Boogeymen: How Those in Power Weaponize Fear
Since time immemorial, humans have used fear as a tool of behavioral control, especially over society‘s most impressionable members – children. Perhaps the most classic example is the "boogeyman," a catchall term for a frightening mythical creature said to kidnap, eat, or otherwise bring doom upon misbehaving kids. Nearly every culture has its own version of the boogeyman story, from the ghost-like El Coco of Spain to the forest-dwelling, child-eating Baba Yaga of Slavic folklore to the sack-wielding kidnappers that populate the mythologies of many European societies.
But while the specific details may vary across time and place, boogeymen share many common characteristics revealing near-universal fears. They often take the shape of malevolent strangers or outsiders to the community, reflecting an innate human distrust of the "other." Their nebulous, haunting presence speaks to a fear of the dark and unknown. And their predilection for devouring or snatching away youngsters plays on the primal anxiety of being separated from one‘s family or social group.
These narratives are powerful in part because they are drilled into us from such an early age, when our brains are primed to absorb information unquestioningly from adult authority figures. Even as we grow older and consciously recognize the boogeyman as myth, the fear we internalized as children never quite leaves us. It‘s for this reason that a shocking number of people, when polled, will admit to believing in the existence of shadowy supernatural entities. For example, a 2019 survey by OnePoll found that nearly a third of British parents use the threat of their local boogeyman to scare kids into behaving themselves.
What is it about boogeymen that makes their ability to evoke dread so enduring, even into adulthood? Psychologists point to the way these myths tap into the deepest of human fears around loss of control, fear of the dark, and separation from loved ones. Boogeymen represent the ultimate "unsafe" stranger, the embodiment of the evils that we imagine may be lying in wait for us out in the world. For children, who have a more limited capacity to distinguish fantasy from reality, the anxiety and distress over being "taken" by one of these malicious entities can be acute.
And of course, those in positions of power have long recognized the potential to weaponize these kinds of primal fears to exert control and consolidate authority over a population. History is rife with examples of societies in the grip of moral panics, demonizing some group as an all-purpose scapegoat or bogeyman on which to fixate collective dread and loathing.
One need look no further than the anti-communist frenzy of the Red Scare that took hold in the United States during the early- to mid-20th century. Fueled by a potent combination of post-war paranoia and opportunistic political grandstanding, the era saw the rise of Senator Joseph McCarthy and his infamous witch hunts against alleged communist sympathizers. Blacklists proliferated as the label of "red" was indiscriminately affixed to everyone from Hollywood actors to union organizers to left-leaning academics. Protections against unlawful search and seizure were eroded and civil liberties fell by the wayside in an atmosphere of runaway distrust and finger-pointing.
Year | Estimated Number of FBI Domestic Intelligence Investigations |
---|---|
1955 | 113,000 |
1960 | 432,000 |
1965 | 488,000 |
1970 | 434,000 |
Source: "Surveillance in the Stacks: The FBI‘s Library Awareness Program," American Libraries, Nov 1988
The Red Scare served the interests of those in power by redirecting public fear and ire toward a shadowy ideological "enemy within." It provided a ready-made justification for the suppression of dissent and an expansion of domestic surveillance apparatuses. In an atmosphere of existential battle between capitalism and communism, any incursion on rights or liberties could be handwaved away as a necessary evil to protect against subversion.
We see echoes of these tactics in our present-day struggles against global terrorism. In the aftermath of the devastating attacks of September 11, 2001, the fear of Islamic extremism, stoked by racist tropes and political posturing, became an all-consuming specter in the lives of many Westerners. The PATRIOT Act vastly expanded US government surveillance powers, effectively declaring open season on the civil liberties of ordinary citizens. Telephone and internet records were vacuumed up indiscriminately, stored and analyzed behind closed doors. Discriminatory watchlists proliferated, restricting the movement of untold numbers of people, many of them American citizens, without due process.
