Why Do People Believe in Conspiracy Theories?

People don’t wake up one morning and suddenly decide to reject reality. It’s a gradual process, where conspiracy theories provide a way of making sense of chaos and online networks a community to belong to. Conspiracy narratives spread faster than ever through social media and other online platforms.

The first time I heard someone claim that COVID-19 was not real, I was standing in the middle of a city square, surrounded by people chanting about freedom.

It was early 2022, and I had been conducting fieldwork among groups in Spain who opposed the pandemic restrictions. I was still adjusting to the rhythm of protest life—the gatherings, the Telegram groups, the endless flow of forwarded voice notes warning about ”the system.”

That day, I was speaking to Antonio, a middle-aged man who had been deeply involved in the movement since the first lockdown. His small shop had gone bankrupt in early 2021, and he had lost faith in the institutions that, in his words, had “abandoned him”.

”At first, I thought COVID was just exaggerated,” he told me. ”But then, I started reading things. Scientists saying it was fake. Studies proving the numbers were manipulated. Once you open your eyes, you start seeing the connections everywhere.”

Antonio wasn’t a scientist. He wasn’t a politician. But to him, the official narrative no longer made sense. He needed a different explanation.

And he found one.

Searching for Answers in a Fractured World

People don’t wake up one morning and suddenly decide to reject reality. It’s a gradual process.

In the early months of the pandemic, uncertainty was everywhere. No one had clear answers. Scientists contradicted each other, governments changed policies overnight, and news channels flooded us with conflicting information.

For some people, this uncertainty was unbearable.

As one protester put it:
”First, they told us not to wear masks. Then, they told us we had to. First, they said vaccines would stop transmission. Then, they said we’d still get infected. How do you expect us to trust anything they say?”

This is where conspiracy theories step in—not just as misinformation, but as a way of making sense of chaos.

Research has shown that people are drawn to conspiratorial thinking for three key reasons:

1. The Need for Control – When the world feels uncertain, conspiracies offer a simple, stable explanation.
2. Distrust in Authorities – If institutions have failed you in the past, why should you trust them now?
3. A Sense of Belonging – Believing in a hidden truth can create a strong in-group identity.

During my fieldwork, I saw these patterns play out over and over again.

People who had lost jobs, lost trust, or felt unheard found community in conspiracy networks. Online forums became their safe space—a place where their fears weren’t dismissed, but validated.

And the deeper they went, the harder it became to leave.

From Skepticism to Radicalization

Not everyone who questions the system becomes a conspiracy theorist.

But for those who do, there’s often a moment—a “break” with mainstream reality—that marks the shift.

Take Lucía, a woman in her late 40s whom I met at a gathering of pandemic skeptics in Spain. At first, she didn’t trust the vaccine, but she was still watching mainstream news. She believed in COVID, she just wasn’t sure about the response.

Then, something happened.

Her sister—vaccinated and perfectly healthy—had a heart attack. Doctors told her it was unrelated to the vaccine, but in the Telegram groups, people were saying otherwise.

She started reading alternative websites. Watching videos about “vaccine injuries.” She stopped watching mainstream news.

And soon, her doubts expanded.

”If they lied about the vaccine,” she told me, ”what else have they lied about?”

By the time I met her, she no longer believed in the pandemic at all. In her mind, it had never existed—it was just a tool for social control.

She wasn’t alone.

Many of the people I interviewed followed a similar trajectory:

• First, doubt about specific details (masks don’t work, vaccines are rushed).
• Then, skepticism about institutions (Big Pharma is manipulating science).
• Finally, complete rejection of the system (The entire pandemic is a hoax).

This progression wasn’t random. It followed a structured logic, fueled by online content and social reinforcement within conspiracy groups.

Once inside, everything becomes evidence. If the government censors conspiracy theories, that just proves they must be true. If experts contradict each other, that confirms they are hiding something.

It’s not about facts anymore.

It’s about trust—and who gets to define reality.

The Role of Social Media

If conspiracy theories have existed for centuries, why do they seem more powerful now?

One word: technology.

In the past, conspiracy theories spread through word-of-mouth, books, underground pamphlets. Now, they spread in real time.

On Telegram, I observed how false claims—like the idea that COVID vaccines contained graphene oxide—went from a single post to a viral movement in days.

People like Ricardo Delgado Martín, a Spanish self-proclaimed bio-statistician, gained huge followings by using scientific-sounding rhetoric to spread misinformation. In a widely shared video, he claimed that graphene in vaccines was interacting with 5G signals to control human behavior.

The argument made no scientific sense.

But it didn’t have to.

The power of conspiracy theories isn’t in their accuracy—it’s in their ability to tap into fear, distrust, and uncertainty.

Can You ”Debunk” a Belief?

So, if conspiracy theories thrive on distrust, can they be debunked?

Yes—and no.

Studies show that fact-checking alone rarely works. If you simply tell someone they’re wrong, they will double down.

The more effective approach is engagement—understanding why people believe what they do and addressing their underlying concerns.

During my research, I noticed that the most successful “de-conversions” happened through gradual exposure to alternative perspectives.

For example, a man I met named Carlos once believed that the pandemic was orchestrated by Bill Gates as part of a global depopulation agenda.

But he also believed in data.

So, when his friend (a doctor) took the time to sit down and show him medical studies, raw statistics, and vaccine safety data, he started questioning things.

It didn’t happen overnight. But eventually, he began to pull away from the conspiracy world.

Not because someone argued with him.

But because someone listened to him first.

The Problem With the ”Conspiracy Theory” Label

At the same time, we have to be careful with how we define ”conspiracy theories” in the first place.

During my fieldwork, I often saw how the term was used not just to describe fringe ideas, but also to discredit inconvenient critiques.

Many of the people I spoke to believed they were not conspiracy theorists at all, but simply asking questions about the system. And in some cases, they had a point.

Governments and corporations do withhold information. Scientific consensus does evolve. Skepticism is not inherently irrational. But when all dissenting voices get lumped together under the umbrella of “conspiracy theories,” something more complex is happening.

Dismissing every alternative viewpoint as a conspiracy theory risks shutting down legitimate critical thinking.

So, where is the line between dissent and denial?

When does skepticism turn into full rejection of reality?

And who gets to decide what is a conspiracy and what is a valid critique of power?

These are the questions I explore in the post: “From Dissent to Denial: How Alternative Narratives Become ”Negationism.”