All posts by Lynn Barlow

Lynn Barlow is a writer based in Asheville, North Carolina. When she’s not writing, she can be found skiing, whitewater kayaking, or playing fetch with her dog Urza. Instagram: @biggitygnar
Members of the Proud Boys, a far-right nationalist group, confront a crowd at the second Million MAGA March in Washington, DC, in December 2020. The Proud Boys participated in the storming of the U.S. Capitol building during the January 6 insurrection, which was motivated by conspiracy theories about the stealing of the 2020 presidential election. Geoff Livingston, via Flickr
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Why Conspiracy Theories Captivate


The 9/11 terrorist attacks occurred when I was nine years old. In the days afterward, I remember obsessively reading everything I could about the attacks in my dad’s ​Newsweek ​magazines. A few years later, I stumbled upon the film ​Loose Change​, which purported to uncover the truth behind 9/11. At first, I was skeptical. Of course, Osama bin Laden was behind the attacks—that’s what I’d read in ​Newsweek.​ But as I kept watching the film, I felt a growing sense of doubt. By the time the credits rolled, I was sure that 9/11 was an inside job, orchestrated to create a pretext for a war in Iraq and subsequent war profiteering. 

As I grew up and gained more in the way of critical-thinking skills,​ I eventually came to recognize that the theories being pushed by 9/11 skeptics were delusional. That earlier flirtation with conspiracy theories in my adolescence has made particularly sensitive to the rash of similar falsehoods that are being widely peddled today—most notably, the pervasive belief that the 2020​ election​ was stolen, which led directly to the insurrection at the U.S. Capitol on January 6. What motivates people to believe in these blatantly bogus conspiracy theories?

Continue reading Why Conspiracy Theories Captivate →

Lynn Barlow is a writer based in Asheville, North Carolina. When she’s not writing, she can be found skiing, whitewater kayaking, or playing fetch with her dog Urza. Instagram: @biggitygnar

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"Drugs," by WithoutFins, via Flickr
Ocoee, Tennessee
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Gateway Drug

When the pandemic hit, I started working at a head shop—and started getting into the heads of my customers.


Last March, I was working in Montana as a ski instructor at the Big Sky Resort. When the pandemic reached the United States and stores started shutting down, I remember meeting up with friends for a potluck dinner. We drank Coronas and joked about the toilet paper shortage.

Three days later, the resort closed—an unprecedented six weeks early—and we were all out of jobs. My friends and I threw an impromptu end-of-season party at the local dive bar. There was an edge to that evening, though. It seemed that no one could sit still or hold a calm conversation.

A week after the resort closed, my boyfriend, who lived in Tennessee, called. There were rumors that states were going to shut their borders to keep the virus from spreading. “I don’t want you to be stuck in Montana away from me,” he said.

“What do you think I should do?” I asked.

“I want to come get you and move you back to Tennessee with me.”

I had intended to move in with my boyfriend after the ski season ended, but this would be two months earlier than planned. With some hesitation, I agreed. I didn’t want to leave my friends in Montana, but I didn’t want to have to deal with a pandemic on my own, either.

Once we got back to Tennessee, though, our plans began to unravel. That summer I was supposed to return to my seasonal job as a whitewater kayak instructor on the Ocoee River, but the state lockdown shut down that possibility. Instead, I sat by myself on the couch, day-drinking and watching Netflix. My boyfriend worked alone from morning till dark on various projects around his unfinished house.

At a certain point, I found myself surrounded by beer cans, watching American Hoggers, and realizing that I needed to get off the couch and out of my boyfriend’s house. When a friend called and said their mom needed help at the family store, I jumped at the opportunity—not thinking much about the fact that the “family store” was a head shop, a place that sells paraphernalia for using drugs. I’d worked as a line cook in plenty of restaurants and as a guide at rafting companies, I told myself. What could be so different about working at a head shop?

Continue reading Gateway Drug →

Lynn Barlow is a writer based in Asheville, North Carolina. When she’s not writing, she can be found skiing, whitewater kayaking, or playing fetch with her dog Urza. Instagram: @biggitygnar

Dear Reader, In The Fray is a nonprofit staffed by volunteers. If you liked this piece, could you please donate $10? If you want to help, you can also: