Origins of the Term
The Mandela Effect, coined in 2009 by paranormal researcher Fiona Broome, refers to a phenomenon where large groups of people remember an event or fact differently from the way it occurred. Broome’s realization stemmed from her incorrect belief that Nelson Mandela died in prison in the 1980s, even though he was released in 1990 and went on to become the president of South Africa and passed away in 2013. She then speculated on the possibility of collective misremembering: a convergent, yet false consensus within the social consciousness. It became clear to her that this wasn’t an isolated case; many individuals recalled historical events differently from actual records.
Moreover, if a distorted memory can remain consistent across a large enough set, can that distortion simply command the dominant opinion?
The Mandela effect does not attempt to find answers, but simply points out a phenomena. While the Mandela Effect is intriguing and sometimes unsettling, most psychologists and memory researchers believe that it can be explained by the quirks and imperfections of human memory rather than more fantastical theories like parallel universes. However, regardless of its origin, the Mandela Effect is a fascinating insight into the collective human psyche and the nature of memory.
Often, the memories influenced by the Mandela Effect aren’t pivotal enough to reshape human history, even if they were accurate. Yet, they’re consequential enough to unsettle those grappling with the reality of their misrecollections and alter the course of human history. However, if a misremembered zeitgeist possesses enough collective significance, it stands to reason that its residual fingerprints will also influence personal behavior, in varying degrees of importance. The most captivating aspect of the Mandela Effect is that it commonly pertains to details that, while peripheral in our daily lives, hold a certain abstract significance. These memories might be cherished for storytelling, entertainment, or simply to feel included in a shared cultural experience. The Mandela Effect thus serves as a fascinating exploration into the malleability of human memory and the ways in which our perceptions of reality can be subtly, yet profoundly, shifted. It’s a testament to the complexities of the human mind, showing how even seemingly insignificant details can become central in discussions about reality, perception, and truth.
Attribution plays a pivotal role in the Mandela Effect, extending beyond the theory itself. Our minds naturally strive for coherence, and in doing so, sometimes twist or simplify information to fit into a familiar or easily understandable narrative. These narratives may be informed by cultural references, repeated misquotations, or simply the way human memory tends to streamline information. One explanation lies in the narratives we craft to give meaning and context to our memories, both for our own understanding and when sharing with others. Take, for example, the frequently misquoted line from Snow White; while many recall it as “Mirror, mirror on the wall,” it’s actually “Magic mirror on the wall.” Similarly, in the Star Wars saga, the commonly remembered phrase “Luke, I am your father” is, in fact, “No, I am your father.” These discrepancies highlight the interplay between collective memory and the narratives we construct. Further, these misquotes have been repeated so often in pop culture references, parodies, and casual conversations that they’ve overshadowed the original lines. The familiar becomes the “correct” in the collective memory, even if it’s not accurate.
Attribution, in this context, goes beyond just pinpointing the source of a memory. It’s about understanding the narratives and stories that shape our collective understanding of events or phrases. By recognizing the role of narratives in the Mandela Effect, we gain insights into the malleability of human memory and the influence of cultural storytelling.
Memory isn’t a static repository of facts but a dynamic, reconstructive process. Each time we recall an event, we don’t access an exact imprint or “video recording” of it; instead, we’re reconstructing that event based on the traces it left in our brain. This reconstruction is influenced by myriad factors: Current Emotions and Beliefs, Subsequent Experiences, Social Influences, Cognitive Biases, Aging and Maturation. Each time we revisit a memory, we’re not just passively observing it but actively reconstructing it. This reconstruction, influenced by our current self, beliefs, and context, can subtly alter the memory. Over time, these alterations can accumulate, leading to significant distortions. This understanding of memory has profound implications for many areas, from everyday misunderstandings to the legal system’s reliance on eyewitness testimony. It underscores the importance of recognizing the fallibility of our memories and the factors that can shape and reshape them.
Memory, and the context in which it’s framed, is crucial. However, it’s often influenced by our present perspective. Rather than being a direct recollection of an event, memory is more about recalling the last time we pondered that particular sequence of events, leaving an imprint on our mind. This means we do recall certain elements of an event, but every time we revisit that memory, our current perspective can reshape it. Consequently, the nature of a memory can shift and evolve over time. As individuals undergo change, growth, and gain new experiences, the way they interpret a past memory is likely to change, highlighting the fluidity and malleability of our recollections.
