illustration by Hyein Lee
There’s a blizzard outside, but over
half of the chairs inside this Queen Street West store are full.
The store isn’t just any store in downtown Toronto;
it’s Conspiracy Culture, or what co-owner Patrick Whyte
calls a “taboo, magic happy place” for people
who are interested in everything from alien phenomena to
political conspiracies. And the crowd isn’t here to see
just anyone—they’ve come partly to hear the
latest news on the 9/11 Truth movement and partly to see the man
delivering it. Barrie Zwicker is the leading 9/11
“Truther,” an activist, a media critic, and,
as the popular media likes to refer to him, a conspiracy
theorist.
“Who knows? Maybe
I’m just a paranoid schizophrenic,” Zwicker
jokes with the audience. But he isn’t mentally
ill—before all else, he’s a journalist. Apart
from working for TheGlobe and
Mail,Toronto Star,
Vancouver Province, CBC and Vision TV,
Zwicker spent seven years teaching journalism at Ryerson
University. It figures, considering he reminds me of nearly every
journalism instructor I’ve ever
encountered—captivating, but a little eccentric, with
the propensity to become overwhelmed and sidetracked easily. By
the end of his presentation, he’s mopping his brow with
a handkerchief and his forehead has turned a shade of red.
It’s only too easy to envision him in front of a
classroom of students.
Tonight though, the
seats at Conspiracy Culture are filled with Zwicker’s
fellow truth seekers, who have gathered to celebrate the launch
of a new book: 9/11: Solving the Greatest Crime of All
Time—The Best of Global Outlook, Volume 1.
Although there are a number of men with dreadlocks in the room,
the crowd ranges in age and gender. A group of men from Owen
Sound—one sporting a “911=Inside
Job” shirt—even drove down in the inclement
weather just to see Zwicker speak. And when it’s
suggested that Zwicker should be nominated for the Order of
Canada, some of the crowd stands up to applaud.
Like Zwicker, a number of theorists are journalists who
worked for traditional media sources, but now dedicate their
careers to explaining the unexplained. William Thomas, a
journalist whose editorial writing has appeared in the
Globe and the Star, now
writes about the terror politics of 9/11 and the danger of
chemtrails (the trails left behind a jet that allegedly contain
harmful chemicals). Other journalists, such as CBC’s
Neil Macdonald, who questions the motives of the U.S.
“War on Terror” both on-air and in print,
continue to work within the confines of the mainstream press.
Even Naomi Klein’s book The Shock Doctrine:
The Rise of Disaster Capitalism, has been heralded by
conspiracy theory communities for supporting theories about the
economic motivations behind Sept. 11. (Klein disavows that her
research is necessarily proof of a conspiracy.)
And, at least on the issue of what exactly happened on
9/11, a Zogby poll conducted last year found that more than 51
per cent of U.S. citizens are now calling for further
investigations into the attacks on New York and Washington.
Despite their reputation for being of the tinfoil hat-wearing
persuasion, conspiracy theorists in the “War on
Terror” era have been gaining ground and credibility as
alternative news sources.
For Zwicker, who
says he was always destined to become a media critic, joining the
editorial team at Global Outlook: The Magazine of 9/11
Truth was a natural progression. In January 2002, he
produced the first of a six-part series examining the events of
9/11 for Vision TV—a series that would later become the
cult hit documentary, The Great Deception.
“I remember that when I first went public with my
serious questions about the official 9/11 story,”
Zwicker says, “a mainstream journalist solemnly told me
that I was making a huge mistake, that I would ruin my reputation
and shred my credibility being associated with such kooky
ideas.”
It was far from a mistake.
Zwicker’s popularity has since grown to levels beyond
that of his career as a mainstream journalist, and he went on to
produce a follow-up documentary, The Great
Conspiracy, organize the International
Citizens’ Inquiry Into 9/11 and publish
Towers of Deception: The Media Cover-up of 9/11.
He’s currently working on a book about
historical false flag operations: instances where governments act
but blame their actions on another entity, usually to gain public
support for an unpopular decision, such as going to war.
But Zwicker’s career choices
haven’t been fuelled by fame or financial
motivations—even his most popular videos are sold at
near cost and are available for free on YouTube. “A
labour of love is usually a labour of loss,” he
says.
With this level of publicity,
it’s not that mainstream news sources ignore Zwicker
and the claims of the 9/11 truth seekers—quite the
contrary, conspiracy theories regularly appear in headlines. But
instead of objectively discussing alternative evidence or
histories, mainstream journalists often engage in personal
attacks.
Case in point: when former
Star columnist Michele Landsberg dared to
admit that she questioned the official story, she was ridiculed
by commentators at another newspaper. In a May 2003 profile of
Zwicker, she wrote, “And if you call him a conspiracy
theorist, call me one, too, because I agree with Zwicker when he
says, ‘I don’t know exactly what happened but
something smells fishy.’ Even more rank-smelling is the
refusal of most Canadian journalists to ask embarrassingly uncool
questions about one of the worst catastrophes of our
time… in these strange times, asking direct or probing
questions about 9/11 will get you instant
put-downs.”
No more than two days
after Landsberg’s column was published, the
National Post made her the brunt of an
instant put-down. In an editorial titled “Michele
Landsberg loses it,” the Post
responded that the reason journalists
“haven’t reported on [9/11 conspiracy
theories] is because they’re good reporters.”
