FEAR-GRIP

Continuing yesterday's thread.

Imagine a situation where an ambitious far-right leader spots an opportunity in an otherwise mundane piece of news – say, an increase in food prices linked to climate change. This leader seizes the moment, spinning a tale of a shadowy, foreign-backed conspiracy to "control food supplies and starve native populations." They don't bother with credible evidence – a few cherry-picked headlines, a misleading graph or two, and ominous warnings about "dark forces" suffices. "Just asking the question," is a well-used refrain for those wishing to stir up disorder.

The phrase "I’m only asking the question" is a sly psychological tactic designed to sow doubt while shielding the speaker from accountability. It pretends to be neutral, but its true purpose is to plant an idea in the listener’s mind – one often rooted in insinuation or distrust. By framing a claim as a mere question, the speaker avoids outright lying or making a provable statement, instead inviting others to connect the dots themselves. This creates a nagging sense of uncertainty, even when the "question" has no basis in fact. The tactic is well understood in psychological and political circles, as it exploits a cognitive bias where people unconsciously associate the question with the possibility of truth. It’s the hallmark of conspiracy theorists and manipulators, a subtle nudge that leaves the listener wondering, "What if?" while the instigator steps back with faux innocence. Farage has used it to great effect.

The campaign begins with social media – the perfect breeding ground for outrage and misinformation. "Have you noticed the price of bread lately?" they might post. "It's not inflation – it's infiltration! Globalists are in league with foreign powers to destroy our way of life! Wake up!"

Soon, useful idiots latch onto the narrative. Amateur sleuths on TikTok, the bloke in the pub, and your Aunt Carol on Facebook start sharing "proof" – dubious screenshots, out-of-context quotes, and poorly edited videos. The far-right leader and his client press fan the flames, positioning himself (or herself) as the only person willing to tell the "truth."

Naturally, the government, economists, and food industry experts dismiss the claims as nonsense. This is perfect for the far-right leaders. "They're covering it up!" they bellow, pointing at anyone who questions them as a collaborator in the grand conspiracy. "The establishment doesn’t want you to know because they are the establishment!"

The outrage grows, and people start demanding action. The far-right leader steps up their rhetoric, declaring, "We need to be ruthless. These conspirators must be stopped at any cost – or there won’t be a country left to save." Calls for extreme measures, like strict border controls, mass deportations, or bans on imports from certain countries, are met with uncritical, mindless cheers from their base.

The movement swells, gaining votes. Suddenly, they’re in power – "for the people," of course. They waste no time introducing "emergency measures." The judiciary, a counter-majoritarian institution, will be argued as an obstacle to swift action. "We can't have unelected judges hampering our efforts to save the nation," they declare. Laws are passed to restrict the judiciary's power, and opposition politicians find themselves under investigation for alleged ties to the fabricated conspiracy.

Then come the elections – or rather, the suspension of them. "We can’t afford the distraction of elections during a national emergency," the leader announces. Their supporters cheer mindlessly, again. Critics are silenced, arrested, or forced into exile. The machinery of democracy grinds to a halt, all in the name of "saving the nation."

By the time the public realises the danger was never real, it’s too late. The far-right leader has solidified their grip on power, and any dissent is ruthlessly crushed.

This sequence, while hypothetical, mirrors historical tactics used by authoritarian regimes to manufacture crises, manipulate fear, and consolidate power. It serves as a stark warning of how easily democratic systems can be subverted when outrage and misinformation are weaponised and put in the hands of useful idiots.

A useful mnemonic for this process is FEAR-GRIP. It's a compound noun that accurately describes a feeling, but the letters themselves can be used to spell out the process as harnessed by populists. 

• Fabricate a threat – Invent a danger that feels plausible, leveraging public fears or current events. 
• Engage outrage – Use social media to spread the narrative and stir anger. 
• Amplify with allies – Encourage "useful idiots" to share and expand the story. 
• Rebuke the truth – Dismiss evidence and accuse those in power of a cover-up. 
• Garner support – Position yourself as the only solution and gain votes by promising action. 
• Restrict opposition – Undermine the judiciary or legal systems that could challenge you. 
• Introduce "emergency" powers – Justify extreme measures as necessary to address the fabricated crisis. 
• Perpetuate control – Suspend elections and consolidate power under the guise of protecting the nation. 

"FEAR-GRIP" captures the cyclical, manipulative nature of this method – using fear to tighten a political stranglehold. 

The best way to counter these fabricated dangers is to shine a big, bright spotlight on them – expose the lies, the motives, and the absurdity behind the fear-mongering. Misinformation thrives in the dark, so factual debunking, clear evidence, and a bit of good old-fashioned ridicule can do wonders. Show people where these narratives come from and why they’re being peddled – usually by opportunists looking to score a bit of power or cash. At the same time, arm the public with the tools to see through the nonsense. Media literacy – knowing how to sniff out a dodgy claim or a sensationalist headline – is the first line of defence.

