Life on the West Island - Conspiracies

A recent West Island experience reminded us that conspiracy theories are not a new phenomenon and that they can be both dangerous and damaging.

It all started off quite mundanely, when we went to an author talk at a large library in a regional city. For the uninitiated, an “author talk” is part of the regular routine by which publishers and authors sell their new books. They usually start with coffee and biscuits in a public venue like a hall, library, or popular bookshop. If you’re really lucky or the author is famous, you may well get canapes and champagne. Slightly less noted authors (like the ones we usually hear) may merit cucumber sandwiches and wine. The event we attended last week only served warm tea and coffee from urns and supermarket biscuits, but that was not too bad on a cold West Island evening.

Of course, the point of the event is to sell the book and give you the chance to buy multiple signed copies inscribed to your favourite relatives or friends. As this one was in a public library, the publishers had a stand of the author’s books, and a branch of a national book chain was selling copies and taking note of the inscriptions required for the esteemed author to write along with his scrawled signature.

At this event, the author had moved to a career of writing crime fiction, after some 20 years as a journalist with one of the nation’s largest newspapers. He was interviewed about his latest book by a fellow scribbler and gave some information about his personal history and writing experience in a chatty and enjoyable exchange, before taking questions. He had mentioned that it was difficult to break into becoming a published author, so we asked him about the process, and he indicated that he made little headway until he engaged an experienced editor with publisher contacts. He also made a passing comment about learning the ropes as a reporter in the field.

When it came to our turn in the signing queue, we asked about his fieldwork, and our ears pricked up when he said that his first major assignment was to cover a prominent murder case in Norfolk Island. So, when the crowd had cleared and a few of us lingered to consume the remain biscuits and the lukewarm coffee, we advised him of our former residence in Norfolk Island and our knowledge of the events which had inspired so many conspiracy theories about Norfolk.

It turned out that the author was one of the large media pack which descended on Norfolk Island in 2004 for the week-long inquest into the murder of Janelle Patton. His face was slightly familiar, and we may have actually met him, among many others, during the challenging course of the inquest. He had stayed for seven days and become absorbed in the conspiracy theory of a “cone of silence” by which Islanders were protecting one of their own who had committed the murder, and whose identity was common knowledge in their community.

Long before the advent of social media, this led to a plethora of West Island media reports amplifying a wide range of false assumptions about Norfolk Island and its people with headlines such as Island of Whispers and Secrets and subsequently to lurid books and television specials making outrageous claims about the supposedly violent origins of the Pitcairners, depicting Islanders as rustic and ignorant and allegedly obstructive of the efforts of police to investigate and solve the crime. These fake stories were picked up with gusto by international media and the “cone of silence” theory was treated as a known fact.

This situation was made much worse by the “evidence” presented to the inquest by off-island police. Sixteen Norfolk Island “persons of interest” were named and the supposedly incriminating circumstantial information against them was spelled out in great detail. Offshore television and media crews pursued and harassed the unfortunate people named, ignoring the fact that the police admitted that there was no compelling evidence to charge any of them.

We pointed out to the esteemed author that hundreds of locals had in fact assisted the police enquiry and that eventually a New Zealander long since departed from the Island had been charged, convicted and gaoled for the murder. The offender was little-known to locals and there was no suggestion at the trial of any cover-up on the Island. The conspiracy theories were totally without substance.

Where this becomes relevant, is that the crime fiction author we heard has become popular by writing about murders in small communities, where there is a limited range of suspects and plenty of unsubstantiated or malicious gossip. That said, he is a skilled writer who follows the accepted norms of crime writing – such as hinting at a range of motives and potential killers, and fairly but constantly conflating circumstances to challenge the reader to pick the real killer before the final revelation is made in the last few pages. His books are cracking good reads and worthy of the renown which he is beginning to gain.

Buit that did not stop us wondering just how much his early experience of conspiracy theories in Norfolk Island might have influenced his choice of small rural West Island areas as the locations for his crime novels and the themes of locals who distrust police and attempt to settle scores with malicious gossip?

Conspiracy theories have been around since time immemorial, but it is only recently that we have developed social media, by means of which they can be spread to vast audiences and gain a dangerous life of their own, ruining reputations or even elevating tyrants and accomplished liars to high levels of political and economic power. Or is that just another conspiracy invented by Life on the West Island? You be the judge…