Why the Karen Read Conspiracy Endures: The Psychology of Belief in Misinformation
The APA explains why people cling to false beliefs—even when the facts say otherwise. The Karen Read saga is a case study in real time.
In a 2023 article titled "How misinformation takes hold—and how to fight it," the American Psychological Association (APA) explored why people believe falsehoods and how those beliefs shape action. If you've followed the Karen Read case, you already know this isn't just an academic issue—it's a live crisis of public reason.
Despite a mountain of digital forensic evidence showing that Karen Read reversed her Lexus at 24 mph into John O’Keefe, her supporters continue to promote a conspiracy theory involving dozens of supposed co-conspirators from soccer moms to various law enforcement agencies. Why? The APA report gives us a framework for understanding how misinformation metastasizes into unshakable belief—and why the “Free Karen Read” (FKR) narrative refuses to die, no matter how many facts bury it.
1. Misinformation thrives when it tells people what they want to hear.
The APA highlights that people are more likely to believe misinformation when it aligns with their values, emotions, or group identity. In the Karen Read case, this meant tapping into deep public distrust of law enforcement and institutions. "Turtleboy" and other conspiracy promoters cast Read as a relatable victim of corrupt insiders, a storyline tailor-made for true crime fans and anti-establishment crusaders. In that story, you weren’t just following a case—you were part of a movement. It felt righteous.
Truth doesn’t stand a chance when a lie makes you feel like a hero.
2. Once false beliefs take root, facts alone don’t change minds.
The APA warns about the “continued influence effect”—the tendency for people to keep believing misinformation even after it’s been corrected. That’s precisely what happened with the infamous “2:27 a.m. Google search” supposedly made by Jennifer McCabe. Cellebrite’s own forensic engineer testified it was an artifact from a reopened Safari tab. Gold standard digital tools (Cellebrite and Axiom) prove the real search occurred after John was found. And yet? It still fuels social media and YouTube rants.
Why? Because admitting it’s false means admitting the entire conspiracy theory falls apart. It’s not just a fact that dies—their whole community ends.
3. Emotion drives belief—and conspiracies are emotional comfort food.
Read’s defenders were never driven by data. They were driven by outrage, emotion, and the thrill of being part of something big. As the APA notes, misinformation spreads faster when it triggers emotion. A “cop cover-up” is sensational. A jealous, drunk girlfriend backing up too fast? Less so. No one wants to admit they got pulled into a drama where the villain was the person they were rooting for.
That’s why even when Read's SUV data, phone logs, GPS, and digital timelines tell a complete, corroborated story, it still gets called a “frame up.” The lie is more emotionally satisfying than the truth.
4. Repetition cements belief—especially in isolated echo chambers.
APA researchers point out that people are more likely to believe something if they hear it repeatedly. That's the foundation of the FKR ecosystem. Day after day, the same disproven talking points are repeated on blogs, livestreams, and TikToks: “The body was moved.” “There’s no taillight damage.” “The federal investigation.”
Never mind that GPS shows John never entered the house, taillight pieces, a sneaker, and a baseball hat were found under 3 feet of snow, or that the so-called federal investigation found nothing and quietly closed shop. When you're steeped in an alternate reality 24/7, repetition becomes truth.
5. Fighting misinformation requires a better story—not just better facts.
The APA emphasizes that corrections work best when they come with an alternative explanation. That’s been the problem: the truth, though well-documented, wasn’t being told with the same urgency or narrative clarity. The facts—techstream reverse data, O’Keefe’s phone locking at the moment of impact, DNA in the taillight casing, hair on the bumper, John’s last location matching the collision site—it becomes clear: this wasn’t a mystery. It was a digital crime scene, mapped in real time.
It’s a story grounded in objective evidence, not fantasy. And it’s time it gets told just as loudly.
In the end, the APA reminds us that truth is a process, not a one-time event.
Undoing a false belief is hard work. It means replacing emotion with reason, narrative with nuance, and suspicion with sobriety. But the Karen Read case is a warning: when misinformation goes viral, the system can fail us. And when belief outpaces facts, families are denied justice, and we all lose.