined the phrase in an endeavour to explain the cognitive attraction of religion. In turn, several domain categories were developed that possess specific and inherent physical and psychological traits; any concept that diverges from these traits is thus deemed counterintuitive. For example, plants cannot walk, so a walking tree violates properties of the PLANT category, and as such is more attention grabbing, memorable and possesses greater inferential power (Barrett, 2004); a cognitive optimum if you will. The effect is seen in both adults and children, indicating the robustness of the paradigm (Banerjee et al., 2013; Norenzayan et al., 2006; Tweeny et al., 2006). In terms of religiosity, the literature generally points towards a consensus that MCI concepts are abundant in religion (Barrett & Nyhot, 2001; Boyer, 2001; Norenzayan et al., 2006) and aids its circulation among persons (Sperber, 1996). While there is little literature investigating this effect relative to conspiracy theories, the mnemonic advantage of bizarre information (Hunt, 1995; Schmidt, 1991; Waddill & McDaniel, 1998) could point towards belief of conspiracy theories as operating under similar mechanisms. On the surface, conspiracy theories can certainly be regarded as counterintuitive in nature. However, whether they truly violate deep ontological assumptions of the world can be questioned. Overarching concepts within many religions, like that of spirits, the afterlife and God, violate internalised physical assumptions of the PERSON category. Conspiracy theories on the other hand lack such homogeneity. Some conspiracy theories employ the happenings of supernatural creatures to account for events in a similar modus operandi to religious beliefs; such as David Icke’s theory of blood-thirsty, shapeshifting reptilian humanoids (thus violating the PERSON category of MCI theory) conspiring in a plot against humanity. However, others do not violate assumptions of the world in the same means. For example, proposing that a group of international elites control government, industrial and media organisations in aim of establishing a ‘new world order’ is not contradictory to an individuals internalised understanding of the physical and psychological properties of the world. These types of conspiracy theories are perhaps better defined as counter-schematic in that they violate learned cultural expectations (Johnson et al., 2010). For instance, a dog that can skate better than a human; there is conflict in the expected norms for a dog, but does not violate any of Boyer’s (1994) natural categories. Perhaps then, future research can synthesise a comprehensive distinction between conspiracy theories that employ effects of MCI and theories that operate within the confines of the natural world. In regards to the quasi-religious model of conspiracy theory belief, it would be a fair argument to suggest that both contain generally counterintuitive concepts, but function through differing mechanisms. Indeed, further research is required concerning MCI and conspiracy theories as well as counter-schematicity in both conspiratorial and religious domains in order to develop a more definitive conclusion here.

Existential motivations are concerned with the explanations people need in order to feel safe and in control of their environment and its outcomes (Tetlock, 2002). Threats to this need are thought to be alleviated through compensatory control (Kay et al., 2009). From this perspective, religious belief is considered to be strengthened by threats to an individual’s personal agency as a form of alternate control over the given environment (Laurin et al., 2008; Kay et al., 2010). Empirical work demonstrates the influence of the effect in that levels of patternicity (finding patterns in randomness) can be manipulated through inducing feelings of having or lacking control (Whitson & Galinsky, 2008). Take a natural disaster for instance, if flooding is the result of particularly heavy rainfall, there is little that can be done about it in preventative terms. However, if it were the result of some divine agent, the event can be perceived to be controlled through appeasement or ritual towards this deity. Extending this approach to conspiracy theories, it seems logical that alternative accounts for events reduce the perception of randomness in the world. Research does support this account; individuals have been shown to be more likely to turn to conspiracy theories when anxious or powerless (Grzesiak-Feldman, 2013; Abalakina-Paap et al., 1999), likely due to lacking socio-political control or psychological empowerment (Bruder et al., 2013). The offer to reject the official narrative garners control in it of itself as a person now has possession of a unique, alternative account (Goertzal, 1994). However, there also exists research contradictory to this claim. Exposure to conspiracy theories may supress an individual’s sense of autonomy and control (Douglas & Leite, 2017; Jolley & Douglas, 2014); these persons are less likely to take action that will be beneficial to their autonomy in the long term, or engage with mainstream political processes. If a person does believe in “systemic conspiracy theory” (Barkun, 2003), significant autonomy is taken away from them, and placed in the hand of evil organisations. How then does this impact the construction of the conspiratorial quasi-religion model? Without further research, the link between religion and conspiracy theories regarding compensatory control is unclear. There exists logical and empirical explanations on both sides of the argument and as such, no conclusive statement can be made regarding the extent to which conspiracy theories can be considered a quasi-religion relative to this existential motivation.

