The Stench of Propaganda Clings to Everything
Deception, Self-Deception, and Epistemological Vertigo
Let “propaganda” be very roughly defined as any attempt to shape an audience’s beliefs for purposes other than informing them of the truth. So defined, reflecting on several features of propaganda should induce a sense of epistemological vertigo. More specifically, it should substantially increase your confidence that you’re a propagandist and that your beliefs have been powerfully distorted by propaganda.
First, propagandists can have many different motivations. In some cases, they seek to manipulate an audience’s beliefs for selfish, manipulative reasons. Think, for example, of tobacco companies that sought to manufacture doubt about the dangers of smoking, or politicians who aim to convince audiences that a fair election was stolen from them.
However, much propaganda is prosocial. When parents seek to persuade their children that Santa Claus exists to encourage good behaviour (“Have you been good for Santa?”), they are engaged in propaganda. When people seek to convince their community that a moralising God or supernatural force exists as a way of encouraging good behaviour (“Have you been good for God?”), they are engaged in propaganda. When a social justice activist exaggerates racism, sexism, or the dangers of climate change to get apathetic citizens to care about such things, they are engaged in propaganda.
Propaganda can also be performative. People are obsessive impression managers. In many contexts, people propagandise not to convince audiences that a message is true but to signal that they, the propagandist, sincerely and passionately believe it. “Here are five reasons why X is important” conveys the message that you think X is important. Political or religious evangelism sends a credible signal of commitment and allegiance to your political or religious community and its shared values.
Second, humans are instinctive propagandists. It’s tempting to think of “propaganda” as the kind of thing that only powerful individuals and organisations do. But this is wrong. Humans are ultra-social primates. Throughout our evolutionary history, individual survival and success were strongly dependent on the ability to influence other people in advantageous ways. Propaganda is an essential tool of influence.
When you selectively release flattering photos for your Instagram or dating profile, you are engaged in propaganda. When you frame your life choices and traits in self-serving or self-aggrandising ways, you are engaged in propaganda. When you talk about politics in ways biased by partisan, class, or demographic allegiances, you are engaged in propaganda.
Third, people are strongly disposed to internalise their propaganda. When we are motivated to spread (“propagate”) a message, we tend to become persuaded of that message ourselves. The reasons for this are unclear. One likely explanation is that the most effective salespeople sincerely believe in the value of their product. “With all great deceivers,” writes Nietzsche, “there is a noteworthy occurrence to which they owe their power. In the actual act of deception they are overcome by belief in themselves.” Whatever the cause, it means that much propaganda doesn’t feel like propaganda. If you internalise an idea, its communication will feel sincere. The desire to propagandise will be experienced as a desire to inform.
Fourth, propaganda can and does involve many different tactics. Some people define propaganda as a mode of communication distinguished by things like emotional appeals, brute repetition, and other stock “manipulation techniques.” This is wrong.
Propagandists can and do use a wide variety of tactics. This includes the presentation of objective data, rational argumentation, the citation of high-quality, peer-reviewed studies, the stigmatisation and punishment of dissenting viewpoints, the creation of prestigious artworks that convey specific messages, and the attempt to make preferred viewpoints trendy and high-status. Propaganda is neither defined nor identifiable by its tactics.
Fifth, propagandistic tactics vary in their sophistication and effectiveness. Sophisticated propaganda rarely involves fake news, brazen falsehoods, or outright lies. It involves subtle biases in how information is revealed, omitted, framed, and packaged in specific narrative or interpretive schemes, as well as social forces that encourage distinctive modes of communication and self-censorship.
In general, the most sophisticated and effective propaganda “hides the propaganda as much as possible.” In other words, there is an inverse relationship between propaganda’s detectability and its effectiveness.
Sixth, propagandists vary in their ability to produce sophisticated and effective propaganda. The most impactful propagandists are intelligent, knowledgeable, socially savvy, and influential. Moreover, propaganda is typically a team sport. When people’s propagandistic motives align, they coordinate in ways conducive to promoting and protecting preferred messages. The success of such collective efforts is determined by the individual attributes of group members, the group’s size, its relative power and prestige, and the skill with which its members coordinate.
Seventh, the more effective the propaganda, the more the propagandist internalises it. What determines whether propagandists internalise their message or remain consciously manipulative? One significant factor concerns how well the propaganda works. In part, this is because its effectiveness provides a reliable barometer of its persuasiveness, and it’s much easier to become persuaded by persuasive propaganda. But it’s also because when an audience is convinced of a message, it provides “social proof” of the message’s truth.
“The more successful a liar is,” writes Hannah Arendt, “the more likely it is that he will fall prey to his own fabrications.” To illustrate this, she recounts a story:
“It is a story about what happened one night in a town on whose watchtower a sentry was on duty day and night to warn the people of the approach of the enemy. The sentry was a man given to practical jokes, and that night he sounded the alarm just in order to give the townsfolk a little scare. His success was overwhelming: everybody rushed to the walls and the last to rush was the sentry himself.”
After reflecting on these points, ask yourself the following questions:
How confident are you that you are not a propagandist?
How confident are you that your beliefs have not been shaped by propaganda?
How confident are you that you can detect propaganda?
And finally: If this essay is propaganda, what message am I trying to propagate?
I am unsure of the point of this essay. Everything involves some level of propaganda, and it is omnipresent. The essay would be more interesting to me if it could demonstrate instances of the absence of propaganda, if such a thing exists.
Nice piece, and a pleasure to read. If you wish to venture from the realm of clean and well ordered theory into the gnarly realm of applied social science, it would be interesting to hear your thoughts on various prominent categories of propaganda. The first category—universal awareness—is where everyone knows that the information landscape is propaganda and adjusts their lives, habits, and cognitive patterns accordingly (e.g., postwar Russia). The second category—unaware immersion—is where most people are unaware of a given ambient background of propaganda (e.g., postwar America), which perhaps forces us to contemplate the differences between myth and propaganda. A third category—dueling populist polarization—emerges when oppositional populisms face off, with each side’s messaging accepted by its intended audience and labeled propaganda by opponents; this one forces us to meditate on the existence of truth. In re this third category It is worth noting the obvious impossibility of a perfectly symmetrical what-aboutist landscape in which both sides are magically and equally false; asymmetries in fact, evidence, and institutional power almost always give one side a greater share of the distortion. As a side salad, it would also be amusing to consider intentional propaganda—news that is unashamedly and blatantly biased as part of its brand identity. In the early days of the printing press, this form of propaganda prevailed, and it seems like now would be a great moment for scholars and historians to weigh the pros and cons of this older, more transparent model. Starting in the 1990s we saw a monopolar reemergence of this style of news reporting, and I have yet to encounter a well-posed thought-piece that uncovers potential insights about our current media landscape and the political lines it draws—dividing into self-aware bias on one hand, and blazing propaganda on the other. My hunch is that a thorough and honest analysis might reveal that, at this moment, the liberal cohort may be due for a healthy amount of critical self-reflection, and the conservatives may find that certain changes of tone could tilt things in their favor. For any young academic ready to absorb some slings and arrows from all directions, there ought to be a tenure argument hiding in these hostile but fertile marshes.