Introduction

The last decade has seen a significant upsurge in academic and public debates on phenomena such as populism, fake news, conspiracy theories and misinformation.Footnote 1 These signifiers are often uncritically brought together in the same discussion, generating and naturalising affinities among them to the extent that they are now discussed under the umbrella notion of ‘post-truth populism’. According to the relevant literature, ‘post-truth populism’ is often understood as a ‘new’ political phenomenon (Ryoko Drávucz & Kocollari, 2023, p. 248) principally defined by its indifference towards facts and evidence (Fossum, 2023). It capitalises upon, and instrumentalises, technological advancements related to social media and, most recently, artificial intelligence to contaminate the public sphere by spreading fake news and misinformation (Carlson, 2020; Monti, 2020). As such, ‘post-truth populism’ taps into citizens’ emotions and anxieties, manipulating public opinion (Harsin, 2018; Kinnvall, 2018). Therefore, it downplays reason and rationality (Hoggan-Kloubert & Hoggan, 2023). As a result, it is understood as a threat to democracy and society (Hector, 2018; Speed & Mannion, 2017).

Readers might perceive the above description of ‘post-truth populism’ as sensible and in line with their own preconceptions about the phenomenon. However, this designation oversimplifies a complex phenomenon. This chapter argues that the discursive construction of ‘post-truth populism’ is facilitated by the automatic adoption of an anti-populist perspective as a default point of departure in any discussion about populism (cf. De Cleen et al., 2018; Stavrakakis, 2017).

‘Populism’ became a ubiquitous word in the (post-)financial crisis (2008) discourse. It was used widely, by experts, politicians as well as citizens, serving as a metaphor for ‘irrationalism’, ‘manipulation’ and ‘demagogy’. Schematically, populism was positioned in opposition to liberalism, pluralism, human rights and, ultimately, democracy (Stavrakakis, Katsambekis, Kioupkiolis, et al., 2017). This alarmist trend was accelerated with the ‘double shock’ of the BREXIT referendum in the UK and the election of Donald Trump in the US in 2016, and received a further boost with the COVID-19 healthcare crisis—during which ‘populism’ was associated with anti-science positions, vaccine scepticism and so on (Galanopoulos & Stavrakakis, 2022; Galanopoulos & Venizelos, 2022). A similar hype can be observed in relation to ‘post-truth’. Even before the pandemic, numerous works were published by pundits with ‘Post-Truth’ in their title. These include, to name a few, Evan Davis' (2017) Post-Truth: Why We Have Reached Peak Bullshit and What We Can Do About It; Mathew D’Ancona's (2017) Post-Truth: The New War on Truth and How to Fight it; and James Ball’s (2017) Post-Truth: How Bullshit Conquered the World. Despite the varying focus of these works, they share a certain attitude towards post-truth. They are not simply critical of it (as they should be), but also dismissive towards ‘the masses’ that are presented as ‘ignorant’ and ‘mesmerised’. Having embarked on a mission to defeat opponents of facts and objective reality, these pundits see themselves as gatekeepers of truth. Such a stance offers little in grasping the complexity and salience of the phenomenon.

Arguably, the COVID-19 pandemic served as a (discursive) critical juncture connecting these two distinct (and normatively charged) notions. From the event of the pandemic onwards, it is no longer ‘populism’ on the one hand, and ‘post-truth’ on the other. Rather, the two notions are presented as an organic ensemble, constituting what is referred to as ‘post-truth populism’. For example, Ryoko Drávucz and Kocollari (2023, p. 244) argue that ‘‘‘post-truth populism’’ can be regarded as a category on its own and a special type of populist political communication’. The authors maintain that populism and post-truth ‘had been intertwined or mixed up as they seem to go hand in hand and are even used to refer to quite similar, if not the very same things’ (Ryoko Drávucz & Kocollari, 2023, p. 245).

The central objective of this chapter is to interrogate the forced association between populism and post-truth, as well as the overarching (stereotypical) assumptions that underlie their supposed relationship. Discourse on ‘post-truth populism’ is neither neutral nor inconsequential. Betraying an alarmist overtone, with profoundly elitist and anti-populist anxieties, such an unreflexive response has significant theoretical and political implications. To begin with, dominant discussions place enormous emphasis on the consequences ‘post-truth populism’ may have on politics, policy and society, but neglect the ways ‘post-truth populism’ functions as a signifier in the dominant discourse (cf. Farkas, 2022). As a result, the role political elites and experts play in ‘post-truth politics’ is overlooked. The elitism prevalent in expert discourse about post-truth and populist politics may explain, at least in part, why experts and policymakers are subject to growing distrust; why they fail to effectively communicate their agendas to citizens; why they meet resistance; as well as why fake news and conspiracies resonate with (some) people even against a background of scientific facts disproving post-truth narratives (Venizelos & Trimithiotis, 2024). Finally, extremist forms of (right-wing) politics are grouped under the catchy notions of ‘populism’ and ‘post-truth’ that function euphemistically, downplaying the serious implications of reactionary politics for our contemporary society (Galanopoulos & Stavrakakis, 2022).

