Arkansas Democrat-Gazette

From election to covid-19

9/11 conspiraci­es cast a long shadow

- DAVID KLEPPER

Korey Rowe served tours in Iraq and Afghanista­n and returned to the U.S. in 2004 traumatize­d and disillusio­ned. His experience­s overseas and nagging questions about Sept. 11, 2001, convinced him America’s leaders were lying about what happened that day and the wars that followed.

The result was “Loose Change,” a 2005 documentar­y produced by Rowe and written and directed by his childhood friend, Dylan Avery, that popularize­d the theory the U.S. government was behind 9/11. One of the first viral hits of the still-young internet, it encouraged millions to question what they were told.

While the attacks united many Americans in grief and anger, “Loose Change” spoke to the disaffecte­d.

“It was the lightning rod that caught the lightning,” Rowe recalls. He had hoped the film would prompt a sober reassessme­nt of the attacks. Rowe, who lives in Oneonta, N.Y., doesn’t regret the film, and still questions the events of 9/11, but says he’s deeply troubled by what 9/11 conspiracy theories revealed about the corrosive nature of misinforma­tion on the internet.

Twenty years on, the skepticism and suspicion first revealed by 9/11 conspiracy theories has metastasiz­ed, spread by the internet and nurtured by pundits and politician­s such as Donald Trump. One hoax after another has emerged, each more bizarre than the last: birtherism. Pizzagate. QAnon.

“Look at where it’s gone: You have people storming the Capitol because they believe the election was a fraud. You have people who won’t get vaccinated and they’re dying in hospitals,” Rowe says. “We’ve gotten to the point where informatio­n is actually killing people.”

There were, of course, conspiracy theories before 9/11 happened — John F. Kennedy’s assassinat­ion, the moon landing, a supposed 1947 UFO crash in Roswell, N.M. And the country’s interest in alternativ­e, fringe theories was on the rise before 9/11, exemplifie­d by the 1990s show “The X-Files,” with its taglines of “The truth is out there” and “trust no one.” But it was 9/11 that heralded our current era of suspicion and disbelief and revealed the internet’s ability to catalyze conspiracy theories.

“Conspiracy theories have always been with us, and it’s just the means of sharing them that has changed,” says Karen Douglas, a psychology professor at the University of Kent in England who studies why people believe such explanatio­ns. “The internet had made conspiracy theories more visible and easy to share than ever before. People can also very quickly find like-minded others, join groups, and share their opinions.”

Conspiracy theories about the attack and its aftermath also gave early exposure to some of the same people pushing hoaxes and unfounded claims about covid-19, vaccines and the 2020 election, including Alex Jones, the Trump-supporting publisher of InfoWars, who has accused the United States of plotting the attacks and has said the 2012 Sandy Hook shooting was a hoax. Jones was a co-producer of the third edition of “Loose Change.”

Polls show belief in 9/11 conspiracy theories peaked in the years immediatel­y following the attack, then subsided. Repeated surveys show a small percentage of Americans continue to harbor doubts about the official explanatio­n of the attacks.

It’s not surprising such views persist, or that they have ebbed over time. Shocking, sudden events often spawn conspiracy theories as people collective­ly grapple with understand­ing them, says Mark Fenster, a University of Florida law school professor who has studied the history of conspiracy theories in America.

“A plane that runs into the World Trade Center? That runs into the Pentagon? It sounds like the stuff of films,” Fenster says. “It just didn’t seem like a real event, and it’s when you have a major anomalous event like this that conspiracy theories sometimes come around.”

Before the internet, conspiracy theorists relied on books, pamphlets and the occasional late night television show to espouse their beliefs. Now, they can swap theories on message boards such as Reddit, post videos on YouTube, and win over new converts on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram.

The first known 9/11 conspiracy theory was put forward only hours after the attack, when an American software engineer emailed a post to an internet forum questionin­g whether the towers were toppled by a controlled detonation.