But it’s not enough to just say “that’s rubbish” and move on. You’ve got to address the real concerns lurking underneath the hysteria. People fall for this rot because they’re scared – scared about jobs, housing, or their future. So, tackle those fears head-on. Create spaces where people can talk without being shouted down, and encourage unity over division. Governments, meanwhile, need to grow a backbone – be transparent, communicate clearly, and avoid the temptation to play along with the outrage brigade. And for heaven’s sake, protect our institutions – once the judiciary or elections start getting tampered with, it’s a slippery slope to authoritarianism.

Addressing false concerns can work as a strategy if you focus on the real anxieties driving them – such as economic insecurity or poor public services – without validating the fabricated danger itself. People latch onto false narratives because they feel ignored, so acknowledging their fears and offering practical solutions can build trust and defuse tension. However, engaging too directly with the falsehood risks legitimising it or giving it more attention. The best approach is to tackle the underlying issues while reframing the conversation around facts and real challenges, avoiding any unnecessary oxygen for the fabrication itself. It’s a delicate balance but can be effective if handled carefully.

Post-truth populism thrives on the notion of representing "the people," but this is a carefully curated illusion. The term "the people" is never an inclusive or universal concept in their rhetoric. Instead, it refers to a selective, often exclusionary group that aligns with the populist's agenda. The so-called enemies of "the people" – usually scapegoated minorities, intellectuals, or political opponents – are cast as threats to this narrow definition of society, fuelling division and distrust. Far from serving the interests of all citizens, post-truth populists work to erode solidarity, fragmenting communities and sowing discord.

Solidarity, in the populist worldview, is not about unity or collective well-being. It is aggressively anti-solidarity in a broader sense, rejecting the idea of shared humanity or common purpose across diverse groups. Their version of solidarity is tribal, thick in its allegiance to the in-group but brittle and exclusive. Those who fall outside this group – whether because of race, religion, class, or ideology – are vilified and dehumanised. This strategy ensures the perpetuation of an "us versus them" narrative, which keeps the populist's followers focused on an external enemy rather than questioning the failures or corruption within.

The "outsider" is a vital construct in populist rhetoric, serving as a scapegoat for societal grievances. These outsiders are deliberately portrayed as powerful, malevolent forces, often with exaggerated or entirely fabricated influence. This magical thinking attributes almost supernatural abilities to the outsider – from controlling the economy to undermining cultural values – stoking fear and resentment among the in-group. The outsider's perceived power is deliberately inflated to justify increasingly draconian measures, stripping away rights and freedoms in the name of protecting "the people."

Populist solidarity is thick, as it is deeply rooted in a narrow, often identity-based allegiance. However, it is not wide or inclusive. It draws sharp boundaries between who belongs and who does not, fostering an exclusionary mindset that undermines broader societal cohesion. While traditional solidarity seeks to build bridges across divides, populist solidarity erects walls. It is built on fear, mistrust, and division, ensuring that the focus remains on external threats rather than internal inequalities or systemic failures.

In this way, post-truth populism becomes a self-perpetuating cycle. By claiming to speak "for the people" while simultaneously fracturing society, it creates a feedback loop of fear, exclusion, and misplaced loyalty that keeps the populist in power while undermining the very fabric of democracy and shared citizenship.

Rather a long diatribe; however, there will be final post, following this narrative, tomorrow.

Just a quick aside, while I remember it, but I was listening to a Trump supporter yesterday opining that; "Trump is going after the criminals - next he'll go against the non-criminals." The speaker was oblivious to the nonsense he was speaking, but he said this as Trump released 1,500 actual criminals for storming the Capitol and trying to overthrow the government. Strangely, Trump didn't pardon the main ringleaders, merely commuting their sentences. 

This selective clemency raises questions about his conviction in the "stolen election" narrative. On the one hand, pardoning the rank-and-file participants signals support for his loyal base, portraying them as wronged patriots who acted in defence of democracy. On the other hand, refusing to fully pardon the ringleaders, leaving their convictions intact, suggests a reluctance to completely align himself with their actions and rhetoric.

It implies a degree of strategic ambivalence. By commuting sentences rather than issuing full pardons, Trump distances himself from outright endorsing the insurrection while still appeasing his supporters. It hints that his belief in the election being "stolen" might not be as steadfast as his public statements suggest. Instead, this approach appears politically calculated – offering just enough support to retain his base without fully tying himself to the most extreme elements of their actions.

This half-measure clemency undermines the idea of unwavering belief in the righteousness of their cause. If Trump truly viewed the insurrection as justified, a blanket pardon would seem more in line with his rhetoric. Instead, the move appears more about optics and self-preservation than principle, raising doubts about the sincerity of his claims regarding the 2020 election.

That was a rather long aside.....

However, here's another aside - I think Trump will have to create a new dictionary, as he clearly does not understand the meaning of the terms 'gender' or 'criminal'. What would he call such a tome? The "Patriot's Lexicon" – because nothing says 'anti-woke' like wrapping it in the flag and a sprinkle of nationalism. Or perhaps the "Truth-tionary," where truth means whatever suits the moment. It might even go full-on absurd and be called "The Real Words," implying that the OED and Merriam-Webster was part of some woke conspiracy all along.

Perhaps he'll ban gender neutral nouns......

Oh, and Musk didn't do a Nazi salute - he was pointing to Mars.....

OK, OK, I'm off.