Adopting a critical ethos, this chapter shifts focus from the meaning of ‘populism’ and ‘post-truth’ to the way these two differential notions are articulated in public discussions and are brought together, forming relations of equivalence that construct the seemingly organic concept of ‘post-truth populism’. As such, the chapter argues that it is more productive to observe the language games around ‘truth’ and ‘populism’ and the ways elites employ them to dismiss challengers through rhetorical mechanisms of inclusion/exclusion.

The arguments and objectives outlined here unfold in four main sections. The first section reviews the notion of populism, understood mainly as a signifier in academic discourse; and highlights the profoundly anti-populist character of theorisations about populism. The aim here is to underline the premises within which anti-populist discourse reactivates and adapts to historical and political conjunctures including the (post-)pandemic era. The result is a reinvented and reified form of post-truth anti-populism. The second section scrutinises the dominant understandings of ‘post-truth populism’ by debating core assumptions about the phenomenon. These assumptions revolve around the moral status of truth, as well as populism’s supposed opposition to reason, rationality and science. The third section exemplifies the role dominant socio-epistemic structures play in naturalising knowledge that is accepted as objective and apolitical by the community. Highlighting the politicised nature of the debates on truth, this section proposes an epistemological reading of the populist/anti-populist polarisation that renders visible a distinction between elitist and counter-hegemonic attempts to produce knowledge. Finally, aiming to lead the debate on post-truth populism towards new directions, breaking away from stereotypes, the fourth section argues that one should move beyond a perspective that focuses almost exclusively on causality. Rather than viewing emerging technologies as determinants for the diffusion of post-truth, the section argues that the struggle over truth is salient in both historical and contemporary societies. Accepting this highlights that new technologies may render the polarisation between ‘truth-driven experts’ and ‘post-truth populists’ more visible—but they do not invent it. Rather than developing strategies to block post-truth claims—which seems, nonetheless, to generate more backlash—the chapter concludes that more reflexivity about the role experts play in this relational conflict on post-truth is required. Incorporating such a suggestion might be a good point to recalibrate the debate.

Populism, Anti-populism, Populist Hype

This first section focuses on the extensively researched and discussed notion of populism, examining it both as an academic concept and, above all, as a signifier in public debates. An overarching scholarly ‘consensus’ maintains that populism exhibits two omnipresent characteristics: people-centrism and anti-elitism. This operational definition, as it is referred to, captures the phenomenon in different cultural and historical contexts as well as in its different ideological and organisational configurations (Canovan, 1999; Laclau, 1977; Mudde, 2004). However, little else is agreed: the normative status of the phenomenon, its relationship with democracy and its impact on policy and society, all remain highly contested. The normativity that characterises discourses about populism reveals a remainder that escapes the operational consensus. Attempts to fix populism’s meaning slip—arguably, due to the epistemological (and perhaps ideological) foundations within which scientific discourse about the phenomenon emanates.

According to Bourdieu (1990), the meaning of ‘the people’ and ‘populism’ is principally articulated, and therefore constructed, in struggles between intellectuals. This means that populism is not simply an objective socio-political phenomenon with essential characteristics and meaning (i.e., a phenomenon with fixed causes, specific ideology, predestined positive/negative consequences on democracy/society and so on). Rather, ‘populism’ is also a signifier in public discourse. Pointing in this direction, Urbinati maintains that the struggle ‘over the meaning of populism turns out to be a debate about the interpretation of democracy’ (1998, p. 116). Her argument is exemplified by scholarly attempts to determine the ‘real meaning’ of ‘populism’ that often contradicts the supposedly neutral and open character of ‘the people’ and ‘the elite’. While, for some, people-centrism is connected with visions of homogenous societies, monism, anti-pluralism and illiberalism (Mudde & Rovira Kaltwasser, 2012; Müller, 2016), for others it is connected with processes of inclusion and incorporation of excluded sectors in the social, political and economic arenas, increased political participation and radical democracy (Mouffe, 2018; Venizelos & Stavrakakis, 2022). Similarly, for some, populism’s anti-establishment discourse might be understood as a threat to democratic societies in that it is interpreted as ‘hatred’ and ‘polarisation’ (Kets De Vries, 2020); while for others the scrutiny of political elites is seen as exercise of democratic agency and diagnosis of the flaws of democracy (Panizza, 2005). The way scholars theorise populist appeals to ‘the people’ and its opposition to ‘the elites’ is intrinsically connected with their perception of democracy. Some may view populism as an unmediated form of politics that disregards core aspects of liberal democracy (e.g. representation and consensus) (Worsley, 1969); while others view them as core dimensions (of radical forms of) democracy (e.g. participation and antagonism) (Laclau & Mouffe, 2014).