Twenty years on, a search on YouTube for content related to 9/11 turns up millions of hits.

Thousands of videos focus on conspiracy theories. That is a lot, but the grandfathe­r of modern conspiracy theories has been outpaced by the upstarts: A Google search of “9/11 conspiracy theory” turns up more than

“Look at where it’s gone: You have people storming the Capitol because they believe the election was a fraud. You have people who won’t get vaccinated and they’re dying in hospitals. We’ve gotten to the point where informatio­n is actually killing people.”

— Korey Rowe, producer of ‘Loose Change,’ 2005 documentar­y that popularize­d the theory the U.S. government was behind 9/11

“What’s different this time is that it was the party that was in power — the party that had the White House — that was the main broadcaste­r of conspiracy theories”

— Mark Fenster, University of Florida law school professor

8 million results, while a search for “covid conspiracy theory” turns up more than three times that.

Tech companies say they have done what they can to limit the spread of false informatio­n about 9/11. YouTube has added links to authoritat­ive sources to some 9/11-related videos. Facebook says it has added fact checks to several viral hoaxes about 9/11, including one the Pentagon was struck by a missile and not a plane.

For many younger Americans who came of age after 9/11, the internet is the first place they go for informatio­n on the event. Sept. 11 isn’t taught consistent­ly in schools; some districts require it while others brush over it or ignore it completely.

False claims about the attacks often come up at the National Sept. 11 Memorial and Museum, which offers educationa­l services to visitors and school children across the country. Such instances are an opportunit­y to talk about the facts of what did happen, and the many investigat­ions that followed, according to Megan Jones, senior director of educationa­l programs at the memorial.

“We have a generation now with no memory of 9/11, so it’s important to share the stories of what happened,” Jones says.

Bogus claims about the Sept. 11 attacks never posed the threat now ascribed to misinforma­tion about covid-19 or the 2020 U.S. elections. But even proponents of 9/11 conspiracy theories say questions about what happened primed the pump for the distrust and anxiety behind today’s conspiracy theories.

“The danger is, once you have that distrust of authority and government, it’s a dangerous place to be,” says Matt Campbell, a British citizen whose brother died in the World Trade Center on 9/11. Campbell believes the towers came down after a controlled demolition, and is seeking a new inquest in the UK to review his brother’s death.

“If you think everything they’re telling you is a lie, then you just switch off: ‘Could be true, might not be true, whatever,’” Campbell says.

On the grand scale, such the distrust the underlies such beliefs can become dangerous when they begin to divide a society, or when they are exploited by a political leader or an outside adversary.

“Usually it is the case that the people who feel they are being excluded from power who are committed to conspiracy theories,” Fenster says. “What’s different this time is that it was the party that was in power — the party that had the White House — that was the main broadcaste­r of conspiracy theories.”

Early on, conspiracy theories about Sept. 11 were popular with some liberals who disliked former President George W. Bush or who opposed the wars in Iraq and Afghanista­n. But after Barack Obama became president, bogus claims about 9/11 began growing in popularity among some conservati­ves who cite it as an example of the handiwork of the “Deep State.”

Two years before winning her seat in Congress in 2020, Georgia Republican Marjorie Taylor Greene said she doubted a plane actually hit the Pentagon. Last year she acknowledg­ed she had been wrong, and sought to deflect blame by saying it was the government’s fault she spread misinforma­tion.

“The problem is our government lies to us so much to protect the Deep State, it’s hard sometimes to know what is real and what is not,” she tweeted.

Ben Crew is a screenwrit­er who has produced a video debunking many popular 9/11 conspiracy theories. He’s also started a project in which he travels the country collecting personal accounts of 9/11, with the goal of getting at least one story from all 50 states.

Crew hears lots of conspiracy theories — claims about a missile hitting the Pentagon, claims the airliners hitting the World Trade Center and the Pentagon and crashed in Shanksvill­e, Pa., were empty.

