There’s a Reason They’re Called Theories

Katherine J. Wu is a reporter covering science and health. She holds a Ph.D. in microbiology and immunobiology from Harvard University, so she oughta know. She writes in this morning’s New York Times, “There are 10 ingredients in Pfizer’s coronavirus vaccines. Contrary to several conspiracy theories circulating online, a tracking microchip planted by the government to surveil the movements of Americans is not among them. 

“For months, widely shared videos and viral posts on social media have baselessly claimed that such technologies could find their way into syringes delivering shots. None of the rumors are true.” 

Her goal is to demystify what, exactly, comprises the Pfizer vaccine, and to “track viral misinformation.” She concludes, “None of these ingredients contain or resemble microchips.” 

All I could think was … really? Really. 

I should have known. Really. Because I’ve spent more than my fair share of time speaking to clients about conspiracy theories and the coronavirus vaccine. You know, Beloved, there’s a reason these nightmare fantasies are called “theories.” At the risk of stating the obvious, theories are different from facts because that’s what they’re designed to be. 

Here’s Google’s take on it: “Theories are formulated to explain, predict, and understand phenomena and, in many cases, to challenge and extend existing knowledge within the limits of critical bounding assumptions. The theoretical framework is the structure that can hold or support a theory of a research study.” 

Once more, theories are not facts. They’re used to test facts, Beloved. 

So why am I spending valuable counseling time discussing conspiracy theories with my clients? 

Well, as one of them said to me, “This is taking up way too much space in my head.” 

There have been many, many media comments lately of the Woe-is-I, Alas, Alack School of Journalism lamenting that U.S. society is so polarized that we can’t even agree on the facts. Most of the comments have been segue ways and throw-aways to get from Journalistic Point A to Journalistic Point B. This morning I want to stop in the Can’t-Even-Agree-on-the-Facts Zone, and stay there for a little while. 

My client with the too-full head-space was suffering the effects of two respected colleagues and friends—and their dastardly, fearful theories about the coronavirus vaccine. She didn’t know what to make of their ideas, and she was tired of interacting with them about their ideas. 

Back to the Zone-In-Between. One of the gifts of the pandemic, Beloved, has been to point out, underscore, italicize, all-cap, bold, and exclamation point this inability to agree on the facts. It’s the same argument humans have been having for millennia. Consider Galileo and the then-Pope. 

If we slow things down a bit, you’ll agree with me that humans have two directions available to us on the fact front. We can look outside ourselves—which is what most of us do when we don’t know or aren’t sure. We can also look within. In other frameworks, we can look left or right, in front or behind, to the past or the future. Regardless of the model you choose, the choice is only ever binary. (And, yes, we can combine them, but that’s another essay.) 

My client was looking outside herself and finding confusion. I suggested she look within—to figure out what was the best course for her single-mom self and her 11-year-old. Where she lives—outside the U.S.—the number one priority is to keep schools open. In order to do that, teachers, staff, kids, and parents need to be vaccinated. Period. The mental yammering of her friends’ conspiracy theories faded away, and she knew instantly what she would do when the vaccine was offered to her. 

What changed? Her perspective. Was something added? Yes. Was something subtracted? Yes. As I wrote in Tao for Now, “The smartest add something every day. / The Wisest subtract something every day.” 

When external information is conflicting or confusing, Beloved, be wise, subtract it, and turn within. Don’t, as was my client’s original intent, look for more from outside you as she did by asking me. 

Turn within. Which is what she did. And there she found her smart answer because she added something vital—the thing that has so often been missing in our world lately. Care, or, if you like, connection.  

She, like so many parents, prioritizes her son. The moment that care was in view, the decision for the vaccine became clear. Of course, they’ll take it. 

Now I have a further suggestion to make that will probably startle some of you. What if those of us who can stay home for the foreseeable future opt not to take it till there’s more of it, and leave what we do have for those who must go out into the world? And what if we do that in service to the common good? 

I don’t have a sixth-grader in my home. I work at home. I share my home with one other adult. I go out, but not often, because I don’t need to. Why not make the choice, in that case, to wait? Which is what I’ve decided. Because I care for my siblings in this world. That answer came from within. 

The Commonwealth of Massachusetts is prioritizing those in prisons and jails with their allotment of vaccine after frontline healthcare workers. That makes sense to me—communal living must take priority over many others who are far safer. I applaud their decision because it shows care. 

Care, connection, even love, if you will, goes a long, long way, Beloved, toward silencing the theorists for a simple reason. It prioritizes what we value. Without knowing what we value, it’s almost impossible to make choices of any kind.  

Paul Klee was a painter (18th December 1879-1940.) These words he wrote about art set a gong thrumming in my heart. He wrote, “Art should be like a holiday: something to give a man the opportunity to see things differently and to change his point of view.”  

My paraphrase goes like this, Care should be like a holiday from the nattering naysayers of the world: something to give a person the opportunity to see things differently and to change their point of view. 

Once you have what you care deeply about in your sights, Beloved, don’t turn anywhere. Make your choices based on that. Perhaps if we all do this, we will come out of the confusion about facts, and live instead, based on Truth. 

Dr. Susan Corso is a spiritual teacher, the founder of iAmpersand, and the author of The Mex Mysteries, the Boots & Boas Books, and spiritual nonfiction. Her essays address the intersection of spirituality and culture. Her website is susancorso.com.