Extraordinary Popular Delusions & the Madness of Crowds is the title of a book by Charles MacKay and was first published in 1841. (You can read it online here.) It traces crazes, manias and fanatical prejudices throughout history. It covers financial scams such as the South Sea Bubble and Tulipmania, as well as the more violent and cruel madness involved in witchhunts and the crusades. The book also takes a shot at Alchemy & the Philosopher's Stone, astrology, fortune-telling and Mesmerism.

While looking at a copy of it today, I thought that, in many ways, Harry Potter is a tale of people gripped by delusions and madness. There's the pureblood heresy, the fanatical quest for immortality and power, the greed for wealth and fame. And throughout the series, JKR pops the balloon that holds each madness aloft. Even the Hallows turn out to be hollow --or, at least, not the deus ex machina solution some were expecting.

So, do you see Harry Potter as a plea for commonsense, truth and individual reasoning? Are the Death Eaters in the grips of Groupthink? Is Fudge keeping a pyramid scheme alive by denying Voldemort's return and attempting to prevent a Panic or run on Gringotts? What of Dumbledore's and Hermione's take on Trelawney? The bigotry of the Dursleys?

There is, of course, the case of Luna Lovegood, who seems to possess method in her madness. Luna is a wonderful healer of broken souls, including that of her crackpot father. But then MacKay explores some fads and delusions that spring from valid ideas and just causes only to take on a life of their own. Luna may see the world as a poetic expression and not be so uptight about reality as Hermione is. And Harry both knows and accepts that Luna is a little loony.

So, how does Harry Potter deal with delusions and madness? In love, business, politics, education, parenting, sport and entertainment? What is Magic, after all? What do we make of Trelawney's baloney? Lockhart's charlatanism? Voldemort's trickery? A Veela's charisma? Does Harry Potter open our eyes to the reality of the world around us by showing that the fantastic doesn't always ride a Firebolt?

I wonder, david, if there isn't a need to separate out mass delusions from personal ones to answer that question?

You don't invoke the Nazis, or modern genocide, and I think there's something fundamentally different going on in the Death Eater movement than there is in the personal nuttiness of Trelawney or the popularity of handsome Lockhart. I'll try to come back later and answer at greater length - but meanwhile I'd ask: what separates the Death Eaters from the resistance? Or from the new and improved Aurors that Harry and Ron go on to create? And why did JKR go to such great lengths to show that the wisest and most authoritative character was one of the most vulnerable to malignant groupthink?

MacKay states in his chapter on the Alchymists that:Well, we can certainly see the mad search for immortality in the Horcruxes and the Hallows. And magic certainly appeals to the reader as a means to eliminate toil or work. And yet magic doesn't seem to be able to solve all the problems as poverty, hunger and illness remain part of the Wizarding World. And then there's that drive to know the future that causes Voldemort to try to murder Harry.

Well, comparing Trelawney's delusions to Voldemort's madness is silly, I admit. And I'm not doing that. These follies appear in many forms, some harmless, some deadly. Trelawney is desperate to find employment and only has the credential of a famous family name. Voldemort's drive for power and immortality involves the enslavement and death of others.

And that's where I'd say we can distinguish between the Death Eaters and the Order. The Death Eaters seek to impose a worldview on others while the Order resists in the name of Liberty. After the first war, the Order disbanded. The Order does not have a coherent political agenda beyond freedom and tolerance, whereas the Death Eaters seek to force all into a New Wizarding World Order.

Harry does become an Auror, but Ron appears to have only taken it up in the brief aftermath of the war and eventually joined his brother's joke shop. And Dumbledore's flirtation with the "Greater Good" was as a distraught teen. It reveals that the difference between good and evil can be razor thin. The domineering parent is very similar to the caring one. How to tell the difference? (I know some LL members think Molly is a terrible mother, which I don't understand.)

But this is what MacKay speaks to. Some manias and delusions have good intentions and profound ideas at their root. The Greater Good is a noble goal. But whose good and by what measure? That's where a more profound worldview is necessary. And Dumbledore's journey marks this. And, although not perfect, Dumbledore's message is internalized by Harry in King's Cross. JKR does not mean us to reject Dumbledore's message, but to realize that it's a hard won ideal.

