Almost a decade after QAnon theories took over alt-right online communities, some families are still recovering from the damage it has caused.
It was an early New Mexico morning in the autumn of 2020 when Lori, 42, woke up to a panicked call from her brother. People were coming after him, he told her, people who wanted him dead.
Lori was confused. They hadn’t talked since an argument about politics a few years back. But Jerry (not his real name) and his racist ex-girlfriend had finally ended their relationship. Lori thought this would help him see how ignorant his beliefs had become.
She pressed him to find out who these headhunters were: “He told me that he had outed a Satanic child trafficking, baby-eating group of Democrats online, so now they were coming for him.”
Lori had laughed in relief. She’d heard these ridiculous QAnon theories before. But her relief quickly turned to disgust and then finally to anger.
In the span of one phone call, Jerry had told her the Black Lives Matter movement was evil, that Hitler ‘wasn’t that bad,’ and that women shouldn’t be able to vote. She hung up. They haven’t talked since.
Late in 2017, an anonymous ‘whistleblower’, who goes by ‘Q’, posted some cryptic messages on the infamous imageboard, 4chan. They claimed to be a U.S. government insider with access to top-secret intel.
According to Q, the government is overrun by Satan-worshipping pedophiles who are operating a global trafficking operation. And the hero, the man armed to free the American people from these corrupt villains, is Donald J. Trump.
QAnon is an especially difficult theory to challenge because it relies heavily on an “us versus them” mentality. Followers of Q are taught to fight against anything that opposes their beliefs.
During the phone call with Lori, Jerry quickly became defensive and suspicious of her when she told him they were just empty conspiracy theories. For loved ones of Q believers, any attempt at reason is met with hostility.
“If a conversation starts to escalate, let them have their say and don’t respond further.”
James
The hardest part for Lori has been just how much her brother’s spiral affected her emotionally. Although Jerry is still alive — she checks his Facebook from time to time to make sure — to Lori, a version of him is already dead.
She grieves for the brother she grew up with — the nature-loving hippie who believed in equality for all. What started as a shared mutual interest in popular conspiracy theories and a general critical attitude towards the government transformed into baseless and bigoted beliefs as her brother was radicalised online right before her eyes.
There’s been plenty of talk about how to behave around your Q-brained loved one. Political scientist and conspiracy theory expert Dannagal Young believes unconditional love is the best response to Q family members.
She encourages approaching them with caution and not using snark or mockery to address their beliefs. Although many of those affected by Q family members want accountability, Young warns that we shouldn’t expect it until years later.
But the patience and resilience needed take their toll on the loved ones left to pick up the pieces. For Elizabeth, 24, it has caused a cycle of depression and anger. Sharing a house with someone who holds such bigoted beliefs has put a strain on her mental health. Something as simple as sharing her enjoyment of Taylor Swift will set her older brother Ricky off.
“He really gets going on the fact that she’s over 30 and doesn’t have a family […] and this usually turns into ‘the feminist movement was a Jewish psyop led to destabilise families’ or something stupid.”
After Ricky fell into the Q rabbit hole during the 2020 lockdown, life at home became miserable for Elizabeth.
Psychology Today offers another take: It’s important to reason with QAnon believers. They are victims of a predatory theory that thrives because of growing distrust in the U.S. government.
But the mental toll this takes on loved ones cannot, and should not, be understated. When bringing up something as trivial as a musician one enjoys unleashes an anti-Semitic rant, how can you feel at peace in your own home?
“He told me that he had outed a Satanic child trafficking, baby-eating group of Democrats online, so now they were coming for him.”
Lori
James, 24, from Kentucky, says it’s all about boundaries. He still lives with his parents, who fell into Q back in 2018. As victims of financial hardship all their lives, James’ parents were drawn to Trump as a saviour figure.
So when an anonymous 4chan user confirmed what they already believed to be true, they were poised to completely sink into the conspiracy theory world. With the advice of his therapist, James has learned how to co-exist with his parents with minimal friction.
“You just need to know your boundaries […] if a conversation starts to escalate, let them have their say and don’t respond further.”
Dr. Kristen Beesley and Prof. Gary Drevitch of Psychology Today back the advice from James’s therapist. They support protecting yourself emotionally by learning to recognise responses rooted in adamant denial and projection.
When conspiracy-sick family members begin to use harmful language, remember that they belong to a belief system that encourages them to question every opposing voice.
It’s almost instinct to put your mental health in the backseat when dealing with a Q family member. You want to save the people you love from this dangerous mindset.
But more than five years since the storming of the Capitol and almost ten years since QAnon began, it’s time to reflect: at what point will you draw the line?
Featured image by Louis Velazquez via Unsplash.