When I was 19, the first Harry Potter book came out. My mum was a school librarian so she brought it home over the school holidays for me to read. Like many kids and adults alike, I was completely captured by the story and devoured every new book as they were released. Now that my children have read them, they often say they wish they could go to Hogwarts instead of their school. “Don’t we all?” I reply frequently.
At the time of discovering the delicious world of Hogwarts I was also becoming a Christian from a new age background. I was new to church life, customs and fears. I went to a very traditional conservative church where there were very strong opinions about the Witchcraft and Wizardry aspect of the Harry Potter books. I knew a librarian at a Christian school who had a sealed section where children could bring a note from their parents if they wanted to read about Harry, Ron, Hermione and the evil Voldemort.
I sat through sermons warning Christians against witchcraft specifically. I found them amusing, as I still had friends who thought of themselves as “witches” and their “magic” appeared to be no more than wearing witchy clothes and burning herbs while reading witchy sounding spells aloud, to no obvious effect. More recently I heard a conservative christian family asserting that JK Rowling put *real magic* in her books, which was dangerous to be uttered aloud. However, my children are disappointed when no matter how hard they chant “windgardium leviooooosa” they are unable to levitate anything.
The Satanic Panic
It’s not just Christians who have a history of panicking about cultural trends and their perceived “power”, there have been movements throughout history where fear of demonic forces have gripped whole secular communities. Our minds can automatically click to “witch trials”, however we don’t have to go very far back in history to find examples of intense satanic panics. One of these shaped my generation, Gen X.
In the 1980’s and 90’s, there was a wave of panics about alleged sexual abuse in daycare centres across America. Abuse in these centres would be truly heinous if they were true, however, in the case of the McMaster preschool, they were not. In fact, this example turned out to have its roots in delusion and poor police work. An interesting feature of these panics were the allegations of satanic rituals such as sacrificing small animals, attaching “horns” to children’s bodies, invoking demons, or even flying children around on broomsticks . Turns out kids will say a lot of things if asked enough leading questions. This example is one of the reasons why we don’t “lead” children who make abuse allegations.
What makes this exponential rise in accusations of ritual abuse significant is that they followed the publication of a supposedly non-fiction book called Michelle Remembers. The author of the book was even asked to consult in the McMaster trial as an expert. Giving you the short version, a young, depressed woman who had recently miscarried went to an attractive, male psychiatrist, Dr Lawrence Padzer, for treatment. Under hypnosis, Michelle remembered shocking instances of torture and abuse over a period of months in a secret, satanic cult which she says her mother enabled.
The events which she “remembered” made the psychiatrist famous, leading to a bestselling book and authority to train law enforcement in identifying satanic abuse. A manual citing Dr Lawrence Padzer as an authority on satanic abuse was still being used by the FBI in 1992.
When “repressed memory” therapy was in vogue, the psychiatrist's story appeared to be true. The genuine fear it sparked across the generation cannot be overestimated. The story made most mainstream news outlets as fact.
The Debunking
Michelle’s story was later debunked by investigators, who interviewed her family, checked locations that she claimed were sites of satanic abuse and talked with Michelle’s school, who said she did not have a long absence of months. Although it should have been obvious that if a woman claimed to have had a devil's tail and horns surgically attached yet had no scars these claims came under no scrutiny prior to publication. At the time, Michelle’s explanation that the virgin Mary had removed her horns and tail without leaving scars had been a sufficient explanation for her catholic psychiatrist ( later husband).
So why did an implausible and ridiculous story without any evidence trigger such widespread fear and panic over decades?
Why do humans panic about things that may never happen?
The convenient power of a moral panic of any kind, including the satanic panic, is that it finds a scapegoat for society’s ills. If we can blame a faceless demonic force for a social problem, not only are we not to blame, but all we need to do is stay vigilant for a threat which will never eventuate.
But this doesn’t answer why we tend to panic. Sociologists identify moral panics as a type of cognitive bias that leads to mass hysteria. Critcher says that the difference between genuine social concern and a moral panic is this:
“...genuine concern about real social problems can exist, but the moral panic is distinguished by the element of irrationality and disproportionality, where the threat is grossly exaggerated” (Critcher 2017).
In a sense, a moral panic feels productive, but it doesn’t improve the world, protect the innocent or correct an injustice.
Moral Panic during the COVID19 Pandemic
During COVID, panic was rife. At first the fear of a pandemic unified a lot of society into positive decision making, but later the panic settled into irrational conspiracy theories on both left and right sides of society.
Right wing groups were afraid of a vaccine causing adverse effects, but more far fetched was the rumour that vaccines contained 5G tracking devices. A number of mainstream outlets carefully investigated to prove that this was not merely untrue, but also impossible. This is just one example of a raft of folk stories about vaccines being a method of social control, not to mention the fears of serious adverse effects.
On the opposite end, Ozsage, an advocacy group formed to encourage mask wearing, hygiene, "clean air" and vaccine uptake often veered into far-fetched protective measures. For example, Dr Greg Kelly, a paediatrician, modified his 6 month old's pram to accommodate a HEPA filter ( despite warnings not to modify baby equipment) and posted images of his masked baby on twitter, even though masks for under two year olds are not recommended.
In Jeremiah, the prophet says The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately sick; who can understand it? (Jeremiah 17:9). We are drawn to things we can obsess or panic about, rather than doing something productive.
It's important not merely to question the legitimacy of information that we absorb and believe during times of trouble, but also to ask why we're inclined to believe it in the first place. Often, a moral panic says more about our deepest anxieties and prejudices than we may realise.
A good test to check if something is a moral panic is whether the proposed theory leads to fear, rage and blame of a specific scapegoat, without productive change. Instead of jumping on the wagon and letting the mob spike fear and anger in you, take some time to research the claims and consider whether it's worth the cortisol.