Consequently, the Mandela Effect becomes an interesting idea when applied to collective memories. With many such events, the warped version can merely be an innocent retelling, or a poorly worded version being rewritten by the collective conscious of people to add a little umpff. Lets start with nelson Mandela because well his name is the namesake of the effect.
To reiterate, the thought of the Mandela effect arose because the coiner remembered very distinctly believing that Nelson Mandela died inside of a prison in 1980. However, if you look at Mandela from a purely political standpoint, he was a violent ethno-nationalist. He believed in an homogenous ethnic state, he was willing to use any means necessary to achieve that end, he sought for his ethnic demographic to be the sole controllers of the state and administration, and he supported redistributing resources through the national government by leveraging its power. Violence was a mere instrument to achieve the means that he believed at his core. In many ways, Nelson Mandela held many of the same principles that a National Socialist held in Nazi Germany.
“One of the great mistakes is to judge policies and programs by their intentions rather than their results.” -Milton Friedman
Delving deeper into Nelson Mandela’s[1] history reveals his leadership role in the African National Congress (ANC). The ANC, while advocating for an end to apartheid, did not shy away from employing violent tactics, including bombings, to achieve its aims. Given the backdrop of South Africa’s complex political landscape, Mandela’s imprisonment can be seen as a result of his association with such activities. In many countries during that time, the accusations leveled against Mandela might have led to even harsher consequences. Still, public perception often simplifies his story. Many recognize Mandela as the stalwart who ended apartheid but may not fully understand the circumstances of his incarceration. Notably, his time in prison was influenced by a deeply divisive political regime with racial undertones.
However, the widespread mis-remembering that he was responsible for the deaths of dozens appears to be a common mis-recollection, possibly verging on intentional distortion.
When someone misremembers a line from a movie, I see it as either a simple lapse in memory or a subconscious yet sharper callback with added flair. It could be an innocent mistake or, as Bob Ross might say, a “happy accident.” However, when we shift to significant cultural moments like the civil rights movement or universally acknowledged principles concerning Mandela, understanding the reasons behind these misconceptions becomes more complex. These distortions, taking root over generations, pose a challenge to determine. Still, I can at least highlight factual inaccuracies, even when many adamantly believe otherwise.
Desegregation was a Purely Religious Movement.
Check how many times MLK jr said “Christian”, “Faith”, and “Church”, in the Famous Letter from a Birmingham Jail.[2] Then read hisI have a Dream speech, and see how he talks about faith after his five declared dreams, or how he refers to “God’s Children”.[3]
Here are some excerpts from other speeches where he talks about the philosophy:
Conquering Segregation: “Racial segregation is a blatant denial of the unity which we have in Christ. Segregation is a tragic evil which is utterly un-Christian.”. . . “The Philosophy of Christianity is strongly opposed to the underlying philosophy of segregation. Therefore, every Christian is confronted with the basic responsibility of working courageously for a non-segregated society. The task of conquering segregation is an inescapable must confronting the Christian Churches.” (The Role of the Church in Facing the Nation’s Chief Moral Dilemma, April 25, 1957)[4]
Church and State Relations: “The church must be reminded that it is not the master or the servant of the state, but rather the conscience of the state. It must be the guide and the critic of the state, and never its tool. If the church does not recapture its prophetic zeal, it will become an irrelevant social club without moral or spiritual authority.” (A Knock at Midnight, June 11, 1967).[5]
One of the most notable misconceptions, reminiscent of the Mandela effect in recent history, is through viewing the civil rights movement chiefly as a secular initiative, overlooking its profound religious underpinnings. The forthcoming release of the FBI files might shed more light on this matter.[6]
MLK Jr., a Southern Baptist, viewed segregation as morally wrong based on his religious beliefs. He shared the concern of many religious leaders and followers of his time that the nation’s once-prevalent religious ethos[7] was fading into secularism. [8]
People often point out, “Christians in the South supported Jim Crow and slavery.” Indeed, many did, but it’s essential to recognize that the driving force behind the call for the rapid abolition of slavery stemmed from the very same Christian doctrine. The compelling moral foundation of the abolitionists’ appeal to Christianity ultimately overshadowed the Baptist’s arguments in support of slavery. Should we offer them forgiveness for previously upholding beliefs and legislating in ways they thought crucial to their way of life, or should we harshly condemn them for it?
