SCOTT SIMON, HOST:
Probably not a week goes by that we don't get an email that says why don't you tell the truth about - blank - the Kennedy Assassination, 9/11, the Lincoln assassination, the Masons, President Obama or John McCain's birthplace, Pearl Harbor, Area 51, black helicopters and the moon landing. Fill in the blank however you like.
In his new book, "The United States of Paranoia," Jesse Walker, a senior editor at Reason Magazine, suggests that paranoid political arguments are as American as apple pie. Jesse Walker joins us from member station WYPR in Baltimore. Thanks so much for being with us.
JESSE WALKER: Thanks for having me.
SIMON: One of your first major points is if you look at the opinion polls, conspiracy theories are not necessarily marginal.
WALKER: No. I mean, there's a classic essay that everyone cites on conspiracy theories, is Richard Hofstadter's "The Paranoid Style in American Politics," and he says in there that the paranoid style is a marginal phenomenon. They're popular among marginal movements. But in fact, even among the things that we usually think of as conspiracy theories, opinion polls show a great deal of Americans, in some cases a majority of Americans, believing in secret cabals.
SIMON: Now, in your account, our national predilection, if you please, for paranoia, really begins in settler days. Give us a couple of colonial conspiracy theories, if you could.
WALKER: Obviously, the Salem witch trials are a famous one, although it's not as well-known the extent to which, you know, people suspect that - tried to draw connections, I should say, between the invisible forces that were imagined in Salem and the more visible forces that were surrounding the colony, the fear of Native American conspiracies.
And also just the beginning of King Philip's War, which began with the mysterious death of an Indian who came to warn the settlers that King Philip of the Wampanoag tribe was plotting an assault on them. The death was believed to be an assassination. Now, to this day, we don't know if it was an accident or an assassination, and if it was a murder, we don't know if Philip was behind it. It's one of those great open questions that will never be solved.
SIMON: I want to take up the 1950s and McCarthyism because you - I think you cite the paranoia we can safely say, 50 years, 60 years on, all know about. But you think there was a lot of paranoia all over the spectrum.
WALKER: Yeah. I mean, there was, obviously there was the Red Scare of the time, and McCarthy is sort of the person who becomes the symbol of that in retrospect. But for one thing, that the Red Scare built on what the historians call the Brown Scare of, you know, World War II and immediately before then, which was similar to the Red Scare in that there was this understandable fear of the agents of a totalitarian power, in this case Nazi Germany, but which then spread to a lot of conservative commentators who were not, you know, at all sympathetic to fascism.
Also, there was going on what the historian David Johnson has called the Lavender Scare, which was this great fear of gays and lesbians in the civil service, and one result of this was this massive purge. I mean, the director of the CIA, you know, in testimony described gays and lesbians as a, quote, "government within the government." You know, very paranoid rhetoric.
And more people were actually fired during this period for being, you know, gay or allegedly gay than were fired for being Communist or allegedly Communist. Which makes sense, because, you know, there've always been more gays than Communists in America.
SIMON: I think a lot of people will enjoy reading your analysis of popular entertainment. You even find some of this in "My Three Sons."
WALKER: Oh, yeah. I have a chapter on the 1970s and the way that sort of culture was transformed in the post-Watergate investigations in the very real conspiracies. And then I look at sort of the effect of this in popular culture, and I contrast an episode of "My Three Sons" from the '60s with an episode of "Good Times" from the 1970s.
And they're both about a family that falls under, you know, federal surveillance, but in the "My Three Sons" episode, you know, it's benign and we sort of chuckle along as the spies have to listen in on, you know, the son; one of the three sons, having this sort of halting courtship over the phone, and it's for everyone's good. And then at the end Fred MacMurray...
SIMON: And this is because Fred MacMurray, the father, is a defense contractor or something?
WALKER: He's working on a top-secret project, so they're, you know, watching them for everyone's own good. And at the end of the episode, Fred MacMurray turns to the camera and says: Well, I guess I can tell you what it is now. It's - and then they bleep out what he says, they scramble it. And it's just, you watch it now, it's incredibly chilling. It's like the secret state is in our, you know, living rooms blocking the television set.
But at the time, you know, that it aired, they just sort of run it with a laugh track. It's just another joke. Contrast that with, you know, the "Good Times" episode just a little over a decade later. And this episode also ends with the father and the family looking at the camera 'cause he's gotten his job back - it's been resolved - but then he looks at the camera and says, I have a feeling that somewhere out there there's still a file with my name on it.
And this time there's no laugh track. It's a chilling moment that is supposed to be a chilling moment. And it really shows how much the American culture changed from the early '60s to the mid-'70s, what with all the revelations that had come out.
SIMON: Jesse Walker of Reason Magazine. His new book, "The United States of Paranoia." Mr. Walker, keep watching the skies.
WALKER: Yeah, thank you.
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