The deplorables

“Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect.”¹

On December 31, 2019, China notified the World Health Organization (WHO) of the existence of pneumonia cases of unknown origin in Wuhan. Shortly thereafter, the Chinese authorities identified the virus involved as a new type of coronavirus and announced the first death associated with it. On March 11, 2020, the WHO declared the outbreak a global pandemic. Following this announcement, many countries imposed lockdowns: schools, “non-essential” services and cultural entities were particularly hard hit. In Québec, the government instituted public health protection measures and granted itself extraordinary powers, declaring a state of emergency that would remain in effect until June 1, 2022. There were daily press conferences, at least initially, in which we were told to protect ourselves, follow guidelines and avoid even small gatherings, all in tones one might expect from adults talking to children. Advertising campaigns intended to make the public aware of the risks associated with COVID-19 appeared in the media, shopping malls and public transportation spaces. They all repeated the same directives. And, as if we had not already sufficiently grasped the message, we received alerts by telephone. We were told that the world would never be the same again, that were entering the era of the “new normal.” Then came a series of nonsensical measure: parks were closed, school windows were left wide open in the middle of winter and we were even invited to wear surgical masks during sex. In the French cities of Nice and Cannes the beaches were even disinfected with hydrogen peroxide.²

Glued to their screens, people became increasingly anxious. I, too, was worried but for different reasons: what was happening seemed abnormal. Disconcerted, I observed those around me clinging unquestioningly to the official line as if it were a lifebuoy. Like others who called these measures into question, I found myself in the ranks of those considered “conspiracy theorists.” We were given demeaning labels, such as covidiots, simpletons, flu bros, deplorables, etc. People who opted to use their critical faculties and exercise their free will were suddenly ostracized by society. In an article entitled Le monde est-il fou? (Is the World Crazy?),³ journalist Stéphan Bureau discussed the issue with the philosopher and psychologist Ariane Bilheran, who specializes in the study of delusion contagion in groups. In her opinion, Western societies were functioning in increasingly perverse ways, using doublespeak and thought control and treating people as mere utilitarian objects. As she put it, “in a matter of months, we have seen the unraveling of all our human rights and basic freedoms, and we are witnessing the emergence of a kind of apartheid between, on the one hand, the vaccinated who belong to a cult of the initiated with access to various services and, on the other hand, those who are relegated to the status of human refuse.”

“The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in democratic society. Those who manipulate this unseen mechanism of society constitute an invisible government which is the true ruling power of our country.”⁴

To my astonishment, a considerable segment of the population was letting itself be dragged along in this direction, with every dissenting thought becoming suspect. Stunned, I tried to discuss this—unsuccessfully—with the people around me. The consensus that developed recently within society seems to be to be motivated by blind fear. In progressive circles generally, respect for individual opinion and personal choices had been a widely shared value. So how is it that we were treating people in this other way now? Mattias Desmet, a professor of clinical psychology at the University of Ghent in Belgium, has been studying, for quite some time now, the concept of mass formation and its psychological implications, particularly within the context of societal crises. Following the lineage of Gustave Le Bon’s The Crowd: A Study of the Popular Mind (the French original was published in 1895), Desmet explains that this phenomenon occurs when certain social conditions, such as generalized anxiety and frustration, come together and a narrative designating an anxiety object is introduced. People then generally adhere to the solution(s) advanced by the authorities to fight an enemy, whether it be political or biological. Individuals go along with it by opting for group strategy over critical thinking and ethical conscience. Desmet states that this gives them an illusion of connectedness and solidarity. But this false notion of community undermines true social cohesion, divides people and leads to the ostracization of those who do not hew to the dominant line of thought. Modern societies, due their increasing atomization, are particularly vulnerable to such dynamics.

“Those who dance are thought mad by those who don’t hear the music.”⁶

From 2020 to 2022, many Canadians showed their discontent by organizing freedom marches. They contested the public health measures imposed by the authorities, which in the eyes of the protestors seemed excessive and abusive. I, too, questioned the need for such restrictions because I found that the indispensable balance between public health and civil liberties was being neglected. Were we going to tip over into authoritarianism? Autocratic tendencies develop in periods of crisis and social upheaval, conditions that favour the acceptance of radical solutions, even if this means the suspension of human rights. In The Origins of Totalitarianism (1951), Hannah Arendt explained that totalitarian regimes often start with mass movements that unite people around a common ideology, giving them the mistaken feeling of belonging to a community. Through propaganda, enemies outside the group become designated scapegoats and all forms of political and social economy, particularly independent media and dissenting opinions, are swept aside. Manipulated minds are more receptive to “truth” manufactured in place of factual reality. Arendt warns us such wayward thinking is made possible by the complicity of ordinary people who obey orders without thinking: “Politically, the weakness of the argument of the lesser evil has always been that those who choose the lesser evil forget quickly that they chose evil.”⁵ How many people have spied on and denounced their fellow citizens? How many have agreed to use a vaccine passport in their stores simply because they felt they had to follow the rules? How many have shut out members of their own families?

Distressed by what was happening to us as a society, I took part in close to a dozen walks and demonstrations in Montréal and Québec City. I was also there for the departure of the People’s Convoy⁷ in Adelanto, California, where I happened to be working on another art project. These gatherings were equally emotional and festive; they brought together people from all walks of life, a motley crowd that danced and exchanged ideas. I made simple, straightforward portraits of the joyful people I met. The gloom of the shutdown, disinfected life we were being offered was far behind us.