In early March 2020, when the United States was just recognizing the seriousness of the COVID-19 pandemic, I got a text from my college-aged son late one night. At its core was a rumor that America was about to undergo martial law, thus allowing military decisions to take the place of existing laws. My son told me that he heard it from a friend he’s known since kindergarten. My son’s friend said the alert came to him from his dad, who is a firefighter and first responder. The first part of the text I got indicated that the National Guard, the U.S. military, and all first responders were going to be deployed to help enforce the quarantine. After reading only a few lines, I immediately forwarded it to my sister.
My sister actually read the entire text. Then she got online and did some simple and fast fact checking. Within minutes, she texted me a refutation of the martial law rumor. Immediately, I slapped my forehead with my palm: What had I been thinking—or not thinking—by forwarding that text without reading it entirely or checking it out? To make matters worse, I am a folklorist who has studied legends and rumors for decades. I should have known better. However, in the spirit of Skeptical Inquirer’s Harriet Hall (2019), I knew that I could learn something worthwhile from my error. I decided to review the experience and “reassess my priors,” to borrow an expression statisticians use to describe the logical process of reevaluating a prior assertion. This phrase has the added benefit of sounding a whole lot better than, “Yeah, I screwed up.” Whether we call it “reassessing our priors” or “owning our screw-ups,” interrogating them without mistake shaming can open a path to enlightenment. It did for me.
As I thought about why I responded to the martial law text with more credulity than was typical for me, I realized I had been in the perfect, textbook situation to be suckered by a rumor. First, when I got the text, I was under a great deal of stress because I was trying to figure out how to respond to the rapidly changing circumstances of the first global pandemic in my lifetime. Second, the text came from a trusted family member, my son. Third, it was late at night, and I was tired. Finally, I was trying to assess risk and figure out what safety measures to take without nearly enough information. At that time, I didn’t know exactly how much of a threat the disease posed or how it spread. Every aspect of my daily life had suddenly and dramatically changed. I was wrestling with questions, including, “Do I need to quarantine the mail? Should I swab down my groceries with Clorox wipes? How contagious is the virus? How sick will it make people?” Like all Americans, I was facing shortages of disinfectant wipes, toilet paper, flour, and yeast. I was beginning to wonder if I had to worry about the U.S. food supply chain getting disrupted. Also, when I got the text, I had just read the news that California counties in the Bay area were under “shelter in place” orders. So, I did what a lot of Americans do: I decided to “share the scare” with someone I loved, to borrow a phrase from Benjamin Radford (2021a).
I also realized that, to my credit, when I’m less sleep deprived and less worried about contagion, illness, and toilet paper, I’m typically quick to spot rumors and conspiracy theories—as are skeptics and my colleagues who study these types of narratives. So, an important question to ask was, “What was I doing right in all those other situations when I quickly realized I was dealing with a rumor or conspiracy theory?” My years as a folklore scholar meant that I was attuned to their patterns. For example, I could easily identify when old patterns were repeated, such as when anti-Semitic blood libel rumors and legends were recycled during the Satanic Panics of the 1980s and 1990s—and then again when those same narratives got dredged up with a little variation and incorporated into the contemporary QAnon conspiracy theories.
I realized that clearly articulating even a few of the patterns that frequently signaled a legend, rumor, or conspiracy theory could be useful for people who don’t study these genres professionally. I wanted to help us all quickly identify an unverified account when we encounter it in our everyday lives. This is a desperately needed skill in the face of the pandemic proliferation of misinformation, rumor, and conspiracy theories. The process needs to be simple and easy to remember, so people can apply it in real time when they encounter these narratives.
The SLAP Test
To discern the patterns that signal an unverified account, I reviewed over fifty years of legend, rumor, and conspiracy theory research. I also did a pattern analysis of over 100 legends. What emerged from this process is what I call the SLAP Test. SLAP is an acronym for Scare or Shock, Logistics, A-List, and Prejudice. Using this simple test can help someone quickly assess how much they should trust a story’s veracity. The acronym is intended to be sticky; people can’t use a tool they can’t remember. This test is something we can all use to SLAP some sense into ourselves when it comes to conspiracy theories and the choking algal bloom of questionable narratives fueled by the coronavirus pandemic.