Critical populism research argues that the normatively charged character of discussions about populism outlined above, is rooted in three interrelated reasons associated with the excessive and uncritical use of the signifier ‘populism’ in public discourse. First, the ‘populist hype’: a notion that underlines the intensity, frequency and volume by which the notion of ‘populism’ appears in media, political and academic discourse on populism (De Cleen et al., 2018). Being a catchy term, ‘populism’ is often used strategically by editors to capture audience attention: it appears in headlines, but not necessarily in the main body of articles; and is used metaphorically or metonymically, loosely implying or explicitly creating connections between it and other negatively conceived social, political and economic phenomena (Brown & Mondon, 2020).

Second, anti-populism: a notion that denotes the quality of discussions about populism. ‘Populism’ is usually framed in pejorative—if not apocalyptic—terms, functioning as an overarching category postulated in opposition to democracy and pluralism (Stavrakakis, 2017; Stavrakakis, Katsambekis, Kioupkiolis, et al., 2017). Schematically, the polarisation between populism and anti-populism reveals a hierarchical taxonomy: at the top is anti-populism, which ascribes to itself a superior status often connected with higher forms of knowledge, education and technocratic expertise (Ostiguy, 2017; Voutyras, 2024); at the bottom is populism, which is given an inferior status and is connected with ignorance, irrationality and folksiness. As such, the elitist structure of anti-populism becomes apparent. In positing itself in radical opposition to populism, anti-populism delegitimises challengers to the status-quo by dismissing them as ‘populist’ (even if they cannot be classified as such based on the criteria that the field of ‘populism studies’ provides) (Galanopoulos & Venizelos, 2022).

Anti-populism constitutes a salient and recurring political logic that reinvents itself in a given politico-historical conjuncture. For example, during the 2007–2008 financial crisis, the label ‘populism’ was assigned to both anti-austerity movements on the left and xenophobic discourses on the far right. Despite their distinct ideologies, both radical left and radical right actors were denounced as ‘populist’—a label that denoted economic irresponsibility, demagogy, etc. In the COVID-19 pandemic, ‘populism’ was attached to anti-vax movements, science-scepticism, the mismanagement of the pandemic and post-truth politics, and linked with irrationality, conspiracy theories, etc (Venizelos & Trimithiotis, 2024). Such qualities broadly attributed to populism (as a homogenous concept) often constitute peripheral characteristics that are connected with some variants of populism—typically topologies that belong to the radical right of the spectrum (Stavrakakis, Katsambekis, Nikisianis, et al., 2017; Venizelos, 2023). In any case, they are neither constitutive nor exclusive of populism as a whole.

The common front against ‘populism’ resembles the horseshoe theory—according to which radical left and extreme right, rather than being at opposite ends of a linear continuum of the political spectrum, come to closely resemble each other (Voutyras, 2024). Arguably, the indiscriminate grouping of left and right under the notion of populism says more about the anti-populist camp itself—occupying the political centre in order to protect its established position—than its enemies (whose fundamental differences are collapsed under the homogenising label of populism).

A third key factor is the near-exclusive association of populism with the far-right. Especially in the COVID-19 conjuncture, a significant portion of scholarly work focused on cases of right-wing populism to test whether there is a connection between populism and post-truth (see Harsin, 2018). It affirms this connection (between populism and post-truth), and reifies a supposedly intrinsic relationship between the two. What such accounts fail to recognise, is that it is mostly radical right-wing variants of populism that are mostly connected with post-truth politics.

