My friend has embraced conspiracy theories and I’m fed up with it

The question I’ve had a good friend for more than 30 years, but since Covid he has become a conspiracy theorist. He only sources “alternative news” from the internet. He quotes hard right, conspiracy narratives. He supports Trump and Putin. He claims he is an anarchist and won’t vote. He becomes arrogant and insulting because I disagree with him. He doesn’t read books, but I do, so if I bring up a book on the subject, he just dismisses it. I’m beyond tired of his rhetoric and have increasingly become angrier that he just wants to shove his crap down my throat and gives me no credit for anything I have to say, he just wants me to agree with him. I’m saddened that it has come to this, but I feel that if he can no longer respect my views and needs to insult and degrade my opinions, then I’m better off without him. Is there any hope?

Philippa’s answer The Covid-19 pandemic not only brought health concerns but social isolation, economic instability and a sense that the world is changing in unpredictable ways. During such turbulent times, many individuals feel lost and fearful. It’s a natural response to crave solid ground in an effort to gain a sense of clarity amid the chaos.

Historically, this craving for certainty has often led people to seek out leaders and ideologies that offer simple, definitive answers. One stark example is the rise of Adolf Hitler in 1930s Germany. After the First World War and during the economic disaster of the Great Depression, Germany was in turmoil. Many people were desperate for an explanation for their suffering and a promise of better days. Hitler offered a clear, simple narrative: Germany’s problems could be blamed on particular groups, such as Jews, and his authoritarian vision was presented as a path back to strength and stability. This example illustrates a fundamental human tendency: when life feels precarious, many people are drawn to ideologies that provide certainty – even if those ideologies are hateful and destructive.

The philosopher Hannah Arendt observed that people are often drawn to these movements, because they provide a sense of belonging and a framework that makes the world feel less chaotic. Arendt argued that those who feel isolated or alienated are particularly vulnerable to joining movements that promise solidarity and a clear division between “us” and “them”. This division simplifies the world into good and evil, allowing people to feel that their suffering has a clear cause and that a solution is possible, even if it means scapegoating others or even genocide.

Your friend’s embrace of conspiracy theories seems to be a modern manifestation of this same desire for certainty. By aligning himself with right-wing narratives, he has constructed a worldview that feels predictable and ordered. His admiration for figures who present themselves as “strong”, decisive leaders will be tied to his need for clear, unambiguous answers.

It is easier to believe that there is a hidden, malevolent force controlling events than to accept that randomness and chaos are part of life. By clinging to his chosen narratives, he is defending the certainty he has built for himself. If he were to entertain other perspectives it would leave him vulnerable to the fear he is trying to avoid.

Epictetus, one of the stoic philosophers, said: “It is not events that disturb people, but their judgments about them.” Your friend’s judgments are shaping his perception of the world and they have become a lens through which he sees every event and conversation. This is why discussions with him feel so frustrating and one-sided. He is not engaging with the facts or arguments you present; he is defending a worldview that helps him feel safe, even if that worldview is built on shaky foundations.

Trying to push against his beliefs deepens his defensiveness. Think of him like a car in a skid, you want to take the wheel and switch direction, but the car has too much momentum and it will carry on the same path. However, if you take hold of the wheel and steer into the skid, then there is a chance you can steer out of it. This means putting yourself in his shoes, understanding that his fears were triggered by the pandemic and how – for him – it was much less frightening to imagine that Covid was not a horrible freak of nature, but caused by a group of bad people. For him to then make those people his enemy, and attack that enemy, makes the ground feel safer under his feet. This is how you handle children who believe in monsters under the bed, you ask the child to tell you about the monsters and then you empathise and the child feels comforted. Then, and only then, will it be possible for the child not to believe in the monsters. Such an intervention could work with your friend, but it is a long shot.

You deserve relationships where your voice is heard and respected. It is not selfish to seek out friends who enrich your life rather than drain it. If steering into the skid doesn’t work, I’d call it a day and move on.

Every week Philippa Perry addresses a personal problem sent in by a reader. If you would like advice from Philippa, please send your problem to askphilippa@guardian.co.uk. Submissions are subject to our terms and conditions