Discussing broad and vaguely defined beliefs often obscures the crux of the matter; the devil is in the details. Trying to equate today’s “liberal” with the definitions from 20, 40, or 60 years ago is like comparing two entirely distinct species: though they might attempt to intermingle, ultimately, they’re incompatible. The same challenge arises when reconciling various religions or even different sects within a religion, like Christianity with its plethora of denominations and traditions. If one can’t specify the time, place, or the central figure behind a movement, their argument is as uninformed as saying that slavery no longer exists globally, or that the USA was the last to abolish it. If anyone doubts the accuracy of these statements, they might not be prepared for deeper discussions on the topic.
Slavery
If someone wishes to discuss slavery in the context of Christianity, it’s essential to specify the denomination and estimate the number of adherents who truly held that belief. I argue that it was a dominant minority who utilized religious justifications to defend their “rights” in the South. However, considering that most individuals did not own slaves (primarily due to economic constraints) and were more concerned with federal interference (prioritizing state rights over federal authority), they rallied against perceived threats, leading to the Civil War. With this in mind, how do you then view Islam, given that a significant portion of modern-day slavery, which now exceeds numbers from before 1870, is predominantly in countries with Muslim majorities? [9] [10]
It’s evident why the Southern Baptist’s defense of slavery using scripture paled in comparison to the Abolitionists’ arguments. Beyond the negative reputation of slavery, the practice of American chattel slavery bore little resemblance to the concept of slavery mentioned in the Bible. American slavery was fundamentally free trade at its darkest, devoid of any moral framework. In contrast, biblical standards for slavery implied a mutual responsibility: acquiring a slave meant also acquiring a duty to them. The Bible mandated fair treatment of slaves, including fair wages, rest during the Sabbath, and a prohibition against harsh or severe treatment. [11][12] An “owner” had a moral duty to recognize the humanity of their slave. If a slave was unjustly beaten or harmed, they were granted their freedom. In essence, the Bible emphasized treating slaves as human beings, acknowledging that their servitude was a product of circumstance, not a reflection of their inherent worth.
While comparing historical standards of living to modern conditions might seem inappropriate, it’s worth noting that many contemporary practices, like eugenics, raise ethical concerns. Consider the discussions around the disproportionate representation of minorities in prisons; a parallel can be drawn to the demographics most affected by abortions. It’s a misconception to claim that southern states wish to restrict abortion with the intent of harming black communities. [13] In reality, fewer restrictions on abortion could result in more minority births, seemingly counterintuitive for states often labeled as “racist.” [14] Meanwhile, states often regarded as “tolerant” and “open-minded” have higher abortion rates among minorities, both in numbers and proportions.
Segregation
If you believe in the giant melting pot, you are a crack pot. The melting pot provides no substance. The concept of the “melting pot” is often romanticized, but such homogenization can lead to cultural erasure. While the imagery of a pot suggests richness and substance, the reality of assimilation often strips away cultural depth. Many communities have sacrificed their customs, traditions, and practices for the sake of conforming, this conformity has cost more lives than the number of lives lost in wars. The term “genocide” directly translates to “the destruction of nations.” [15] Broken down, its components, “geno” and “cide,” evoke the image of “kneeling down.” It’s a somber reflection: assimilation can be akin to a community bowing down, surrendering its identity to a dominant culture or tradition.
Dreams come with their own set of trade-offs. If the aim is universal harmony, one might need to let go of deeply-rooted traditions or delineate between in-groups and out-groups. In reality, these classifications help individuals discern between values that hold merit, those that can be detrimental, and those unduly prioritized by others. Such distinctions have historically been the compass guiding personal and societal alignments.
