Mass Delusion, Inc.
When instinct and groupthink become conspiracy
Some decades ago, someone died.
I can’t tell you much about the death, and even if I could, you’d find it unsatisfying. It’s an odd story where every theory feels fragile.
We’re not investigating this case in any real way. Our suspicions and theories carry no weight in any place that matters. If anything, it’s a lingering thought exercise for the team—something we revisit every few months when it whispers from the shadows to see if we’ve forgotten. (We haven’t.)
MJ and I found ourselves tangled in another winding conversation about it, and somewhere in the discussion, my brain began piecing it altogether differently—part Guess Who, part Clue. Someone, in some place, holding something. By the end, I’d built a compelling narrative in my mind.
Then, MJ ended a sentence with a casual, grounded, “But who knows?”
And I was reminded—
Not me.
I don’t know.
Nothing at all, really.
We hung up.
I paced my usual six to sixteen laps around the kitchen, replaying the conversation, parsing the pieces that needed absorbing. And again, I was struck by the story I’d written in my mind—the one where I’d decided who was guilty, how they did it, and why. No real evidence. Just threads I’d pulled together, twisting and looping into something that could be unwound just as easily.
The thing is, it could be compelling because there is something there—good enough suspicions. But aside from the allure of the unknown—and the simple, human urge to make the story work—there is nothing tangible.
Still, I was motivated to speculate, to ideate, and, on some level, to solve because we were there. Me and my colleague, shooting the shit, fancying ourselves a little intellectual, slightly experienced. It felt good to have an opinion, a tidy understanding.
How easily that feeling, tingling in my gut, rattling around in the caverns of my mind, could’ve led me to a theory that with just the right angle, the right details, could’ve been captivating and convincing.
Gut instinct can be a powerful tool. It helps us detect danger, assess situations quickly, and make snap judgments when time is short. But there's a fine line between instinct and bias—between an informed hunch and a misleading gut reaction. And online, where engagement thrives on certainty, that line is constantly blurred.
From Reddit detectives to TikTok truthers, the idea of collective investigations, collective intelligence, has never seemed more powerful—or more dangerous, as people interpret gut instinct as truth, and when that feeling is reinforced by thousands of others, a false narrative can emerge as a full-blown delusion.
So, what makes people feel absolutely certain, even when they’re wrong?
The Initial Spark
A crime, disappearance, or some other strange, maybe paranormal event captures public attention. The first wave of media reports offers fragmented, often contradictory details. In this vacuum, speculation thrives.
A single compelling theory emerges—usually one that plays into existing fears, biases, or cultural narratives.
Amateur sleuths, influencers, and even mainstream media latch onto the most sensational angles.
Early conjectures take root, forming the foundation for everything that follows.
The Gabby Petito case (2021) – In August 2021, 22-year-old Gabby Petito, an American travel vlogger, was killed by her fiancé Brian Laundrie.
Petito’s disappearance, as a young white woman active on social media, was the “perfect” case for a platform like TikTok. The internet was ablaze; the theories were inescapable. As the case unfolded, social media perusers consumed and consumed.
Many people had the right idea.
But with just a cursory scroll, you can find tens of far-flung theories with thousands upon thousands of likes and encouraging comments. One video featured songs added to Petito’s Spotify playlist shortly before her death. The lyrics in one of the songs led this TikTok creator to theorize that Petito herself was on the run after murdering her fiancé.
“I think it’s her. She did something bad and is hiding or he defended himself because she was attacking him and accidentally killed her. Idk man,” read a comment on the video—the comment received thousands of likes. Underneath that, people speculated further about this concept. Many advocated for the idea that this victim, who was already dead, was the mastermind of a Gone Girl-esque plot.
Another video discussed the concept of “retroactive abuse,” as if Petito had snapped and killed her abuser.
At that time, all anyone knew was that Petito had been reported missing by her family after embarking on a cross-country trip with Laundrie. But these comments discussed her and their relationship in the same way I might quietly discuss a best friend I’ve known for 23 years.
The Echo Chamber
As more people engage, confirmation bias takes over. Those who support the dominant theory find their beliefs reinforced, while dissenting voices are ignored, mocked, or attacked.
Social media algorithms amplify the most engaging content—often the most emotionally charged takes.
Alternate explanations, expert analyses, or official statements that contradict the preferred narrative are dismissed as part of a cover-up.
