These people have lost their minds. I’m just going to leave this NY Times article here for the record. It is astonishing. If you want to actually hear them talking, you can do so at the link.
For the past three weeks, a group of Trump supporters and QAnon believers met online, swapped theories and eagerly awaited the conspiracy’s violent climax. I was listening in. This is what they sounded like.
“We have to trust that there’s going to be military tribunals and we’ll get to watch all kind of executions.”“They’re guilty. Treason. Behead ’em all.”“Bring in the firing squad.”
As President Biden’s inauguration ticked closer, some of Donald Trump’s supporters were feeling gleeful. Mr. Trump was on the cusp of declaring martial law, they believed. Military tribunals would follow, then televised executions, then Democrats and other deep state operatives would finally be brought to justice.
These were honestly held beliefs. Dozens of Trump supporters spoke regularly over the past three weeks on a public audio chat room app, where they uploaded short recordings instead of typing. In these candid digital confessionals, participants would crack jokes, share hopes and make predictions.
“Look at the last four years. They haven’t listened to a thing we’ve said. Um … there’s going to have to be some serious anarchy that goes on. Otherwise, nothing is going to change.”
I spent the past three weeks listening to the channel — from before the Jan. 6 Washington protest to after Mr. Biden’s inauguration. It became an obsession, something I’d check first thing every morning and listen to as I fell asleep at night. Participants tend to revere Mr. Trump and believe he’ll end the crisis outlined by Q: that the world is run by a cabal of pedophiles who operate a sex-trafficking ring, among other crimes. While the chat room group is relatively small, with only about 900 subscribers, it offers a glimpse into a worrying sect of Trump supporters. Some conspiracists like them have turned to violent language in the wake of Mr. Trump’s electoral loss.
“If the Biden inauguration wants to come in and take your weapons and force vaccination, you have due process to blow them the [expletive] away. Do it.”
There’s a persistent belief that the online world is somehow not real. Extreme views are too easily dismissed if they’re on the internet. While people might say things online they would never do in person, all it takes is one person for digital conspiracies to take a deadly turn. That should be clear after the Capitol riot, which was largely organized online and resulted in five deaths.
Listening to the conspiracists — unfiltered and in their own voices — makes that digital conversation disturbingly real.
To participants, the channel is mainly a way to share and “fact-check” the news, cobbling theories together from fringe right-wing websites, posts on Facebook, and private channels on the messaging apps Telegram and Signal. They say their main focus is reinstituting paper ballots.
The most commonly used phrase is some version of “I heard,” followed by a theory:“There’s people that are actually sleeping inside that building to watch over the area, I guess. Um, I have no link to confirm this. Just from people that I’ve heard that should know what they’re telling me.”
“But if you look into it and read the post, it’s actual emails from Pence trying to get Trump out before he even won the election.”
“I just read somewhere that Biden just lowered the age of consent to age 8. Has anybody heard anything about that?”“You know, you laughed about Tupac and Biggie?
He was murdered, and I think it was the deep state that murdered him.”Sometimes the chat is lighthearted, like when supporters swap details about grocery runs or wish one other happy birthday. But the conversation can also turn dark, like when they speak longingly about “brutal” televised executions or simply ask, “Can the people declare war inside the country if they wanted to?”
Key to sustaining their beliefs is the expectation that the other shoe is always about to drop. One prediction, concerning “10 days of darkness,” was perpetually about to come true in the form of media blackouts, social media bans or power outages.
Nearly every day, there were signs that the “10 days of darkness” had begun in some form. Power outages in India and at the Vatican were possible signs. Then blackouts were reported across the world. Then state-of-emergency orders were circulated for various storms, recalling a Q catchphrase, “The storm is coming.”
“It’d be wise to stock up water, canned foods, ammo and cash, gasoline in your vehicles,” one said days after the Washington rally.