The editorial concluded, “Poisonous delusions such as
these do not belong in a mainstream newspaper.” While
the editorial legitimately questioned Landsberg beliefs, it did
so in less than an objective manner—by referring to
Zwicker’s theory as an “eccentric
crock” and failing to provide any
counter-arguments.
Five years later, the
debate still holds strong. Jonathan Kay, comment pages editor at
the Post, was the editorial managing editor
at the time of the Landsberg editorial. “I’m
a purist when it comes to free speech; I don’t think it
should be censored. But when conspiracy theories pop up in a
mainstream newspaper, they deserve to be smacked down,”
he says. Kay’s argument for why it shouldn’t
appear in the mainstream press is simple:
“It’s loony. It’s
crazy.”
Richard Syrett, host of
Newstalk 1010’s conspiracy theory call-in show, wishes
more journalists were interested.“ Nearly all that toil
in the vineyards of mainstream news,” he says,
“are arrogantly dismissive of most, if not all,
conspiracy theories.”
And when
mainstream media does challenge the views of truth-seekers,
Syrett says it’s not necessarily a fair or objective
debate. “It’s the straw man
argument,” he says. “They take the most
ridiculous aspects of the debate and hold it as representative of
all 9/11 truth seekers.” For example, Mark
Steyn’s August 30, 2006 Maclean’s
article, “Call Me Crazy. I Blame
Terrorists,” attacks the idea that a mid-air plane
switch took place—a theory that isn’t
necessarily prevalent amongst 9/11 researchers.
In addition to fellow journalists working against them,
there are other, more pragmatic reasons why writing beyond the
news wire has become increasingly difficult for journalists
dedicated to researching alternate sources of information. Syrett
and Zwicker agree that time constraints and deadline-driven
content make intensive research near impossible.
“You’ve got weekly deadlines,” says
Syrett, “so you’re not going to be able to
scratch beneath the surface to get to the truth.”
It’s hardly a secret—or a
conspiracy—that media concentration is also a major
roadblock. “The mainstream can’t afford to
tell you the entire truth,” says Syrett.
“They have sponsors, they get jittery when certain
things are talked about.”
Zwicker
says that although he believes there is
“marvelous” journalism in today’s
mainstream press, he also believes it is predominated by poor
quality reporting. “It’s superficial, it
misses the points and it’s not courageous or
insightful,” he says, “nor does it have a
historical dimension.”
But
historian Michael Bliss, who also responded to
Landsberg’s column calling it “the single
most appalling piece of writing [he] has ever read in a reputable
Canadian newspaper,” says the mainstream press
doesn’t cover conspiracy theories with good reason.
“It’s for the same reason that the mainstream
press doesn’t cover the latest developments in
holocaust denial,” he says. “The real problem
is that you can make a conspiracy theory about
anything.”
Kay agrees that judgment
calls are the bottom line when considering publication.
“Anyone should be free to give whatever theory they
want about 9/11 or any other historical event,” he
says. “But when you use a tragedy to advance this weird
theory that the American government precipitated the terrorist
attacks for its end, the effect of it is to stir up anti-American
hate on a fraudulent pretext. It’s toxic to public
discourse.”
Kay isn’t
alone in his belief. Ottawa Citizen
journalist Robert Sibley says, “[Conspiracy theories
are] a way for desperate people to make sense of the
world.” And freelance journalist and longtime political
commentator Gwynne Dyer has also gained notoriety for his
debunking commentary. In a March 2007 editorial about
Loose Change, a viral 9/11 conspiracy theory film
that, according to the film’s producers, has been
viewed by over 50 million people, Dyer argues that it’s
extraordinary that since 9/11, “not one of these 10,000
accomplices to mass murder has yielded to the temptation of
instant fame if only they blow the whistle on the greatest
conspiracy in history.” It’s an argument
that’s hard to ignore.
But truth
seekers haven’t been entirely dismissed by mainstream
media. In late 2003, the fifth estate aired
an episode examining the conspiracies surrounding 9/11, which
resulted in an unprecedented amount of viewer mail. Viewers
praised the show for being “the first national news
network on this continent to seriously raise questions about the
events surrounding 9/11.” In September 2006,
CBC News: Sunday aired a follow-up show on
“9/11: Truth, Lies and Conspiracy.” And
according to Syrett, his show, which is aired on mainstream
Newstalk 1010, is currently tied for the top
show in its market and time slot.
But in
general, Syrett argues, the media keep one eye at all times on
the advertisers, and news consumers now need to go beyond the
mainstream for better explanations.“ Those that decide
they really want to get to the truth and aren’t
satisfied with the information they’re getting leave
the mainstream media,” he says. “Readers and
viewers are doing the same thing in droves.”
The crowd gathered at Conspiracy Culture represents a
small slice of the population that is interested in alternative
news sources. Regardless of whether Zwicker’s version
of 9/11 is accurate, he’s asking
questions—something Landsberg says 99 per cent of
journalists don’t bother to do.
“I learned in journalism to try and identify
the really important questions you want to ask,”
Zwicker says. “To me, that’s the key to life,
let alone journalism. Ask the right
questions.”