For example, Speed and Mannion (2017) seem to understand populism as a form of healthcare chauvinism. They claim that populists’ main concern is to secure healthcare access for natives only, protecting them from the ‘freeloading other’ who enters the country as medical tourist aiming to take advantage of its hospitals. However, a basic reading of Speed and Mannion's (2017) argument raises the question of whether populism, rather than nationalism, is a more fitting descriptor; since the process of othering they describe positions ‘the foreigner’ as the constitutive other and not some ‘illegitimate and self-indulged elite’ (see De Cleen & Stavrakakis, 2017; Venizelos, 2021). The authors are clear that ‘hatred’ is what lies at the core of the politics they describe—to the extent that they call it ‘discriminatory populism’. What they fail to recognise, though, is that they talk about a phenomenon that it is primarily characterised by nativism and only secondarily, if at all, by populism (Mudde, 2007).

Another example is provided by Michailidou et al. (2023, p. 63) who argue that ‘[t]he rise of populism, illiberalism and political extremism undermine the authority of the intermediaries of truth and encourage their adherents to search for their own facts against established media and journalism’ (emphases added). Assuming that discourse is not neutral or merely descriptive, but rather plays a critical role in constructing our very socio-political reality (Stavrakakis, 2017), it could be argued that placing ‘populism’ (without being further defined or subjected to typologies) alongside negative signifiers such as ‘illiberalism’ and ‘extremism’ plays a crucial role in constructing and reinforcing a definition of populism that is inextricably connected with such qualities. The aim here is not to downplay the implications of radical right variants of populism on democracy and society but, on the contrary, to highlight that ideology plays a determining role in this (Venizelos, 2023). Dominant discourse on populism fails to distinguish between diverse and multifaceted typologies of populism (left/right, democratic/reactionary, inclusionary/exclusionary and so on), ultimately collapsing xenophobic, authoritarian phenomena connected with anti-vax movements under the notion of populism. (As it will be further explored later in the chapter, left-wing populists embraced healthcare and science, thus having different impacts on public deliberation).

Overall, while scholars agree on the primacy of people-centrism and anti-elitism in populist politics, the normatively charged nature of the debate blurs conceptual boundaries and puts the operational consensus under stress. Taking into consideration the performative effects of language, it is argued that the systematic and persistent anti-populist articulations about populism naturalise its pejorative meaning (Stavrakakis, 2017). As such, ‘populism’ is conflated with phenomena that, although they resemble it, are conceptually distinct.

While the study of anti-populism might seem a niche and pedantic attempt of a few (critical) scholars to ‘restore’ or ‘correct’ the allegedly distorted meaning of populism, the relational status of populism and anti-populism, and their mutual constitution through a dynamic interaction, cannot be neglected. After all, identity presupposes difference. As such, according to Stavrakakis (2017), it is equally if not even more important to insist on studying anti-populism together with populism. Populist discourse neither emerges nor operates in a vacuum. The broader landscape of political antagonism between antagonistic camps and their bid for hegemony must be taken into consideration. This dynamic process involves, not only the populist actors seeking to mobilise support and advocate for a counter-hegemonic agenda, but also radically opposing anti-populist forces antagonizing the former (Stavrakakis, Katsambekis, Kioupkiolis, et al., 2017).

Consequently, more attention and reflexivity needs to be paid to the language games around the signifier ‘populism’. This means that one needs to shift focus from the essential meaning and supposed characteristics of populism to the way it is used in public discourse, and with what performative effects (De Cleen et al., 2018). Failure to understand this has significant theoretical and socio-political implications. As the following section highlights, grounded on the axiomatically anti-populist position in discussions about populism, a reinvented form of anti-populism that emerged in the (post) pandemic context understands populism in a quasi-organic relationship with post-truth.

Discourses About ‘Post-truth Populism’

This section of the chapter transfers the reader’s focus onto ‘post-truth populism’—or more precisely discourses about it. Following from the discussion laid out in the preceding section, and restating the core thesis of this chapter, it is argued that the articulation of ‘post-truth populism’ is intrinsically connected with the default anti-populist position of public discourse. Thus, what is new here is not necessarily the phenomenon of ‘post-truth populism’ but also the discourse that constructs it and simultaneously opposes it: post-truth anti-populism, which can be seen as a new paradigm of anti-populism.

The volume of academic work on ‘post-truth populism’ does not just highlight the growing interest in studying this supposedly ‘new political phenomenon’. On the contrary, it reinforces the connection between the notions of ‘populism’ and ‘post-truth’, ultimately bringing the two (differential) signifiers into relations of equivalence. According to Galanopoulos and Stavrakakis (2022, p. 25) ‘more and more arguments connect ‘‘post truth’’ and/or ‘‘fake news’’ with populism, and present both phenomena as mutually reinforcing pathologies of a perceived political normality’. This has both theoretico-scientific and socio-political implications: reducing political antagonism in an overly simplistic dichotomy between ‘facts’ and ‘lies’, creates obstacles in understanding the complex and heterogeneous phenomenon (that often draws on positivist/scientific data to structure its arguments) currently on the rise.