The Q delusion requires fitting unexpected events into a bigger narrative. The riot in Washington was one such opportunity. The day before, many in the chat room were worried about antifa attacking their friends. Yet it was also clear they wanted a confrontation.
“I wish they’d storm the Congress and the Senate and pull all them treasonous guys out of there.”
As the rally began, participants uploaded dispatches from the ground. The mood was positive, even emotional. In the chat, they shared their real-time reactions as Mr. Trump’s supporters stormed the Capitol.
“Patriots are in the building. It’s beautiful.”
And when Mr. Biden went on television to demand an end to the siege, one chatter asked, “Does he not realize President Trump called us to siege the place?”
Another remarked, “Honestly, I think the patriots should have been allowed to go in there, grab those S.O.B.s and pull them out of the building and, you know, have an execution right there.”
But by the next morning, members who had called for the siege had changed their tune. Now it was antifa that was responsible for the Capitol raid and any violence that followed.
Over and over again, confusing decisions, unexpected outcomes and a lack of evidence were recast as part of Mr. Trump’s master plan.
“I’m hoping that he was planning on antifa showing up there and doing what they did,” one woman said. “And he has a master plan behind that. I’m hoping.”
They believed Mr. Trump would use his Washington rally to announce mass arrests and release long-awaited evidence supporting Q’s theories. None of that happened.
Instead of coming to grips with that loss, they moved on to another idea: Mr. Trump needed to allow the vote to be certified to spot his enemies. He could use the Insurrection Act at any moment, putting America under martial law and using the military to seize control of the government.
“I am ready to see something go down. I want to know that this is all real, or we’ve just been being yanked around by a bunch of idiots sitting in their bedrooms, throwing all this fake information out there. I mean, I want to believe that Trump is holding all the cards, and that he’s just being deceitful right now so that he can nail everybody.”
They had been through this cycle so many times before, with promises of lawsuits that could overturn the election or a Supreme Court intervention that Mr. Trump had planned for months. None of it came to pass. Still, they had hope.
“It’s very hard to be patient ’cause we — you know, remember, we’re like, ‘Oh, the executive order,’ and ‘We’re waiting for D.N.I. report.’ We’re waiting for this, we’re waiting for that, that passed, and then Jan. 6, and that passed, and then … it’s hard, but we have to stay focused, and I think we’re so close. I mean, there’s just a couple of days left.”
As the inauguration approached, signs were adding up in their favor. Thousands of National Guard troops were deployed to the city, and many of them were deputized to perform arrests — surely a sign that Mr. Trump’s plan for martial law would come true.
Days went by, and nothing. Yet, as the inauguration drew closer, it was still raised as a possibility.“It’s taking longer than it should be, but possibly he could announce what he’s going to do next. We still have the Insurrection Act.”“If anything goes down, it’ll be today or Inauguration Day. I don’t think it would be Monday.”“If it does get signed, if the Insurrection Act gets signed, it’ll be today or tomorrow. Not a day later.”“The source I follow, I heard, said, Trump can file — or call martial law even up to five minutes before Biden’s inauguration if he has to.”“I think midnight — there’s going to be a lot of stuff happening.”
One member described her prediction in vivid detail: “His farewell speech is going to be, he declares martial law, and then as he’s doing that, they’re arresting the people, like Biden’s administration and all those corrupt suckers, and that’s why they have all the security around the White House, Capitol Hill area. And as they’re doing that, he’s going to read to us all the evidence, show us everything, and lay it all out right there.“
But when Jan. 20 came, Mr. Trump left the White House, rattled off some accomplishments, said, “Have a good life,” then boarded a jet to Mar-a-Lago. Mr. Biden was inaugurated. Nothing they predicted came true.
When Mr. Biden’s inauguration played out as normal, participants were frustrated. By rejecting mainstream news, they embraced liars who fed them exactly what they wanted to hear.
“We know not to watch CNN. We know not to watch these people. But when we have people that we trust on the right, and we’re pushing that information out — because we don’t have many media sources, so the ones that come out, they need to be pretty damn good. And for them to take advantage of people’s hope? We cannot have that.”