Meanwhile, biases and assumptions around Muslims and Middle Easterners more generally, turbocharged to new heights in the post-9/11 moment, have fed a belligerent foreign policy premised on unending war against an amorphous extremist enemy. Entire countries have been torn apart, displacing millions and visiting untold suffering, in the name of defeating the Islamic terrorist boogeyman. And at home, the relentless drumbeat of fear has only served those in positions of power and authority, justifying ballooning military budgets and unprecedented expansions of centralized control over the lives of citizens.
This pattern of demonization in service of the prevailing power structure extends to the digital realm as well. As the internet has opened up avenues for free expression and the sharing of information outside "approved" channels, the prospect of an uncontrolled online ecosystem where anyone can communicate or organize strikes terror into the hearts of those who have traditionally been the gatekeepers of knowledge and narratives.
Authoritarian governments like China have built vast apparatuses of digital repression like the Great Firewall aimed at maintaining a stranglehold on what their citizens can see and say online. Use of virtual private networks and encrypted communication platforms is treated as tantamount to terrorism, with violators hunted down and subjected to harsh punishment as a deterrent. The mere act of seeking out or sharing forbidden information is transformed into a crime against the state. By convincing the public that an unrestricted internet poses an existential threat to the social order, those in power provide cover for the squelching of dissent.
In the West, while outright authoritarian control of the internet is a harder sell, those in positions of authority have become adept at weaponizing moral panics and inflated threats to justify centralized control over the digital public square. Whether it‘s the scourge of online child exploitation, the creep of hate speech and misinformation, or the use of the internet by terrorists and other boogeymen, the solutions on offer inevitably require us to entrust the big tech platforms with ever-increasing power to police content and communication.
The message is always the same: these companies, unaccountable though they may be, are the only entities that stand between us and digital anarchy. Anyone who resists opening up their private data is immediately suspect – after all, what do they have to hide? By exploiting society‘s deepest revulsions and fears, the powers that be are able to consolidate control over our online lives while suppressing alternatives under the guise of protecting the vulnerable.
A parallel dynamic plays out in the traditional financial sector‘s hostility toward cryptocurrency and blockchain technology. For those invested in preserving centralized control over money, the prospect of a decentralized, trustless system of value transfer is an extinction-level threat. It‘s no surprise, then, that crypto advocates are so often portrayed as enablers of terrorist financing, money launderers, and tax cheats. By affixing the Bitcoin or Ethereum logos to society‘s existing financial boogeymen, the monetary powers that be can poison public opinion against any system that threatens their gatekeeper status.
Of course, these dynamics are nothing new. From the anti-Semitic blood libel of the Middle Ages to the demonization of the Black community in the form of racist war on drugs and "tough on crime" policies, the ruling class has always found convenient scapegoats in the form of marginalized communities. Incite enough fear against immigrants, religious minorities, or political dissidents and suddenly even the most draconian policies become palatable. As long as there is a scary monster in the darkness to point to as the real threat, a frightened public can be led to tolerate or even clamor for its own subjugation.
But the price of allowing ourselves to be manipulated by fear is the slow choking off of what makes a free society special. When we live in terror of the boogeymen, both real and imagined, we inevitably turn against one another, seeing threats in every unfamiliar face. We willingly sacrifice our most cherished values and freedoms in the name of security. We become smaller, more withdrawn, too scared to raise our voices in defense of those victimized by authoritarian overreach. In such an atmosphere, the only true winners are the those who seek to amass power at the people‘s expense.
The antidote to boogeyman politics is fierce commitment to reason, empathy and the embrace of differences. We must fight to retain our childlike sense of openness to the world and compassion for others rather than closing ourselves off out of fear. When those in positions of influence come bearing tales of lurking dangers that only they can save us from, we must have the courage to ask for evidence, to demand accountability, to imagine alternatives beyond the choices we are given.
Only by breaking the spell of the boogeyman, in all its monstrous forms, can we hope to build a society grounded in cooperation and mutual understanding rather than paranoia and coercion. The things that go bump in the night wield only as much power as we choose to grant them. By opening ourselves to the light of reason and clear-eyed analysis, we can banish these shadowy specters and focus on building a better world, one unburdened by the crushing weight of imagined demons. It‘s a constant struggle, but one that‘s essential if we are to craft the more hopeful future we deserve.