Online communities become insular, self-reinforcing spaces where doubt is treated as betrayal.
University of Idaho Killings (2022) - On November 13, 2022, four University of Idaho students were fatally stabbed in an off-campus residence. Suspect Bryan Christopher Kohberger was arrested on four counts of first-degree murder and one count of felony burglary. He awaits trial.
Violent, unexplainable murders, particularly involving young promising individuals, are, frankly, captivating. We crave understanding of the perverse, needing to assign reason.
Which might be how Rebecca Scofield found herself at the centre of a deranged shitstorm. Ashley Guillard, a TikTok creator, claimed that her tarot cards proved that Scofield, a University of Idaho professor, orchestrated the quadruple-murder to cover up an affair with a student. Not only was Scofield in Portland visiting friends with her husband when the homicides took place, she never taught or met any of the four victims. Even after sending cease and desist letters and contacting police, Guillard continued posting and perpetuating her theory.
Accusations like this ruin lives. This resulted in a tarnished reputation and months of expensive legal proceedings in federal court, including an attempt by Guillard to countersue Professor Scofield. She was not successful.
Misinformation Wildfire
Once an idea reaches critical mass, speculation transforms into "fact" in the public consciousness.
People mistake repetition for credibility—if they see a claim enough times, they assume it must be true.
Half-truths, misinterpretations, and outright fabrications blend together until they’re indistinguishable.
Influencers, journalists, and content creators amplify the narrative for engagement, further embedding falsehoods.
The Boston Marathon Bombing (2013) – While in college at Brown University, Sunil Tripathi struggled with depression. In mid-March, he went missing. Three weeks later, they still had no leads.
And then, The Boston Marathon Bombing happened.
When the FBI released photos of the suspects, a former classmate said on Twitter that she thought one of the suspects looked like Tripathi. The Tripathis' Facebook page for Sunil was bombarded with messages, many saying that he must be a Muslim terrorist.
Between 3 and 4 a.m. on April 19, Tripathi’s sister received 58 calls from the media. News vans lined up outside their home and reporters were knocking on their front door. Later that day, the FBI released the names of the actual suspects and Tripathi's name was never mentioned.
One week later, his body was found in a river. He had died by suicide a month before the marathon.
Real-World Impact
Digital "justice" almost always has unintended victims.
Innocent people are doxxed, harassed, and even threatened.
Official investigations are compromised when law enforcement has to address misinformation rather than follow credible leads.
The cycle continues until public interest fades or undeniable facts emerge—by then, the damage is already done.
The Texas School Shooting (2022) – The Uvalde school shooting was a mass shooting on May 24, 2022, at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas, where 18-year-old Salvador Ramos, a former student, fatally shot 19 students and 2 teachers, injuring 17 others.
Misinformation spread rapidly in the aftermath. Images of three separate trans women were shared online purporting to be of the gunman. The claims were widely circulated by right-wing US politicians and political influencers, most of whom had already broadly linked transgenderism to violence.
To debunk the theory, one of the women took a photo of herself standing in front of a transgender Pride flag on Reddit and wrote, “It’s not me, I don’t even live in Texas.” She said she just wants “to live without being attacked when I leave my house.”
Despite the fact that the posts including her photos violated Twitter and Facebook’s misinformation policies, the platforms did little to combat the emerging false narrative.
Counteracting Collective Delusion
Skepticism before amplification – Don't share claims without verification.
Listen to dissenting voices – Truth often lies in unpopular or less emotionally satisfying perspectives.
Understand cognitive biases – Being aware of psychological traps can make us less susceptible.
Hold platforms accountable – Demand that algorithms prioritize accuracy over engagement.
It’s natural to crave certainty. The human mind is wired to seek patterns, resolve mysteries, and find closure—especially in moments of fear, injustice, or ambiguity.
When official answers are slow or unsatisfying, conjecture fills the gap, offering the illusion of understanding. But speculation, no matter how compelling, is not the same as truth. Online investigations are not inherently harmful; in fact, digital sleuthing has helped solve cold cases, uncover corruption, and bring missing persons home. The difference between meaningful investigation and reckless accusation lies in discipline—the willingness to verify, to challenge assumptions, and to resist the intoxicating pull of collective certainty.
Because the question isn’t just who gets it wrong, but why we believe them in the first place.