He says almost everyone he interviews considers 9/11 to be a pivotal point in American history, the start of a wave of anxiety and fear that for many people still hasn’t crested.

“It seems like there’s an opportunit­y for everything to just catch fire now,” Crew says. “Nine-eleven ignited that.”

Early on, conspiracy theories about Sept. 11 were popular with some liberals who disliked former President George W. Bush or who opposed the wars in Iraq and Afghanista­n. But after Barack Obama became president, bogus claims about 9/11 began growing in popularity among some conservati­ves who cite it as an example of the handiwork of the “Deep State.”

 ?? (File Photo/AP/Beth A. Keiser) ?? Rescue workers continue their search Sept. 13, 2001, as smoke rises from the rubble of the World Trade Center in New York.
(File Photo/AP/Beth A. Keiser) Rescue workers continue their search Sept. 13, 2001, as smoke rises from the rubble of the World Trade Center in New York.
 ?? (AP/Robert Bumsted) ?? Korey Rowe edits video in his video production office at his home in Oneonta, N.Y. Twenty years on, the skepticism and suspicion first revealed by 9/11 conspiracy theories has metastasiz­ed, spread by the internet and nurtured by pundits and politician­s such as Donald Trump. One hoax after another has emerged, each more bizarre than the last: birtherism. Pizzagate. QAnon.
(AP/Robert Bumsted) Korey Rowe edits video in his video production office at his home in Oneonta, N.Y. Twenty years on, the skepticism and suspicion first revealed by 9/11 conspiracy theories has metastasiz­ed, spread by the internet and nurtured by pundits and politician­s such as Donald Trump. One hoax after another has emerged, each more bizarre than the last: birtherism. Pizzagate. QAnon.
 ?? (File Photo/AP/Ted S. Warren) ?? A person dressed as “Lady Liberty” wears a shirt with the letter Q, referring to QAnon, as protesters take part in a Jan. 6 protest at the Capitol in Olympia, Wash., against the counting of electoral votes in Washington, D.C., affirming President-elect Joe Biden’s victory.
(File Photo/AP/Ted S. Warren) A person dressed as “Lady Liberty” wears a shirt with the letter Q, referring to QAnon, as protesters take part in a Jan. 6 protest at the Capitol in Olympia, Wash., against the counting of electoral votes in Washington, D.C., affirming President-elect Joe Biden’s victory.
 ?? (AP/Robert Bumsted) ?? Korey Rowe sits his home in Oneonta, N.Y. Rowe served tours in Iraq and Afghanista­n and returned to the U.S. in 2004
traumatize­d and disillusio­ned. His experience­s overseas and nagging questions about Sept. 11, 2001, convinced him America’s leaders were lying about what happened that day and the wars that followed.
(AP/Robert Bumsted) Korey Rowe sits his home in Oneonta, N.Y. Rowe served tours in Iraq and Afghanista­n and returned to the U.S. in 2004 traumatize­d and disillusio­ned. His experience­s overseas and nagging questions about Sept. 11, 2001, convinced him America’s leaders were lying about what happened that day and the wars that followed.
 ?? (AP/Robert Bumsted) ?? Rowe uses his video camera near his home/
(AP/Robert Bumsted) Rowe uses his video camera near his home/
 ?? (File Photo/AP/Dario Lopez-Mills) ?? Jacob Anthony Chansley, who also goes by the name Jake Angeli, a QAnon believer, speaks Nov. 5 to a crowd of President Donald Trump supporters outside of the Maricopa County Recorder’s Office where votes in the general election are being counted, in Phoenix.
(File Photo/AP/Dario Lopez-Mills) Jacob Anthony Chansley, who also goes by the name Jake Angeli, a QAnon believer, speaks Nov. 5 to a crowd of President Donald Trump supporters outside of the Maricopa County Recorder’s Office where votes in the general election are being counted, in Phoenix.

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