In reading through some passages of the book, I came across the following:

Well, one of the most obvious correlations between the thoughts expressed in this statement and the world of Harry Potter is the treatment of the wizarding world by one Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

Clearly, no one in the wizarding world actually wanted to believe that Voldemort had risen to power once more - not the least of which was Fudge himself. In deluding himself absolutely, in rejecting truth, he encouraged his own falsehoods and therefore it was definitely a lot easier to persuade others that Voldemort's return was rubbish - because they naturally didn't want to believe it to begin with. Madness? Yes, actually.

The following statement supports the idea that Trelawney is desperate for employment and uses her link to a great name in her family in order to obtain it:

Clearly, Keppler did what he did with the proverbial grain of salt - and what I perceive as a wry, sheepish sense of humor about the whole situation. Trelawney, like Fudge I think, bought into her own brand of delusion - although I'm not quite sure what to make of the fact that she actually did make "true" prophecies twice that we know of - yet didn't realize it.

She may have been hard-pressed to come up with a prediction when asked by either Dumbledore or Umbridge - but she had deluded herself enough that she showed up for the interview at the Hog's Head - and thought that she would patronize Umbridge by uttering a few words of nonsense at her.

Trelawney is actually an interesting character in this sense. Rowling portrays her as an absolute batty fraud for the most part - yet she clearly did inherit some of her famous ancestress' gifts. Perhaps Trelawney knew she had the gift on some deep, deep level.

And perhaps not. Either way, buying into "seeing" into the future is, I think, the most intriguing of the three causes that have "excited the discontent of mankind".

I think the Death Eaters are definitely in the grips of Groupthink. In fact I see them as having all the classic trademarks of a cult: a charismatic leader whose views must not be questioned and who demands absolute obedience from his followers, instilling a belief among the members that they are one of a select few, privy to knowledge that others do not have thus manipulating the individual's desire both to feel special and to belong, playing members one off against the other to secure the leader's favour, insisting they break ties with all non-believers, even and most especially familial ties; and finally severe sanctions are incurred for any dissenters - from being cast out and isolated through to torture, both psychological and physical, and even murder in more extreme cases.

The loss of individual dignity when someone surrenders the mastery of their own will to another is nowhere better illustrated than in the case of Lucius Malfoy. We see how the proud, arrogant Malfoy, who swans around in the first three books intimidating others with his wealth and connections, is reduced to a pathetic 'yes' man before Voldemort in GoF. What a contrast to the impoverished outcast and mostly despised 'half-breed', Remus Lupin, whose quiet dignity never falters in spite of every insult- a classic illustration of the dignity to be found in maintaining true to the dictates of one's individual reason and conscience.

Just as the Malfoys' are deluded by the significance of their pure-blood status within the wizarding world, so too are the Dursleys slaves to maintaining the appearance of middle class respectability - not just to be 'perfectly normal' but also to be seen as being so. Both Vernon and Lucius are bullies towards those they see as subordinates but also act in their turn, quite slavish towards those who have the capacity to confer the status they so need. Witness Vernon's pathetic desire to impress a work associate in CoS, in essence, no different to Lucius's obsequiousness before Voldemort.

The characters the series holds up as positive figures have more independent spirits. True, like anyone they wish to be valued by those they respect and like but they don't lose themselves in the process. In the light of this, Neville Longbottom and Peter Pettigrew offer an interesting comparison. Both boys were less apparently talented than those whose friendship they valued; but whereas Peter is quite sycophantic vis a vis James and Sirius and later Voldemort, Neville remains true to himself and later triumphs, finally earning a respect from others beyond his wildest expectations. Knowing Sirius as we do, everything about him tells against the possibility of his ever having been a Death Eater. Padfoot will never be put on a leash, literally or metaphorically, just try it and he will snarl ferociously and break the restraint if for no other reason than to prove no-one has the right to rein him in! Whereas Sirius confronts what he sees as the illegitimate authority of an individual or group head on, Luna Lovegood floats past in her own parallel world as impossible to pin down as a will o' the wisp. Personalities like Luna's often infuriate would be autocratic powers even more than overtly rebellious figures like Sirius. Every conceivable effort made to force the Lunas of this world into submission are usually doomed by the sheer elusiveness of their natures. Though probably not consciously done, Luna is a subversive rather than rebellious spirit. Even Remus Lupin is a little in this vein. Being less likely to seek open conflict with the status quo, they may be more apparently compliant than the rebels, however, Luna has (as davidenglish expressed it) her poetic view of reality and Remus his ironic wit to set against prevailing norms they do not accept. In short, these two are every bit as unlikely to caught in the grips of Groupthink as a Sirius, a James or a Harry.