The SLAP Test consists of four simple questions:
- Does the account attempt to scare or shock? If the answer is yes, be wary.
- Does the account rely on complicated or far-fetched logistics? If the answer is yes, be wary.
- Does the account involve A-listers—famous people, products, or events? If the answer is yes, be wary.
- Does the account demonstrate prejudice; that is, does it demonize or portray a person or group as “other”? If the answer is yes, be wary.
“Yes” answers should make our personal BS detectors go off like the loudest alarm on our cell phones. Once this happens, some quick online research can help us further assess the account. Here, it’s important to keep in mind that what some person says on a message board does not constitute “research.” Research, of course, is vetted information that is supported with evidence. Reliable fact-checking sites on the internet provide this kind of information; examples include Leadstories.com and FactCheck.org. The SLAP Test can help us process the fire hose of misinformation that is today’s internet. It can give us the time we need to slow down and think before we obey the implied imperative (Believe this! Share this! Do something! Buy my supplements!) that conspiracy theories often push.
Research indicates that getting in arguments with friends and family about conspiracy theories doesn’t work (Bodner et al. 2020). We will always have hardcore conspiracy theorists and true believers. No amount of SLAPping will get through to them. However, it can help the rest of us, such as a young woman I talked with at a beauty salon. She asked me what I did for a living, and I told her I was a folklorist who studied legends, rumors, and conspiracy theories. She said, “Oh, I love conspiracy theories!” She told me that she and her family liked to watch conspiracy-based shows on Netflix and then discuss them. I replied, “Conspiracy theories are really interesting, aren’t they? Tell me about one that intrigues you.” She then mentioned the conspiracy theories positing that George W. Bush was behind the September 11, 2001, attacks.
I listened and didn’t say anything. When she was done, I asked her, “Would you like an easy tool that helps you decide which conspiracy theories are probably true and which ones are probably false?” She said yes. By this time, all the other salon customers in the room were also listening to our conversation. I quickly laid out the SLAP Test and asked her what happened when she applied it to her favorite conspiracy theories. I could see she was thinking and SLAPping the stories. Soon she started laughing and said, “Well, I should be wary of them all!” Then, to my delight, she went on to provide more analysis of her own of the stories. “You know,” she said, “What I always wonder is why do people believe just one person who shares these conspiracies?”
The young woman in the beauty salon deserves a lot of credit for being open-minded and willing to analyze the conspiracy theories that she liked. When she told me she enjoyed conspiracy theories, I was careful not to shame her for that. I also didn’t talk too much; I listened. When I did converse with her, I tried to avoid conveying sentiments such as, “Beware! Conspiracy theories are evil! Why on earth would you believe that junk?!” Again, such an approach is usually not persuasive (Radford 2021b). Instead, I hoped to communicate to her that she could still enjoy the conspiracy theories while quickly assessing their likely veracity—a process that also encourages further engagement with the narratives and can even add to their fun and intrigue. The SLAP Test didn’t take away or stigmatize a source of narrative pleasure for her and her family. Instead, it gave her a tool to do more thinking about stories she already relished.
Scholars and skeptics are sometimes criticized for coming across as grumpy, pleasure-killing scolds. The SLAP Test allows for a more exploratory, even playful, frame. It also provides a way for people to uncover truth for themselves. Instead of getting into pointless arguments about rumors and conspiracy theories, using the test is a way that we can all SLAP unverified stories—and not our friends and family members.
References
Bodner, John, Wendy Welch, Ian Brodie, et al. 2020. Covid-19 Conspiracy Theories: QAnon, 5G, the New World Order and Other Viral Ideas. Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company.
Hall, Harriet. 2019. I was wrong (and I bet you were too). Skeptical Inquirer Online (July 9). Available online at https://skepticalinquirer.org/exclusive/i-was-wrong-and-i-bet-you-were-too/.
Radford, Benjamin. 2021a. Squaring the Strange, Episode 144 (March 19). Podcast audio. Available online at https://squaringthestrange.libsyn.com/episode-144-prof-jeannie-banks-thomas-and-the-slap-test.
———. 2021b. Roots of and responses to COVID-19 vaccination hesitancy. Center for Inquiry blog (April 2). Available online at https://centerforinquiry.org/blog/roots-of-and-responses-to-covid-19-vaccination-hesitancy/.