The task now is to delve into the definition of ‘post-truth anti-populism’ according to the relevant literature. As Conrad et al. (2023, p. 3) maintain in their edited volume, Europe in the Age of Post-Truth Politics: Populism, Disinformation and the Public Sphere, ‘post-truth is often defined as a mode of communication where a certain type of populist actor uses the infrastructure provided by social and other digital media to infuse the public sphere with mis- and disinformation’ (emphases added). The argument that post-truth is diffused by populists, right-wing politicians, commentators and influencers as well as activists, is also shared by Waisbord (2018) and Monti (2020) who argue that populists’ purpose is to castigate critical, progressive and democratic organisations. Overall, discourses about ‘post-truth populism’ reveal at least three overarching assumptions: (a) that the phenomenon posits itself against truth, facts and evidence; (b) that it is profoundly emotional rather than rational; and (c) that it constitutes a threat to science. These core claims will be critically evaluated in what follows.

Truth and Lies

The most obvious characteristic ascribed to ‘post-truth populism’ is, of course, that it downplays evidence, manufactures reality and, overall, attacks the moral authority of truth (Ball, 2017; D’Ancona, 2017; Davis, 2017). ‘Post-truth populism’ is linked with ‘indifference to factual correctness’ (Conrad, 2023, p. 84), ‘denial of facts’ (Ryoko Drávucz & Kocollari, 2023, p. 253), ‘false information’, ‘mis-/dis-information’ (Bergmann, 2018), ‘fake news’, ‘alternative facts’ (Speed & Mannion, 2017), ignorance and unsophistication (Brennan, 2022). According to Speed and Mannion (2017, p. 250) ‘[p]opulist politicians’ reliance on assertions that appear true, but have no basis in fact, creates a false view of the world’. This leads Fossum (2023, p. 31) to argue ‘the factual and evidence-based foundation of democratic politics is challenged by the rise of a particular species of populist politician and populist parties’.

Overall, truth is understood to have ‘lost its symbolic value’ as it is either ‘cynically manipulated or completely bypassed’ (Newman, 2023: 13–14). In the so-called age of post-truth, it no longer seems to matter whether politicians are caught lying openly and blatantly (Newman, 2023). Donald Trump constitutes a paradigmatic case in this regard. However, the important thing with Trump is, arguably, not that he lies, but that there are almost no repercussions. Thus, from a social constructivist point of view, it might be more important to move beyond a narrow and often misleading focus on facts and lies, towards an understanding of how claims denying truth are constructed and why they become popular, even against scientific evidence.

The discourse on lies reveals ‘a nostalgia for an age of facts’ (Van Dyk, 2022, p. 39). However, it is questionable whether such an era ever existed. After all, are lies foreign to our societies, and by extension, politics? Have societies always relied on one unquestionable truth? Drawing on Jacques Lacan’s (1966) notion of fantasy, nostalgic accounts mourning the sudden death of truth seem to fall into an essentialist trap where a supposedly ‘original state’ marked by the absence of disturbances and transgressions—in this context understood as lies—and defined by honesty, truth and good will, existed once and is now long gone.

‘Post-modernism’ is often blamed for relativising truth, reducing it, supposedly, to mere opinion (Ryoko Drávucz & Kocollari, 2023). However, post-modernism did not introduce relativism but pointed out the fluidity of meaning-construction. Putting the blame on ‘post-modernism’ fails to recognise the antagonistic core of society and politics and the hegemonic struggle entailed in them. Newman (2023) ultimately recognises that the relativisation of truth is not equated with the rejection of truth-as-a-whole. Truth is not merely a reflection of objective reality but something intrinsically connected with power. This leads to Foucault’s notion of ‘regimes of truth’, arguing that antagonistic systems of knowledge achieve hegemony in specific historic moments through operations bounded in the discourse/power nexus and as a result they end up being perceived as objective. As such, ‘to say that truth is historically or culturally constructed, and that it is bound up with power, does not mean that truth does not exist, but rather that there is no universal, overarching, absolute category of truth that stands outside history—or at least not one that has any real intelligibility or usefulness’ (Newman, 2023, p. 23).

