Social Contagions
To effectively resist social contagions you must be acknowledge that they exist
“Power is tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing.”
– 1984, George Orwell
As social creatures, the psychology of humans is easily influenced by the behavior of others. This drives two of the main ways in which marketing operates on our subconscious: “monkey see, monkey do” and “fear of missing out”.
Throughout history, outbreaks of mass behavior—what scholars now call social contagions—have shaped communities, disrupted societies, and sometimes destroyed lives. In today’s hyperconnected world, the onset is faster and the consequences even more dangerous when a new social contagion starts to spread.
The Dancing Plagues of the Middle Ages
One of the earliest recorded examples comes from the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, when men and women across Europe found themselves seized by the “dancing plague.” In Strasbourg in 1518, dozens of people reportedly danced uncontrollably in the streets for days, with some collapsing from exhaustion and even dancing themselves to death. Historians believe this was a form of mass psychogenic illness—madness by imitation—fueled by collective stress, famine, and superstition. What began with one individual quickly spread to dozens because the act itself was reinforced by visibility and attention.
Ecstatic Fits in Evangelical Churches
Centuries later, similar contagions surfaced in religious contexts. In certain evangelical and Pentecostal traditions, speaking in tongues and falling into seizure-like states are presented as manifestations of divine presence. While some genuinely believe these experiences are spiritual, sociologists note the contagious nature of such displays. When a congregation gathers and a few members begin convulsing, shouting, or babbling in glossolalia, others often follow. The affirmation of the group—and the implicit expectation to participate—creates a feedback loop that sustains the behavior.
The Satanic Panic and “Repressed” Memories
The 1980s and 1990s in America brought another kind of contagion: the satanic panic. Spurred by therapists promoting the unproven concept of “repressed memories,” parents and children came to believe in widespread ritual abuse and conspiracies involving hidden satanic cults. Careers were ruined, families destroyed, and innocent people imprisoned—all because of a self-reinforcing cultural wave. Like the dancing plagues, the satanic panic relied on visibility, repetition, and collective fear. Once mainstream media amplified it, the contagion spread unchecked.
TikTok Challenges and the Age of Virality
Today, the most visible examples are found on TikTok and other social platforms. Challenges such as the “Blackout Challenge,” encouraging children to choke themselves until unconscious, or the “Milk Crate Challenge,” where people risk breaking bones by climbing stacked crates, have led to serious injuries and even deaths. Unlike the slow spread of medieval plagues or localized panics, these trends can reach millions in a matter of hours. The cycle of imitation is no longer confined to a town square or congregation—it is global, instantaneous, and reinforced by likes, shares, and comments.
How the Internet Supercharges Contagions
The danger today is that social media provides both immediacy and affirmation. A single video can spark a trend, and feedback in the form of views and digital applause accelerates the behavior. Where medieval villagers might have seen a handful of dancers, today’s teenager can see hundreds of thousands of participants from around the world. The psychology is the same, but the scale and speed are exponentially greater. What once took months now takes minutes.
From Social Fads to Political Polarization
This same dynamic of contagion has seeped into politics. Online platforms encourage tribal identity and reward outrage, Bluesky being among the most polarized. Political narratives spread virally, with algorithms amplifying the most extreme voices. What started out as a marketplace of ideas has become a battlefield of reflexive hostility.
This has particularly polarized the American political landscape. The left has often adopted a posture of reflexive opposition: if conservatives promote an idea, the instinct is to demonize it, regardless of merit. As VP J.D. Vance remarked, “If Trump were for breathing, the left would hold their breath.” The quip is sharp, but it captures the reality of contagion-driven polarization. Opposing “the other side” becomes a social ritual, rewarded by applause within one’s tribe and reinforced by the viral logic of social media.
Transgenderism (aka The Potted Plant Contagion)
Consider a society in which a single person declares, “I am not human—I am a potted plant.” At first, such a statement would draw laughter or pity. Most would dismiss it as eccentric or delusional. But contagions rarely remain isolated. If others affirm that person—whether out of kindness, fear of offense, or the desire to appear enlightened—the claim gains traction. What begins as an individual neurosis becomes a collective expectation: friends, coworkers, even institutions begin to treat the individual as though they truly are a plant in a pot.
With repetition comes normalization. Soon, more people emerge making similar claims, and the idea spreads like a meme. Social media algorithms amplify the novelty, rewarding every video, photo, and blog post where people showcase their “plant identities.” What once seemed absurd now circulates as a serious cultural demand.
The afflicted demand that they be addressed by their chosen plant identity: Ficus, ivy or violet. Teachers are asked to affirm it, doctors to provide care consistent with it, including chopping off limbs and providing fertilizer supplements, and corporations market products that signal their solidarity. Laws are passed mandating that birth certificates and government documents reflect a person’s “plant” identity.
The contagion does not stop there. As history shows—from the dancing manias of the Middle Ages, to evangelical fits of tongues and seizures, to the satanic panic of the 1980s, to TikTok challenges that injure children—every social contagion escalates when affirmation is not enough. Those who doubt the delusion become the enemy. In the case of our “potted plant people,” anyone who dares to say, “You are human, not a plant,” is condemned as hateful, dangerous, even violent. And because dissent threatens the fragile identity on which the entire contagion rests, defenders of the delusion lash out with hostility. Violence, whether physical, reputational or legal, becomes the enforcement mechanism of the movement.
At this stage, reality itself is inverted. To deny the delusion is to commit the gravest offense. To affirm it is to signal virtue. The contagion transforms from eccentricity to orthodoxy, then from orthodoxy to tyranny. Society finds itself trapped in a cycle where absurdity must be defended with fury because reason would otherwise reveal the truth.
This is the essential danger of social contagions. They exploit human suggestibility, reward imitation, and escalate through affirmation until rational dissent is no longer tolerated. Whether in Strasbourg in 1518, in American courtrooms during the satanic panic, in viral TikTok trends, or in the allegory of the “potted plant,” the pattern is the same: ideas spread, affirmation fuels them, and eventually, enforcement silences opposition.
In the end, the potted plant is not just a metaphor for one person’s delusion; it is a reality that is being violently played out in the news daily, most recently with the assassination of Charlie Kirk. It is a warning about the fragility of societies that trade truth for belonging. When reason bows to contagion, reality becomes negotiable—and those who refuse to pretend pay the price.
We must fight back against the insanity by calling it what it is. Only by the collective actions of the sane to no longer affirm the delusions of the afflicted can we hope to regain our reason and stop its spread to others, mainly vulnerable youth who lack a moral foundation in their lives.