First, if you actually spend time and read Sunstein's 30-odd pages, you realize this is, in fact, a purely intellectual exercise (as I said before), and a quite interesting one at that. It's a great primer on conspiracy theories, how they work, why they thrive, and whether or not they require a public policy response. He even stipulates that his (and a co-author's) suggestions should only be taken assuming a "(real or imagined) well-motivated government," that is, one acting on the interest of the public welfare and under a system of extensive civil liberties. (See p. 16.)
Greenwald wrongly interprets that quote to say Sunstein believes the current American government is well-motivated, but he -- like VM -- does not understand what an "intellectual exercise" is (logic arguments often begin, "assume X," for instance, though Esquire can probably talk about that better than I can). Early in the abstract, when Sunstein suggests the American government may "ban" conspiracy theories in "imaginable conditions," Greenwald angrily responds that no such thing can be done. It's weird -- it's as if he doesn't understand what "imagination" means, or the difference between possibility and reality. (And can he really not even imagine certain situations in which the government may have to restrict the First Amendment? What's wrong with this guy?)
Second, Sunstein's scariest idea -- the "cognitive infiltration" of groups -- turns out to be fairly innocuous. Out of the entire paper, it occupies only a page (from 21 to 22), and includes extensive caveats that Greenwald conveniently ignores in his tirade. The argument boils down to this: Sunstein does not think that conspiracy theories -- which must be false and harmful, as well as display narrow, distinctive features -- can be rebutted with counter-evidence that observe standard epistemological conventions (he offers a range of mind-boggling examples related to the 9/11 Truth movement).
Instead, he suggests the government agents "might enter chat rooms, online social networks, or even real-space groups" and raise doubts about the factual premises of conspiracy theories. That might be worrying to those with even a casual knowledge of the history of domestic surveillance in this country. But Sunstein gets that too: he suggests one variant, in which "Arabic-speaking Muslim officials from the State Department" identify themselves and chat in Islamist networks. (I know: how dare he! What utter fascist madness!)
Yes, he also suggests government officials may also do the same anonymously, acknowledging that the method carries greater risks. Nowhere does Sunstein suggest this is the only and best and fool-proof way to combat conspiracy theories; he says -- looking at the evidence cited in this paper, with references to the latest sociological and legal data -- the American government may consider doing something, knowing fully the risks (which includes an abuse of power), if faced with a particularly dangerous situation. Sunstein's paper should be taken fully in the context of the current war against Islamist extremists, who thrive on their own conspiracy theories to recruit thousands of followers. To bar an academic from studying the phenomenon, or suggesting possible solutions, sounds downright ridiculous to me.
(Note, also, that law enforcement authorities already uses a similar method regularly, deploying informers and undercover agents to crack terror cells and hard cases.) If you have time only to read one page of this paper, read the one Greenwald's most angry about -- p. 22 -- and you will see what I mean about the academic tone of Sunstein's argument.
Finally, consider Greenwald's own errors. He compares Sunstein's suggestions to particular Bush Administration episodes (many of which Sunstein actually unfavorably cites in his paper). But those actions -- paying a think tank to disagree with a particular view on climate change, for instance -- would not qualify under Sunstein's program, since he's concerned with potentially violent and pernicious conspiracy theories, not Administration policies (and he specifically notes that the anti-global warming crowd -- as well as Santa Claus -- do not count).
Greenwald then weirdly condemns the American government for planting pro-U.S. stories in Iraqi newspapers during the height of the insurgency there. Sunstein discusses the episode (see p. 27) and makes some good points: first, he concedes the effort may have failed because the connection to the U.S. government was discovered, thereby blunting its value. But he also notes that the affair took place during an intensely violent war in a foreign country, where many American rights and conventions do not always apply (does Greenwald think that the American government cannot even drop pro-U.S. leaflets from the sky to demoralize the enemy?). Finally, Sunstein notes that conspiracy theories often thrive in foreign countries with a low level of civil liberties, and in a malfunctioning marketplace of ideas, the United States might have to ensure that its side at least has a presence in the public sphere.
But, again, the tone here is completely academic: he discusses the drawbacks of, say, banning an anti-American newspaper (as Paul Bremer did in 2004), calling it an immensely complicated question (see p. 28). For Greenwald -- and VM -- there's no gray whatsoever, and there's not even a need to consider this profoundly complex problem (even though it's come up again and again for the American government fighting a war). Why bother, when you can ring up an intellectual witch-hunt instead?
Please, when you have the time, read the paper. And, please, dismiss Greenwald's bigger conclusion: that academics who try to confront difficult issues be banned from public service for doing so (a strikingly anti-free speech position, if I ever heard one).
Good night,
B.
P.S. Please also see my other angry post of the night; my latest comment on our fascism obsession in VM's original post about this subject last week.
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