There is an old pattern in human history that refuses to die.
Every civilization eventually develops a growing suspicion that somewhere behind the visible machinery of politics, media, finance, and culture, there are smaller circles of influence operating quietly in the shadows. Sometimes those suspicions are paranoid fantasy. Sometimes they are rooted in very real abuses of power. And sometimes the truth lives in the uncomfortable territory between the two.
Oddly enough, one of the clearest literary descriptions of this phenomenon comes from an unexpected source: The Book of Mormon, a book considered by members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to be sacred scripture or holy writ on par with The Holy Bible.
Most people who have read The Book of Mormon are familiar with two main tribes of people – one group known as the Nephites (after a man named Nephi) and another rival group known as the Lamanites (after Nephi’s rebellious elder brother, Laman). These two groups – the Nephites and the Lamanites – shared a very conflicted and complex history fraught with wars, conflicts, intrigue, and dominance, and sprinkled with occasional compatibility, but there was a third force woven throughout much of that narrative: the Gadianton Robbers.
The Gadianton Robbers were comprised, as far as we can tell, of disaffected Nephites and dissenting Lamanites. They were a third force comprised of outlaws and malcontents who wished to overpower both groups. They were not merely criminals in the ordinary sense. They operated through what the Book of Mormon narrative called “secret combinations” — hidden alliances bound together by ambition, manipulation, intimidation, corruption, violence, and abject wickedness. They were possessed by an unquenchable thirst for power and ambition. They were evil. They were, in a word, Satanic. And there were times in Nephite history where the Gadianton Robbers infiltrated and ultimately dominated Nephite government.
Whether one views The Book of Mormon as sacred scripture (and in full disclosure, I am in that camp), or allegory, or simply literature, the warning itself is difficult to ignore: civilizations become vulnerable when power is pursued without moral restraint and when influential networks begin operating beyond accountability.
That idea feels disturbingly modern.
Now, before someone hyperventilates and accuses me of wearing a tinfoil hat, let me be clear: not every bad event is evidence of a grand conspiracy. Sometimes incompetence is just incompetence. Sometimes coincidence is just coincidence. The internet has produced enough wild-eyed theories to make reasonable people cautious.
But caution cuts both ways.
Blindly dismissing every concern about institutional coordination, ideological capture, or covert influence is just as irrational as believing every rumor posted online.
History is rife with examples of powerful people collaborating behind closed doors while publicly insisting nothing unusual was happening.
The problem is not that conspiracies never exist.
The problem is that modern society has developed an almost religious commitment to pretending they never do.
And yet, the public keeps witnessing events that naturally erode trust.
Take a few examples.
The Russia Collusion Narrative
For years, Americans were told by the media, by college professors, and by certain politicians that Donald Trump was essentially a Kremlin asset and that definitive evidence of collusion was imminent. On March 22, 2017 on MSNBC’s “Meet the Press Daily” with Chuck Todd, Senator Adam Schiff, D-Calif., openly stated that “There is more than circumstantial evidence now” that Trump colluded with Russia to steal the 2016 election. He repeated this claim more than a year later on August 5, 2018 on CBS when he appeared as a guest on “Face The Nation.” On April 7, 2019, while on CNN’s “State of the Union” with Jake Tapper, Schiff again stated with confidence, “There is ample evidence of collusion in plain sight.” Yet Senator Schiff never once described what that so-called “evidence” consisted of, never produced it, never made it public. This is because Senator Schiff never had it, saw it, or knew what it consisted of, which is a polite way of saying that Senator Adam Schiff lied to the American people and, of course, was never held accountable for doing so. Yet the Russia collusion hoax dominated media cycles, shaped elections, consumed investigative resources, and fueled endless political hysteria.
Even so, after years of investigations, prosecutions, leaks, headlines, and breathless commentary, the sweeping conspiracy narrative largely collapsed under scrutiny. The only conspiracy was that people in positions of power (Hillary Clinton, John Brennan, James Comey, Barack Obama, to name a few) launched a totally phony narrative to try to destroy Donald Trump. Later revelations — including disputes over intelligence handling, investigative conduct, and internal government communications — only deepened public skepticism.
Regardless of one’s politics, many Americans were left asking a fair question: How did so many powerful institutions become so invested in a narrative that ultimately failed to produce the dramatic conclusions that had been promised?
That question alone should not be forbidden.
Political Violence and Moral Confusion
Another disturbing trend is the growing normalization of violent rhetoric.
When political figures survive assassination attempts or threats, one would hope the national response would be universal condemnation.
Instead, social media frequently reveals something uglier: people openly expressing disappointment that the attempt to murder another human being failed (or, in the case of Charlie Kirk’s murder, to openly gloat and celebrate that the assassination attempt succeeded.) Or take the rhetoric of actor Robert De Niro on Nicolle Wallace’s podcast (“The Best People” on or around February 23 or 24, 2026), claiming we’ve “got to get rid of” Donald Trump, which he said three times. (Get rid of him how exactly, Mr. De Niro?)
That is not activism.
That is moral corrosion.
And perhaps even more alarming is how casually some institutions excuse or minimize extremist rhetoric when it originates from the “correct” ideological side.
A society cannot remain stable if hatred becomes acceptable whenever it is politically convenient.
Elite Networks and Institutional Protection
Ordinary Americans (and I include myself in that designation) also notice a recurring pattern in public life: when average citizens make mistakes, consequences arrive swiftly. But when highly connected individuals or institutions fail spectacularly, accountability often evaporates.
Financial scandals. Intelligence failures. Political misconduct. Selective leaks. Coordinated media narratives. Evidence mishandled. Records disappearing. Investigations quietly fading away.
One incident alone may prove nothing.
But repeated patterns eventually create public suspicion that there are indeed protected circles operating under different rules.
People are not irrational for noticing this.
The Culture of Silence
Perhaps the most unsettling development is not any single conspiracy theory.
It is the growing pressure to avoid asking questions at all.
Healthy societies depend on transparency, skepticism, open inquiry, and vigorous debate. But increasingly, people fear professional destruction, public shaming, or digital mob attacks simply for expressing doubt about official narratives.
Once a culture begins punishing questions more aggressively than deception, trust collapses.
And when trust collapses, people naturally begin looking for hidden explanations.
That is why this issue matters.
Not because every theory is true.
But because powerful institutions often create the very conditions that give conspiratorial thinking oxygen.
Secrecy breeds suspicion.
Selective outrage breeds suspicion.
Double standards breed suspicion.
Arrogance breeds suspicion.
And when leaders repeatedly assure the public that obvious contradictions are not happening, ordinary people eventually stop believing them.
The Warning from The Book of Mormon
Returning to The Book of Mormon for a moment, it speaks powerfully from an ancient window of the past against those of us who allow “secret combinations” to fester in modern society. I strongly urge all readers to read the prophetic warning found therein in the Book of Ether, Chapter 8, verses 18-26 which can be accessed online here.
The ancient warning about “secret combinations” was ultimately less about cloaked figures meeting in underground chambers and more about something deeper: the corrupting influence of power detached from morality.
That danger did not disappear with ancient civilizations.
It merely changed clothes.
And perhaps the real elephant in the room is this:
Many Americans no longer fear that conspiracies might exist.
They fear that too many influential people no longer even believe accountability matters.
And that, my friends, is the latest elephant in the room.
