In the classic Broadway musical and film The Music Man, "Professor" Harold Hill (played by Robert Preston) is a con man who goes from town to town purportedly forming boys’ bands. His scam is to collect money for uniforms and instruments from parents and then skip out without delivering. As the show opens, Hill arrives in River City, Iowa, where he soon learns that the Hawkeyes are tough customers: If they don’t already have something, they do without it. He soon happens upon an old acquaintance who informs him that the local billiards parlor has just acquired a pool table.

Recognizing the opportunity that this newfangled game table represents, Hill starts spreading the alarm that pool-playing will turn River City’s boys into foul-mouthed, cigarette-smoking juvenile delinquents. He declares, “You got trouble right here in River City!” Only a boys’ band can keep the youngsters occupied with a wholesome pastime and out of the pool hall.

Moral Panic, Moral Outrage

Harold Hill cynically hyped an inconsequential object until it loomed large in the imagination of his victims. The pool table was merely a convenient lever that allowed him to pry money from the pockets of credulous customers. This is moral panic, and when it spreads it evokes widespread moral outrage.

Sociologist Stanley Cohen originated the concept of moral panic, which first appeared in his 1972 book, Folk Devils and Moral Panics: The Creation of the Mods and Rockers. Cohen investigated conflicts between British youth gangs of that era (i.e., “mods” vs. “rockers”) and the way media, police, and politicians spread moral panic about these delinquents through their reactionary responses.

Today, organized groups foment moral panics over drag-queen story hours, age-appropriate library books dealing with sex and gender, and the teaching of slavery as a part of American history. These are ginned-up “pool table” issues compared to such actual existential problems as the epidemic of mass shootings, climate change, and declining educational achievement among American young people, to name but a few.

Moral panic is effective when people take faux fearmongering seriously and respond with anger and hysteria. In contrast, those who recognize fake issues for what they are and dismiss them as moral phantoms cannot be manipulated by such alarmism. But when traditional media, social media, and political propaganda publicize and promote bogus societal concerns, they can (and often do) succeed in distracting people from truly pressing issues. When moral panics are intentionally induced, their very purpose is to divert attention.

It should be noted that not all moral panics are deliberate attempts to manipulate public opinion. People who were alive during the 9/11 attacks will remember that letters containing anthrax were also sent to members of Congress, media offices, and others at that time. We weren’t sure whether there would be more attacks, what other areas might be targeted, and whether millions of people would be subjected to biological or chemical warfare. People bought gas masks and prepared to wrap their homes in plastic sheeting and duct tape. I remember quite well that major news networks presented house-wrapping as a plausible response for concerned citizens – until someone calmed down enough to point out that occupants of plastic-encased homes might smother to death.

The country was half-mad with fear and worry after 9/11, and no one knew what would happen next. The threat of terror attacks was real, not a manipulative ploy, and the news media weren’t trying to con people; they were genuinely trying to be helpful, even though they were often wrong.

We live in a time of rapid and unsettling change. Many massive problems seem poised to converge, and neither our leaders nor our citizenry seem capable of uniting for common solutions. To deal effectively with big, real-world problems – and for the sake of our mental health – we should strive to think clearly, focus on essential priorities, and leave moral panics to the rubes in River City.