Those in the know

Do you know someone who delights in contradicting common knowledge? “Well, actually,” he or she might say, “9/11 wasn’t really a terrorist operation.” Or, “Actually, European Jews aren’t related to Biblical Jews at all.” Or, “Actually, the so-called ‘Civil War’ had nothing to do with slavery.” We might call them revisionists or conspiracy theorists or contrarians or crackpots, to no avail. Any challenge is met with a smug nod or rueful head shake. There are none so blind as those who will not see.

The “Well, actually” crowd has its purveyors on both ends of the political spectrum, but lately the right has attracted more attention. One egregious example is Tucker Carlson, who now boasts the most listened-to podcast in the world, where he often showcases contrarian views. His favorable coverage of Vladimir Putin is one example. More recently the internet was buzzing about an interview with Darryl Cooper, whom Tucker billed as “the most important and honest popular historian working today.” “Popular” in the sense of nonacademic, for Cooper has written no books and has spoken in no academic forums. He’s a self-described nerd who produces multi-episode podcasts on current obsessions.

Their online conversation lasted two hours, over which time it became obvious that Cooper’s importance as a historian owes a lot to his elaboration of opinions Carlson already has—on Vladimir Putin, for example, who both men agreed is a “moderate” world leader, especially compared with Soviet dictators of old. But it was Cooper’s view of World War II, and particularly of Winston Churchill as chief villain of the conflict, that made the interview notorious. Not that Cooper seems to mind purveying “forbidden” opinions.

There’s not enough space in a single column to refute his claims, especially when plenty of qualified historians already have. Suffice it to say that Occam’s razor draws the cleanest lines. Of course the story is complicated, as are all stories involving real humans, but Cooper reached his conclusions by privileging some facts, ignoring others, and recycling actual Nazi propaganda.

Near the end of the interview he made an observation about the complexity of human motivation, or the “incentives that drive people that they’re not aware of.” Tucker ­nodded. “Boy, that is so true.”

And boy, that is just as true of the people who come to wildly contradictory conclusions about history. Cooper, and Carlson to a lesser extent, assume an almost godlike mastery of the truth. Actually, everything you’ve been told about that is a myth or a conspiracy. Actually, this is what happened, and only a few of us are brave enough to admit it.

In a lecture at King’s College in 1944, C.S. Lewis spoke to the assembly of young students about an incentive they might not be aware of. “I don’t believe that the economic motive and the erotic motive account for everything that goes on in what moralists call ‘the World.’” There was a motive far more pervasive and insidious. It was the gnostic attraction for hidden, even forbidden, knowledge; especially in perceiving the real movers and shakers in any context and, if possible, becoming part of that Inner Ring.

There are rings within rings, whether it’s cool kids in the school cafeteria or influencers in the White House. To recognize them is to be among the initiated; to be invited in is heaven-on-earth. You know the advantages, Lewis reminded his audience: not just power and money, but even more the license to break rules, scorn the uninitiated, and label all opposition as vindication. This form of pride corrodes the soul, and the bigger the platform, the greater the danger. “Of all the passions,” Lewis warned, “the passion for the Inner Ring is most skillful in making a man who is not yet a very bad man do very bad things.”

That’s not to say that revisionists like Darryl Cooper are bad men. But skewing historical examples of honor and courage (as leftist historians like Howard Zinn have done for decades) can be a very bad thing if it undermines confidence in what Lincoln called “the better angels of our nature”—such as those that defeated Hitler. Common knowledge can be wrong, and Jesus is nothing if not contrarian. But take Paul’s caution in 1 Corinthians 8:2 to heart: “If anyone imagines that he knows something, he does not yet know as he ought to know.”