Another existential motivation of religious faith is the belief in a just world (BJW). This hypothesis stipulates that the human psyche is inclined to perceive the world as fair, orderly and predictable (Lerner, 1980). In order to be able to plan and achieve goals, one must feel that one’s actions in this world have predictable and manageable outcomes (Hafer & Sutton, 2016), such that people get whatever they deserve, be it good or bad. Religion may satisfy this need. For instance the concept of karma in Buddhism and Hinduism: that actions of the present hold weight in the future such that good deeds will be rewarded and bad ones punished. Similarly, the Christian value that one’s sins are judged in the face of God and the soul will subsequently be sent to Heaven, Hell or Purgatory. The little literature that exists investigating the link between religious belief and BJW theory justifies said link (Rubin & Peplaw, 1975). Although, application of this theory to the conspiracy theory domain presents a conflict. If we are subject to believe that the world is fair, why do systemic theories of “enemies above” (Walker, 2013) gain such attraction, despite the absence of moral justice? Perhaps these theories serve to justify that wider society is righteous. By attributing negative events to specific, cult-like groups, the population as a whole remains innocent. It may be that religion and conspiracy theory belief share elements of the BJW theory. However, the lack of any empirical evidence leaves the relationship hypothetical. Moreover, it can be argued that conspiracy theories don’t provide the moral guidance that religious doctrines do, thus limiting the BJW theory to conspiracy theories, as well as the extent to which they can be considered a quasi-religious model.

Cultural evolutionists suggest that religious belief serves distinct adaptational functions (Sosis & Alcorta, 2003); namely maintaining cooperation of large-scale groups (Dávid-Barrett et al., 2015) in which genetic protection is not adequate (Boyd & Richardson, 1985; Blackmore, 1999). Having a power, greater than that of man, that is always watching and provides judicial power, in this life or the next, seems a great adaptive solution to the free-rider problem, creating cooperation without kinship (Haidt, 2012); to the extent that historically, religion has been used as a powerful political tool, across multiple cultures (Domke & Coe, 2008; Assyaukanie, 2019). Religious and conspiracy theory belief somewhat differ here. Generally, conspiracy theories have been shown to be alienating to believers from wider society (Jolley & Douglas, 2014; Abalakina-Paap et al., 1999), and therefore do not share the same adaptive value. On the other hand, there is some level of a social element to conspiracy theories. Researchers suggest that conspiracy theories serve as a form of defensive recruitment to relieve a group of culpability when in a disadvantaged situation (Uscinski & Parent, 2014; And & Sedek, 2015). Hence, the social function of conspiracy theory may be to protect group identity rather than establish and enhance large group cooperation; an effect that may prove unstable when applied to large-scale groups. That being said, the recent mobilisation of Trump supporters post presidential election may provide a real world example that there is potential for protection of group identity, emerging out of the conspiracy that the presidential vote was ‘stolen’, to form large-scale cooperation. While both religion and conspiracy theories serve a social function at some level, the theoretical mechanisms defined within the literature remain to distinct for conspiracy theories to have quasi-religious properties in the social dimension.

To conclude, the link between religious and conspiracy theory belief is perhaps best defined as analogous. While both domains share similar motivations, they are often expressed through differing mechanisms and are not completely psychologically interchangeable. Additionally, while there exists large bodies of literature studying religion and conspiracy theory, few empirical attempts have been made to unite the two; as such the links provided in this essay remain largely dialectic. Epistemically, religion and conspiracy theory are similar in terms of patternicity, reasoning style and MCI. However, existentially and socially, the relationship is less clear. In a similar manner to how Richard Dawkins presents the genome in “The Selfish Gene”, conspiracy theories are potentially best considered, not as a quasi-religion, but as a meme of sorts whereby conspiracy theories are a by-product of evolved cognitive structures, causing over-detection of patternicity and counter-schematic concepts, amplified in individuals with compatible reasoning styles and transmitted and refined through social means of justification or defensive protection of the self and the in-group. Future research could aim to synthesise a socio-cognitive model of conspiracy theories, similar to the religious model of Willard & Norenzayan (2013), in which a framework of motivations of conspiracy theory belief interact. Overall, while religion and conspiracy theories do share psychological parallels, there does not yet exist enough research in the relevant dimensions to distinctly conclude whether a conspiracy theory can be considered a quasi-religion, and as such is best defined as a hypothetic analogous meme.

This essay was submitted and approved for publication in the May 2021 edition of Psych-Talk; a journal run by the British Psychological Society to showcase student work in the psychological field. To purchase a copy press here.

I would like to thank Adam Baimel for his guidance and teaching about the psychology of religion as part of the Year 3 Advanced Social Psychology Module at Oxford Brookes University.