Indeed, people instinctively lean towards “in-groups” and “out-groups.” This raises the question: which practices or values from the in-group should I respect and which habits or lifestyles from the out-group should I steer clear of, especially when striving for “morality”? The term “morality” is so wide-ranging that it can often seem void of clear meaning unless it’s based on specific sentiments or values. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with intuitive feelings, it’s more constructive to align oneself with individuals who resonate with our aspirations, rather than relying solely on what “just feels right.”
So, as traditional religion and communities weakened due to desegregation, bussing, and further strengthened by initiatives like LBJ’s “Great Society”, people started to align themselves with broader, often superficial markers like class, region, sports, politics, race, and, more recently, “gender identity” and orientation. However, these identifiers are as shallow as bonding over a shared eye color when it comes to navigating deep value-based disagreements. While there’s a plethora of literature, theories, and shared experiences within these categories, they don’t provide clear guidelines to distinguish the “in-group” from the “out-group” or explain why certain practices are deemed virtuous and worthy of emulation. Most of the terms we use, such as “good”, “bad”, and “evil”, originate from distinct philosophies, religious beliefs, or codes of conduct. Yet, these terms are frequently employed without a full grasp of their profound implications. This generalization is why definitions of concepts like “evil” vary widely, and those less articulate might simply lean on popular opinion without understanding or conveying the term’s deep-rooted essence.
The Slippery slope of liberalism
Liberalism, with each evolution, redefines what’s considered mainstream or acceptable. However, this evolution faces two primary challenges:
- What was pivotal in a movement two decades ago can now be seen as extreme or outdated. A once-central idea can drift to the margins, dismissed as passé or as an “ist”. This fluidity works if societal perspectives remain youthful and adaptable. But while change and openness to new concepts are encouraged, the broader aim seems to be ever-increasing inclusivity.
- What many overlook is that tolerance has its limits. Think of it as a bowl: it can only hold so many ideas or values. As you determine which concepts deserve space in this ‘bowl of acceptance’, inevitably, other ideas or practices get pushed out or are deemed less valuable. They aren’t prioritized or taught, and thus, over time, become viewed as less important. And just like a bowl can only contain a certain volume, our capacity for tolerance has boundaries. Anything that doesn’t fit into our defined scope of acceptance eventually gets perceived as lesser in our evolutionary mindset, lying outside our “bowl of tolerance”.
Passive Assimilation
Most current residents of the United States descend from immigrants. Historically, the decision to journey thousands of miles to settle in a new land was typically driven by the lack of promising prospects in their homeland. However, if someone migrated before the 20th century, assimilation wasn’t typically on the agenda. These individuals, along with their families, sought to maintain and live by the customs, values, and traditions inherent to their lineage. It was only in the early 20th century, when economic motivations began to dominate immigration reasons, that this mindset began to shift. This evolution in perspective is reminiscent of the Mandela Effect in contemporary times.
As the “melting pot” concept grew more prominent in contemporary culture, a shift in mindset occurred. Individuals began to prioritize ensuring a better life for their children, wanting to shield them from the challenges and adversities that prompted them, their parents, or even grandparents to emigrate. The idea was to integrate their offspring seamlessly into this melting pot. After all, the melting pot is supposed to be an equalizer, treating all its components fairly and without prejudice, right?
Many of us inherited the resilience and adaptability genes, traits honed for thriving in evolving circumstances. Our parents, in their aspiration for a better world, instilled in us the belief that being kind and treating everyone equally was of paramount importance. They envisioned this as the foundation for a harmonious society. In retrospect, this perspective was overly optimistic.
Such a perspective is naive because it overlooks the importance of community and a sense of belonging. Without these, it’s challenging to find a purpose or anchor during trying times. Being part of a group that shares traditions, culture, and background, or aligning with a religion that offers meaning in the face of adversity, can act as a bulwark against the bleak void of nihilism.
Without the distinction that separates one group from another, the melting pot becomes a jumble of diverse ingredients. However, individual preferences, sensitivities, and aspirations act as filters in this pot of varied elements. People possess unique tastes, dietary restrictions, or visions for the desired outcome. This inevitably leads to the pot fragmenting. The dichotomy between liberals and conservatives emerges as essential seasoning for the soup, each offering distinct flavors and nourishment. However, both pots often become cluttered with ingredients not for enhancing the overall flavor, but for the sake of aligning with specific groups. The pots lose their original purpose as they’re influenced by the desire to appease diverse associations, a departure from their intended essence.