If the Q movement had a slogan, it would be “Do your research.” The conspiracy is designed like a game. Discovering clues that clarify Q’s cryptic missives produces a eureka effect, which offers a hit of dopamine and improves memory retention. It’s the same satisfaction that comes from solving a puzzle or finding the answer to a riddle.
Believers apply the same approach to everyday news: Find information that confirms any existing beliefs, then use it to augment their understanding of the conspiracy. Reject facts or information that counter the existing beliefs. It’s one of the reasons they struggle to recruit their family members, unless they’re persuaded to do research themselves.
I wondered what would happen in the days after Mr. Biden’s inauguration. Rather than re-evaluate their approach in the wake of Q’s failures, many doubled down. The problem wasn’t that the whole worldview was false, just that they had been led astray by inaccurate reports and misinterpretations. Their response was to improve their process. They would develop a list of sources, vet credentials, link to original material, and view unconfirmed information skeptically. They were, in a sense, inventing journalism.
Others made excuses. Theories spread that Q was actually part of a deep state plot to keep Mr. Trump’s supporters complacent. A few members tied Q’s strategy to a C.I.A. psychological operation. And if that was true, their prophets, like Q and Mr. Trump and major personalities in the community, weren’t everything they hoped they would be.
“By us believing that, you know, there’s all these things going on behind the scenes. It’s preventing us from doing anything because we’re just sitting down, waiting and watching for all this to secretly happen. And I don’t think it’s happening,” one said.
“We can’t be digital warriors our whole life. We can’t be keyboard warriors our whole life,” another said, recommending they focus on banking, education and passing real laws instead. He added: “We can’t put all our eggs in one basket like we’re doing and waiting on Trump. Our forefathers never relied on one man. We rely on each other going forward.”
If the current version of the Q conspiracy theory dissolves, what happens to its followers? They already found a community, and their friendships weathered Mr. Biden’s inauguration. If anything, their bonds have been strengthened. The channel was thriving, keeping hope alive for dozens of followers. Right-wing activists were organizing with fervor on Signal and Telegram. A few in the chat discussed plans to meet in person.
“It didn’t play out the way we wanted, but it showed that we can — we’re powerful when we’re together,” one said. “It’s created a whole new era. It’s not done. It’s far from over.”
After the inauguration, Ron Watkins, one of the main pushers of QAnon’s theories, who some suspect is actually Q, seemed to signal the end of the movement. In a message to followers, he focused on the strength of the community, writing, “As we enter into the next administration please remember all the friends and happy memories we made together over the past few years.”
The original version of the conspiracy seems in tatters, but the community is strong. And that will be harder to unravel.
“Trump has changed things forever. It’s a lot of seeds that he planted. And history is going to be very kind to him and the people that fought on the right side of the war.”
The article ends with a call for sympathy for these people because they are dealing with things and they feel alienated from both parties so they turn to Trump. I’m not quite as sanguine about giving them lots of hugs and more understanding. The whole world is in crisis because of the pandemic and these people have it better than most. They are not children. And I don’t think the answer is to treat them that way.
I think these people have agency and they enjoy the thought of executing politicians and killing their enemies — people like me. This cultish demonization of half the country combined with a clear bloodlust and weird lurid obsessions isn’t the equivalent of joining a weird religion that thinks the world is going to end on a particular day. It’s much more like the fantasies of Islamic jihad. They’re being radicalized online and are turning to violence — they’re even talking about beheadings.
The political and religious leadership that is allowing this to fester and grow are doing this for the most cynical of reasons. They don’t want to pay the price of facing the wrath of those who have been radicalized and misled. They are the ones who must be pressured to help break this fever. Donald Trump has lost his platform and if they would simply ignore him and move on, it would go a long way, I think. This will go on for a while but without the oxygen of Trump himself I think the bubble will start to dissipate.