As I write this, I realise that my existence is impossible for a section of the world; I have taken all four shots of the vaccine, I am alive and healthy, and so far, no massive blood clots have been found anywhere inside me.

When Covid started, the Anti-Vax community found excuses to avoid taking any vaccine: they said that it was experimental, that it was part of the Chinese bio-weapon plan, that it would make you magnetic, that it would be used to track your whereabouts, and so on. Then everything became part of a mega conspiracy, as “evidently” showed in the antivaxx propaganda films Plandemic 1 and 2, which alleged that the head of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, Dr Anthony Fauci, created Covid and developed a vaccine in order to make money, or possibly to kill everybody and cleanse humanity as part of an Illuminati plot.

I don’t want to delve into all the vaccine conspiracies here – other folks have already done that. Snopes, for example, has a pretty good catalogue of debunking fake vaccine news. Instead, I want to deal with the aftermath of the vaccines, once they were out; people got their vaccine, pandemic restrictions were reducing, and the folks who were able to began moving on with their lives. This is perhaps not the appropriate course of action in a pandemic – just because you are immunised, it doesn’t mean that the whole crisis is immediately over – but it is what happened. 

While the vaccinated went back to their lives, what of the antivaxxers? They needed a new way to distinguish themselves from the rest of society – something more positive than the inherently-negative term ‘antivax’. Thus, they embraced the term “Pureblood”.

Among antivax circles and conspiracy groups, reports circulated claiming that the ‘pure’ ones who refused the vaccine were all remaining healthy, while those who took the vaccine died. What proof did they have that vaccinated people were dying in great number? Viral videos, which showed people collapsing, or dying suddenly. How, asked the ‘Purebloods’, could such healthy young folk die like that? It must be because of vaccines.

Except, the videos, of course, don’t actually show what is claimed. The videos don’t explain whether the subject died because of the vaccine, or because of some other condition they had – or whether they even died at all. Many of the case studies of so-called “Vaccine Victims” include people who went on to make a full recovery, or who (as in the case of nurse Tiffany Dover, from one popular viral video) were never seriously ill in the first place.

Plus, the reality is that, sadly, death is a certainty in life: even if the chances of someone dying as a result of an intervention are extremely low, once you multiple that by eight billion humans, it’s always going to be possible to cherry pick the rare examples to build your antivax, Pureblood conspiracy. Without the context to tell us what actually happened to the people who are the subject of all the claims and videos, it’s impossible for to know whether they really were injured by the vaccine. And, with over 13 billion doses of the vaccine given so far, I doubt that it really is the cause of widespread injuries and deaths.

Still, the myth of Pureblood is fascinating, for a combination of extraordinary factors: the notion that the human body is a temple, and that a vaccine will not only enter but will pierce and penetrate the body. How very Freudian. Plus, according to various claims made by the Purebloods, as it enters and corrupts, it changes your DNA, or makes you become a giant magnet, or (as some extreme claims would have it) even makes you a transmitter for 4G or 5G… but, crucially, they say, it doesn’t actually stop Covid. So the only sensible solution is simply not to take it – and in doing so become, according to them, possessor of the most prized commodity on the planet.

According to some who believe in the Pureblood myth, unvaccinated blood will become incredibly valuable, because it would be full of oxygen and haemoglobin, while the vaccinated would be sick, clumpy, and full of clots. 

The sad thing is, believing this conspiracy theory can have serious consequences, as in the case of a six month old baby in New Zealand whose parents initially refused to consent to life-saving heart surgery, unless the doctors could guarantee that any blood transfusions came from unvaccinated donors. Thankfully, eventually, the surgery went ahead, after intervention from the courts.

What happens when the predicted tsunami of deaths among vaccinated people fails to materialise? Believers in the Pureblood notion will simply double-down – in fact, we have already seen the narrative begin to switch, with claims that the ‘deep state and big pharma’ are hiding all news of the billions who have dead.

And how to explain that the excess deaths were more pronounced among unvaccinated people? The narrative became that vaccinated people were shedding proteins that made unvaccinated people sick. This story could then be used to explain why people were still dying of Covid, as well as reinforcing the persecution complex among antivaxxers.

What can we take from this pureblood narrative? That the persecution complex of the antivax community has only deepened, and they are now able to see themselves as special for refusing to accept a vaccine, yet they believe they are dying because of the careless decisions of others – pure projection. At the same time, we see the familiar old narratives of the body being corrupted by an outsider, a truly ancient fear.

At the time this article was written, #criticalthinking was used 100 times on Twitter in the previous 24 hours. It had the potential to reach almost half a million users. So if the concept of critical thinking is so popular, why aren’t we making any progress toward general consensus on controversial subjects?