Groups responsible for the “pot” should clearly define what ingredients they’re adding and why. Historically, these choices were guided by tradition or a higher moral imperative rooted in religious beliefs. Such guidance influenced leaders to advocate for protections of specific behaviors, impose sanctions against others, or deem certain actions as matters of personal discretion.
The Mandela effect has, in some ways, reshaped the collective memory of Americans regarding MLK’s actual mission. He advocated for a religious ethos to be central in American discourse, practices, and the rule of law. Today, many often cite his reference to judging by “the content of someone’s character,” yet there’s little reflection on the standards by which this content should be evaluated. MLK wasn’t just alluding to basic civility or pleasantness. He was unequivocally pointing towards living a life aligned with Christian virtues or sincerely following one’s faith.
This reminds me of a personal observation: the idealized concept of the melting pot has, in some instances, devolved into the transmission of degenerate values.
Both of my grandmothers prioritize two primary characteristics when it comes to potential partners for me: attractiveness and agreeability. Reflect on that for a moment. In their eyes, these traits supersede all other attributes in a woman I might introduce to them or even consider for marriage and parenthood. To me, this prioritization is astounding. While these traits may be significant, they shouldn’t overshadow the core attributes that genuinely matter in a lifelong partner. The critical questions should be: Do their values align with yours? And could you accept the possibility of your children inheriting their most challenging character flaws?
This underscores a pivotal issue stemming from the civil rights movement. It’s fairly reasonable to argue against categorizing people as “the other” based solely on superficial differences, asserting that distinctions should be more rooted in values (or beliefs). Society has oriented itself on the concept that all persons are created equal, which was referring to the fact that everyone has the same civil liberties. However, when we oversimplify the concept to assert that everyone is inherently equal in all aspects, problems arise. For those who deviate significantly from the average — be it above or below — this blanket notion of equality can seem nonsensical. Those on the lower end of the spectrum might fixate on visible differences, while those on the higher end tend to abstractly differentiate based on nuanced variations.
Segregation was indisputably wrong, but not only for the reasons often touted from a secular perspective. The issue wasn’t merely the separation based on visible differences. It was fundamentally flawed because it was a government-enforced division based on race, which lacked a genuine understanding of human value or the innate human desire for connection. This made it arbitrary and inherently unstable. Labeling the civil rights movement as purely secular is an oversimplification, particularly when considering the push for immediate “anti-racist” laws. Secular ideologies about life’s proper course can shift over time, lacking enduring anchors. In contrast, regardless of one’s personal stance on religion, religious values typically advocate for timeless principles, intending to guide not just the present but also future generations, ensuring their continuity and growth.
The most accurate portrayal of the civil rights movement is as a religious endeavor. While it parallels many secular narratives, it’s deeply rooted in spiritual beliefs and perspectives. The core essence of this movement, now somewhat distorted by Mandela effect-like social memory, emphasizes that what’s truly invaluable is often oversimplified in popular recounting. At its heart, the message is clear: GOD DOESN’T CARE ABOUT YOUR IDENTITY AS LONG AS YOU WALK THE RIGHTEOUS PATH. Conversely, if society becomes hyper-focused on racial lines, which inherently emphasizes personal experiences and subjective perspectives, we venture into treacherous territory. This perspective only holds when individuals perceive the world similarly, within a close range of experiences or beliefs. It circles back to the inherent danger of assuming everyone attributes the same importance to an event, ideology, or interpretation as one personally does.
This sentiment reminds me of the notion, “I might be mistaken, but until someone challenges my beliefs and proves otherwise, I’ll stand by them.” This underlines the duality of my call to action: (1) I strongly discourage any physical harm or injury based on my statements, and (2) if you genuinely disagree, articulate your counterargument precisely. Merely labeling my viewpoint as “offensive” or “potentially misunderstood” isn’t a substantive rebuttal.
