I’ve got a theory about conspiracy theorists

Queensferry Crossing: Is it a bridge or a crashed spaceship being fixed by aliens desperate to return home to their 'Kingdom', a bit like Fife commuters (Picture: Ian Georgeson)

Conspiracy theories are back in the news this week and don’t we love ’em.

Anyone who’s been following the death of disgraced financier and convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein can easily smell a rat, given his links to our very own Prince Andrew and US President Donald Trumpet.

I’m sure in the weeks ahead it will come as no surprise to learn of ‘deep state’ involvement stretching back all the way to our very own Royal family in Epstein’s supposed suicide in his Manhattan jail cell, while awaiting trial for sex-trafficking of children. No doubt our very own Prince Philip will have been pulling the strings, emboldened from ordering the security service to make the deaths of our very own Diana, the People’s Princess, and Dodi Fayed look like an ‘accident’ back in 1997.

Dedicated conspiracy theorists understand this, to suggest otherwise is akin to being seen out with your best mate who’s wearing an ‘I’m with this Idiot’ t-shirt. Duh.

However, there comes a point in everyone’s life, say around the age of 19, where you have to put down the joint and the beef-flavoured Monster Munch and leave the conspiracy theories to the likes of Netflix.

It’s great fun discussing who shot JFK with your mates (Oswald acting alone), be it down the boozer or in the comfort of your own home, after the Wall’s Viennetta has been served with Simply Red playing gently in the background.

But in my experience these types of encounters can often act as a social tell, like a poor poker player giving their hand away.

If without really noticing it, the conversation veers from fake moon landings towards “the Rothschilds control everything” or “MI6 rigged the 2014 Indy referendum” then chances are you’ve got a KP nutter on your hands and next time it might be best if their homemade lasagne stays at home with them. Gently guide them on their way as you hand back the six cans of Kestrel Super Premium Lager they brought. Bless. Be seeing ya. This kind of nonsense can easily creep in to these types of chats and all too often goes largely unchecked.

Without wanting to sound overly harsh, you’re definitely a bit of a saddo if you’re still hankering after conspiracy theories to explain why life hasn’t quite panned out the way you expected by the time you’ve hit your 40s. Stuck in a boring 9-5 office job, wife, kids and the boss doing your nut in, drinking a wee bit too much and not clearing the overdraft?

Easy, that’s the fault of shadowy elites who have infiltrated HR, ensuring that only young people who understand the bloody computers and something called ‘digital’ get promoted. Yip, the deep state has genuinely conspired to stop you – Rab fi Leith – from getting oan in the world. Pass the herb.

Most of the ‘really good’ conspiracy theories come from the US and are borne out of people’s fears and a desire to understand the basic question: how could that happen?

They often evolve from a perceived failing of the state to protect, be it the life of a president or a politician in the case of JFK or his brother Robert who were both gunned down in their prime. It feels like our personal security has been compromised in some way.

The 9/11 terrorist attacks are a great example of how conspiracy theories evolve. In this case, they range from a controlled demolition contributing to the collapse of the Twin Towers caused by government insiders to the bringing down of the mysterious World Trade Center 7 building which housed the CIA and Secret Service – as part of a cover-up to hide state complicity in the attacks. And United Airlines Flight 93 was shot down by fighter jets before it could reach the White House.

In this conspiracy-driven environment, hundreds if not thousands of eye-witness accounts are pushed aside in favour of a narrative chosen by those who spend too much time sitting in their Y-fronts browsing the internet. The desire to push the truth to one side in this instance seems overwhelming for some. Nineteen hijackers armed with nothing more than craft knives – or Stanley knives like the football casuals of the 80s – hijacked, then weaponised three out of four planes, murdering around 3,000 people in the richest, most powerful country in the world.

The knock-on effect of this was two wars – one in Iraq, which had as much to do with the 9/11 attacks as Iceland – at a total cost that is still running into the trillions. It’s no surprise some folk embrace conspiracy theory alternatives when the truth, as was the case on 11 September, 2001, is so shocking to accept.

The list of conspiracy theories is endless, a shopping list of bampottery from the Flat Earth Society to anti-vaccination types, global warming deniers and everything in between. Believers clearly haven’t got over being lied to as kids and I do have a modicum of sympathy with this.

From our first steps, we’re fed a constant stream of lies, designed to regulate our behaviour – Santa will take you off his list, look what the the tooth fairy has brought in the middle of the night, and the police will come and take you away to the school for bad boys.

In this environement, it’s no wonder some ‘damaged people’ seek their own alternative truth. I have my own conspiracy theory that has come to me in recent days and it goes like this.

The Queensferry Crossing isn’t really a bridge at all but a spaceship from another planet that has crash landed in the Firth of Forth. Like commuters from Fife, the 50 or so workmen in orange suits on it every night are aliens desperate to get back to their own Kingdom.

The truth, my friends, is out there...

I’ve got a theory about conspiracy theorists – Kevan Christie