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Absolutely true. I think it is interesting to contrast the authority of Dumbledore within the Order and Voldemort's authority over his Death Eaters. The series is clearly not against authorities per se but makes a clear distinction between good and bad authority. Dumbledore never coerces anyone into doing anything. He advises others through appeal to their reason but ultimately the choice is up to them. He gives instructions for Sirius to lie low at Grimmauld Place. From what we know of Sirius, his instinctive position vis a vis virtually any authority is opposition and yet despite his chafing against Dumbledore's wishes, he concedes. (save a brief excursion as Padfoot to KC station) because his own good sense and his sense of obligation to others acknowledges deep down that Dumbledore is right - that is until later when he learns Harry is in danger and then his canine-like instinct to protect a member of his own pack takes precedence over all caution.


Cornelius Fudge, I see, as someone who has no other motivation beyond maintaining the status quo ie. the authority of the Ministry of Magic and his status at its head. While things are going well, the Ministry is a benign authority, as is Fudge himself. Before rumours of Voldemort's return, he appears to have little desire to exercise absolute control, just being the Minister for Magic in a democratic institution is enough for his ego. Voldemort's return, exposes the doubts he has of his own competence to handle the situation. He's an ostrich, because he cannot face the responsibility to act and once he has denied the truth of what is happening, it would mean a terrible loss of face to accept, even perhaps to himself, the incontrovertible evidence that it is indeed true. He is therefore caught in a spiral of self-deception, pulling the reins of power ever tighter to preserve his sense of himself as competent. He rationalizes his actions on the basis that he wishes to avoid panic, probably even partly convincing himself that it is more expedient to wait and see, maybe hoping this time with many of the Death Eaters imprisoned or dead, Voldemort poses less of a threat than before and it will all blow over. He is aided and abetted in his fool's paradise by enough people around him who also will not recognize the threat. I'm sure the fact that such a prestigious wizard as Lucius Malfoy is maintaining the charade that all is well feeds Fudge's self-deception. If Voldemort were back, he may argue, Lucius would be either openly joining him, running scared or actively opposing him depending on what Fudge believes about the rumours concerning Malfoy's past associations.

I think McGonagall, Hermione and Lupin are very similar with regards to their giving precedence over the rational as against the intuitive modes of thinking; reality is objectively 'out there' and they demand evidence backed up by sound reasoning to determine the truth of any situation. None of them have much respect for Trelawney's misty pretensions, though Lupin's attitude is more one of tolerant humour, ("I expect you've had enough of tea leaves' he tells Harry with a sparkle in his eye) than the more acerbic pronouncements of McGonagall's on the subject of Divination or Hermione's outright hostility. I see the series as arguing for a need to bring both modes of thinking into balance. We see the value of the intuitive in the fact that Harry, himself relies on instinct in his first encounters with Voldemort to survive. Luna, a more intuitive type, has as davidenglish says 'a method in her madness' and is 'a healer of broken souls'. Lupin risks reasoning his way out of a relationship with Tonks; and we see how once he learns to trust to feeling he experiences a joy in parenthood beyond anything he may have dreamt. One the other end of the continuum, we see that Trelawney is portrayed as a comic figure, a bit of a fraud but more harmlessly so than Lockhart. Her pronouncements are mostly rediculous with two notable exceptions. The fantasies of Luna's father are also portrayed as somewhat rediculous and there is a suggestion that Luna does need to distance herself from his more crazy notions to really come into her own. Lockhart is the most destructive of the fantasists, he is wilfully deceptive and yet also seriously deluded in his vanity - he really believes he deserves his celebrity. All three cases are a warning of the dangers of a purely subjective apprehension of reality with little or no basis in reason or evidence, however, the series also seems to be arguing that while reason does matter, intuition and a more poetic, less literal world-view nevertheless have their value.

Weird, I just bought that book recently in a used book store. The thing of course that springs to mind is the witch trials. That brings to mind racism and political correctness. Not so much the purebloods illustrating that as the muggles, especially as told by wizards in magical history