Regarding point (1), I genuinely hope no physical harm comes to anyone based on these statements. However, if emotional or psychological certainties — or any other deeply held perceptions of truth — are challenged in a purely conceptual manner, that’s a consequence I can accept. Often, groups decrying “hate speech” paradoxically do so from a stance of power, masking a genuine fragility and employing manipulative tactics. If disagreements are rooted purely in beliefs, they should be expressible. It’s an alarming conceit to consider discourse beneath oneself. Using broad labels like “anti,” “phobic,” “ist,” “ism,” or any other sweeping categorizations to dismiss dissenting views is, in itself, a direct ideological assault.
Such terms have their place, particularly as summative descriptors after a comprehensive explanation of why a particular belief or action might be objectionable to a group. However, three main issues render these catch-all labels less credible: (1) they often bypass standalone, substantive arguments; (2) instead of focusing on the nuanced reasons behind a disagreement, they rely on broad categories of approval or disapproval, only occasionally referencing actual historical conflicts between groups; and (3) their primary aim is to provoke an emotional reaction. If these terms were genuine calls to action, the general populace would either rally behind them or vehemently oppose them, making them integral to our shared discourse.
Perhaps that’s the pitfall many men in my lineage succumbed to: they became too engrossed in another’s narrative and medium, neglecting to forge their own based on their life experiences. The challenge, it seems, lies in introspection.
[1] While Nelson Mandela did not personally kill anyone, he did advocate violent resistance against the South African government by creating a militant wing of the African National Congress. This organization set fires and bombed cars, killing several dozen people over a number of decades. Some then attribute these deaths to Mandela’s leadership while others focus on his nonviolent work and writing. Given the political environment and the anti-apartheid cause, it is difficult to make a moral assessment of these parts of Mandela’s life. https://www.heraldsun.com.au/news/opinion/the-dark-side-of-nelson-mandela/news-story/68f4acdbf2b0b4e6c799e458a55e6cb2
[2] https://www.africa.upenn.edu/Articles_Gen/Letter_Birmingham.html
[3] https://www.npr.org/2010/01/18/122701268/i-have-a-dream-speech-in-its-entirety
[4]http://okra.stanford.edu/transcription/document_images/Vol04Scans/184_1957_The%20Role%20of%20the%20Church.pdf
[5] https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/king-papers/documents/knock-midnight-0
[6] https://nymag.com/intelligencer/2019/06/martin-luther-king-fbi-files.html
[7] https://mixedadvocate.com/2023/05/28/weapons-of-mass-distractions-the-technologies-that-distracted-communication-skills/
[8] https://mixedadvocate.com/2023/05/14/secularism-the-tradition-ender/
[9] https://www.arisefdn.org/slavery-today?gclid=CjwKCAjwkeqkBhAnEiwA5U-uM5Kdr0ukWSSMAw7qbfSb3n3Vn0HyZg0Ky4y6wWAgDhLQPVROoSODvxoCNCgQAvD_BwE
[10] https://worldpopulationreview.com/country-rankings/countries-that-still-have-slavery
[11] (Ex 20:10, Job 31:13-15, Deut 24:14-15, Lev 22:11, Mal 3:5, Lev 19:20-22, Ex 21:20-21, 26-32,
[12] https://www.dbu.edu/mitchell/early-modern-resources/biblesla.html#:~:text=Likewise%2C%20slaves%20were%20to%20be,26%2D32%2C%20also%20cf.
[13] https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2023/01/11/what-the-data-says-about-abortion-in-the-u-s-2/
[14] https://www.kff.org/womens-health-policy/state-indicator/abortions-by-race/?currentTimeframe=0&sortModel=%7B%22colId%22:%22Location%22,%22sort%22:%22asc%22%7D
[15] It is important to parse out the Difference between causalities of war from people who died of disease during war, but further to separate the amount of people who died in war from the battle that actually kills the culture which is when the literal blood bath is over. The actions that kill cultures are what happens immediately after was via deportation or the intentional destruction of the primary city of a culture/nation, actions that are not really war but certainly not peace. The Assyrains would often deport and spread out the survivors of a city to different corners of their empire after took it,. After a general massacre, such an action was taken once formal hostilities ceased but was clearly more than passive assimilation. Passive assimilation is more like what the romans did to the Gauls, and is what is currently taking place in the western world.
The Wall 