Nothing to See Here: Johnston

 

Sensible people do not believe in conspiracy theories. “Conspiracy theory” has become a decisive put-down in any argument.

Which ought to make us suspicious. If there were conspiracies afoot, this would be the ideal way to protect them, wouldn’t it? By ruling the possibility out of consideration. Perhaps we should suspect anyone who dismisses conspiracy theories.

I used to accept the logic that any widespread conspiracy was unlikely to succeed. The reasoning is that, if many people are involved, the odds of someone blowing the whistle go up exponentially. As the conspiracy continues over a longer period, the odds of someone blowing the whistle go up. And, I might add, the more nefarious the activity, the greater the likelihood that somebody’s conscience is going to become unbearable.

The Protocols of the Elders of Zion is probably the most famous discredited conspiracy theory. But the example is ambiguous. If the claim of an International Jewish Conspiracy was false, there was a conspiracy by some group to propagate this forgery. Nobody knows who was actually behind the Protocols—nobody talked. A successful and enduring conspiracy.

Conspiracy theories were also more common before Oliver Stone’s film JFK. Intentionally or not, Stone seems to have killed the whole notion of conspiracies by advocating a particularly improbable conspiracy in that film.

Yet more recently, the idea of a conspiracy to assassinate Kennedy has begun to look more credible again. We see how the intelligence establishment colluded to subvert Trump—why not Kennedy? RFK Jr. reveals that his father assumed the death was the work of the CIA. And, as Attorney-General, RFK Sr. was in a position to know more than we.

We have seen a good many real conspiracies uncovered, too, in recent years: the conspiracy to suppress knowledge of Hunter Biden’s laptop; the conspiracy to tie Trump to Russian collusion; the conspiracy to suppress problems with the Covid vaccines; denial of the Wuhan lab leak and of gain-of-function research; Cardinal McCarrick’s gay mafia within the Catholic Church; Jeffrey Epstein’s Lolita Island. We know the Chinese government has been trying to subvert Canadian elections, and American congressmen have been sleeping with Chinese spies. 

There has to be a flaw in the argument against conspiracy theories; and I now think I see it. Yes, a whistleblower is likely. But how likely is he to be believed? 

In Wiesel’s Night, Moishe the Beadle returns to their Transylvanian village near the end of the Second World War, within sight of the end of the Nazi regime, with news of mass executions of Jews, from which he himself barely escaped. And nobody believes it. In 1944, among European Jews, no one believes it.

“But people not only refused to believe his tales, they refused to listen. Some even insinuated that he only wanted their pity, that he was imagining things. Others flatly said that he had gone mad.”

We need to factor in the human instinct for denial. The more disturbing the news of the conspiracy, the less likely people are to believe it, so long as denial is possible, and perhaps beyond. Because thinking of it is disturbing.

Nobody will touch the topic of Epstein’s death; nobody is demanding the client list. Nobody gets to see the manifesto from the Nashville shooter. There were whistles blown on McCarrick; they were ignored. YouTube still censors any suggestion that the Covid vaccines were not safe and effective; and there is no pushback from the media. Eric Swalwell continued on the House Intelligence Committee, after his affair with sa Chinese spy was known. A paper from Thailand pointed out the almost certainly synthetic origin of the Covid virus only months after it appeared; it was discounted and scorned. It was fairly obvious to any alert reader from the beginning that the Trump Russian collusion hoax was a hoax, and that Hunter Biden’s laptop was real. But the media went along and did not challenge “the narrative.” Not, I think, because the entire media is part of some vast conspiracy, but from simple denial. You don’t want to believe the people in charge are baddies.

Which brings us to a few unanswered questions about current Canadian politics. 

Why did David Johnston agree to be Justin Trudeau’s “special rapporteur” on Chinese interference? In doing so, and in then not calling for a public inquiry, he is risking destroying what was a sterling public reputation, perhaps destroying his place in history. 

Everyone says he is a fine and upright person. Everyone also says he should never have agreed to take this job, due to apparent conflict of interest. Everyone also says that, having taken it, he had no choice but to call for a public enquiry.

So how to account for his actions? Why is he throwing away a lifetime’s work to protect Justin Trudeau?

People suggest it is because he is buddies with Trudeau. But the self-harm involved seems to go beyond what friendship could expect; indeed, if Trudeau were his friend, he would not ask him to do it.

His path in turn eerily parallels that of Judge Rouleau before him; and several other Trudeau-appointed ethics investigators; as if this is all predetermined.

Why is Jagmeet Singh supporting Trudeau and keeping him safely in power, in the face of successive scandals? It seems obviously destructive to his party’s fortunes, and to his own. He is lashing his fortunes to those of a party almost inevitably near the end of its tenure, and eliminating his party as an alternative; like a rat boarding a sinking ship. Indeed, why did he publicly sign on in the immediate wake of the Emergency Act, when Trudeau looked vulnerable, as if rallying to his side?

Wait; don’t leave out the Conservatives. Why, after seeming to show initial interest, and seeing a groundswell of support, did Pierre Poilievre, Jean Charest, Candice Bergen, and Rona Ambrose all back out of running for the leadership in 2020, within a couple of weeks of one another? Any of the three could probably have won against O’Toole or McKay. And no one can say neither Poilievre or Charest were interested in the job: they ran two years later.

The simplest explanation is that there is some conspiracy afoot. And I see how it could work.

Stanley Kubrick warned us of Hellfire Clubs among the rich and powerful in Eyes Wide Shut—before dying in post-production, like one character in the film who blew the whistle. Epstein and McCarrick have demonstrated that such Hellfire Clubs are indeed currently in operation in the US. Once a member has been brought in, through the attraction of free unorthodox sex or some other illegal activity, he can be blackmailed. So everyone is kept in line. 

Francis Dashwood, reputed founder of the original Hellfire Club

If, on the other hand, you will not buy in, the club will close ranks to do what it can to keep you out of power.

The tactic is obvious, and likely to be effective. 

David Johnston did not kill himself.