Part of the answer lies in these two tweets:

Clearly the two tweets both suggest critical thinking is the solution to the problem, but from the opposite sides of the argument. How is it that we all claim to be implementing critical thinking and we are all coming to different conclusions?

The answer is that our cognitive biases interfere with our ability to be truly critical in our thinking. This is not a new concept. Without looking too hard, we can find examples of this in modern literature, recent psychological publications and neurological research. So, what do we do? Throw up our hands and accept that we are destined to disagree? Allow every debate to devolve into a fist fight? Swear off of holidays with the family?

That would be the easy solution, but if our goal is to attempt to achieve some sort of consensus, then I suggest that we adopt a more challenging strategy. First, we alter our approach to changing people’s minds. That one is much easier than the second aspect of the strategy which is to look honestly at our own perspectives.

In order to change people’s minds, facts are not as helpful as you might think. More important than the content of what you say is how you say it. If you have heard Megan Phelps Roper talk about her time with the hate-group the Westboro Baptist Church, she describes their confrontational approach as based on the idea that if they present their truth, God will soften people’s hearts. To them, it does not matter how offensive or insulting they may be; once the idea is presented, the rest is up to God. I feel that many of us approach conversations the same way: my job is to lay the facts at my opponent’s feet and then they will see the error of their ways and agree that my perspective is the correct one. Of course, that rarely happens.

When we use aggressive language, when it is obvious that we are not listening to the other person, and when we are dismissive or don’t address their ideas, the other person responds by shutting down or adopting a defensive stance. Either way, they don’t hear our perspective, no matter how well-crafted our argument or how accurate our facts may be.

But what if they are wrong and I am right? It doesn’t matter. No matter how wrong they may be, their mind will not change with a simple presentation of facts. Instead of treating the conversation like a battle to be won, treat it like a conversation. In a conversation we share ideas and there is a back-and-forth. Listen – actually listen – to their perspective. Find points that you can agree with (no matter how difficult it may be). Rephrase and repeat their assertions. Be gracious and polite, as if you are concerned for the other person’s feelings.

Don’t try and change their mind; instead make your goal that they walk away with some piece of information they did not previously have, so that they can consider it at their own pace and convenience. Don’t interrupt them, allow them to feel that they are heard. Don’t belittle or demean either them or their talking points. Don’t make the conversation feel like an interrogation.

The second point of attempting to achieve some consensus is to look at our own beliefs. This is significantly more difficult than changing someone else’s mind, because the easiest person to fool is ourselves. The first step is to honestly consider why we hold the beliefs that we do. Is it because we had all the various perspectives laid out before us in an orderly and systematic fashion, and we chose the one that contained the most consistent and rational arguments? Or is the reason we hold a belief something more trivial? Do we hold the belief because it was the first one that was presented to us? Because it came along at a time when we were receptive to new ideas? Because someone we admire holds the same belief? Rarely is it the case that we held one belief, and someone debated us out of our position and into theirs.

Being wrong is emotionally debilitating and so we are hardwired to avoid that sensation, especially when there is someone to witness our acknowledgement of erroneous belief. Changing of minds typically occurs when our attention is elsewhere. One moment we are adherents to one belief and the next moment we notice that our opinion has shifted to a different point of view. When that happens, we often congratulate ourselves on our open-mindedness and willingness to adopt new opinions, but in reality the shift happened beyond our conscious mind, and so it could be argued that we deserve none of the credit.

Consider one of the perspectives that you have on a topic that is contentious, and not yet settled. How well do you actually understand the issue? Why do you hold that position? What would it take to change your mind? The last question is particularly insightful into how tightly we hold onto our beliefs.

Take, for example, the origins of COVID-19, and ask those three previous questions of yourself. Would it take an admission of guilt from a high-ranking health official, or an official acknowledgement of involvement from the Chinese government? Would you be willing to adjust your opinion if there were significant information that contradicted the official account? Perform the same exercise with the question of fraud in the 2020 US Presidential election. Consider another issue that is particularly contentious in your life and, as I said previously, pay particular attention to the third question: what would it take to change your mind?

If an acquaintance casually mentions an opinion that contradicts your own, do you immediately dismiss it, or do you ask them to elaborate so that you can consider the validity of the opinion? When a report comes to light that questions the integrity of your trusted source, do you immediately dismiss it or look for confirmation?

The human species is wired to create an “us” and a “them.” This strategy has ensured our survival, yet it is also the cause of nearly all of our conflicts. In times of peace, we are unable to turn off the instinct towards tribalism, and so we must develop internal mechanisms that will override that instinct. Without the overrides, everyone who agrees with us is our friend, and everyone else is our enemy, and we will never achieve any sort of consensus.