Drawing (and in fact subverting) the core claim of the ‘pro-truth’ camp, what seems to be problematic is not only denying truth but also claiming it as a whole. Let us remember the famous statement of Jacques Lacan: ‘I always speak the truth. Not the whole truth, because there’s no way to say it all. Saying it all is literally impossible: words fail. Yet it’s through this very impossibility that the truth holds onto the real’ (Lacan, 1987, p. 7). Unmediated access to reality is elusive and unattainable; it cannot be fully symbolised or captured by language and representation. Thus, any attempt to claim the wholeness of truth resorts from and results in symbolic and fantasmatic constructions that mediate one’s experience.

Politics is based on the articulation of claims and master narratives that construct a world with coherent meaning. However, intellectuals require reflexivity and tentativeness when making bold claims on behalf of truth, in the sense that self-certainty entails the risk for closure. Failing to incorporate this element of caution not only risks overlooking the nuances of complex issues but also neglects the potential consequences of absolute certainty. Interestingly, when examining such discourse it becomes evident that it says less about anti-vaxxers or post-truthers and more about those who oppose populism. The consequences of unbridled self-certainty in political rhetoric extend beyond ideological clashes and truth wars, as they pave the way for authoritarian tendencies. Therefore, embracing a more reflexive and tentative approach is not just a scholarly virtue but a safeguard against the perils of dogmatism and its authoritarian potential.

Reason and Rationality vs. Emotions and Ignorance

‘Reason’ and ‘rationality’ seem to assume a central position in the debate on post-truth too. An array of pundits and scholarly publications betray this assumption—see for example Hoggan-Kloubert and Hoggan's (2023) text entitled Post-Truth as an Epistemic Crisis: The Need for Rationality, Autonomy, and Pluralism, and Hector's (2018) Rationality and post-truth—The threat to democratic society (see also Porpora, 2020; Gudonis & Jones, 2021). In fact, ‘reason’ and ‘rationality’ are often juxtaposed to post-truth, populism, fake news, etc., which are, in turn, presented as being in an equivalential relationship (Galanopoulos & Stavrakakis, 2022).

Emotions (as opposed to reason) are thought to constitute a core characteristic of populism and—apparently—‘post-truth populism’ as well. Populists spread fear, ‘stir emotions’ (‘especially negative ones’ such as ‘resentment’) and exploit them, negatively affecting political decision-making since sentiments overshadow facts and evidence. Political emotions are thought to be a relatively new phenomenon—‘a fundamental development of this era’ or at least something that is being ‘rediscovered’ in conventional politics (Ryoko Drávucz & Kocollari, 2023, pp. 250, 252).

Arguably, the exceptionalisation and demonisation of emotions are problematic. Emotion in politics is not new, and it is certainly not a discovery of populists, but a salient feature of politics, playing a core role in social agency, collective identity formation and political mobilisation and participation (Laclau, 2005). However, owning to the crowd theories of the previous century and the increasing ‘scientism’ of social and political studies, emotions were, for long, not considered a legitimate category of socio-political analysis (Cossarini & Vallespín, 2019). The ‘crowd’ or ‘the people’ were thus framed as a ‘hypnotised mob susceptible to manipulation’, while ‘collective action was almost equated with collective madness’ (Eklundh, 2019, p. 21). The demonisation of emotions via its association with populism is also evident in contemporary discourses about ‘post-truth populism’. Charismatic leaders are thought to exploit irrational voters spreading the populist mood (Speed & Mannion, 2017). In emotion-fearing discourses there is an evident persistence on intentionality (i.e. populists want to manipulate) which, at best, downplays the agency of ‘the people’ and the complexity of psychosocial dynamics embedded in political identification (Venizelos, 2022).

Emotions are conventionally juxtaposed to reason, structuring an artificial divide between normal and pathological, pragmatic and illusory, rational and irrational.Footnote 2 This distinction is also evident in critical political theorists like Newman (2023, p. 16) who argues that ‘[t]he model of rational deliberation between free and equal participants in the public sphere has been replaced by the Freudian image of the unthinking group, emotionally bound to its leader, which demands illusions and cannot do without them’. However, it is questionable whether a shared rationality exists (Mouffe, 1999). As such, rather than framing subjects as irrational it would be more productive to recognise the affective core of (political) identification and (social) mobilisation.

Against Science

Another key theme in scholarly discourse revolves around the assumption that ‘post-truth populism’ is anti-scientific in that it rejects the authority of experts. As Newman (2023, p. 13) puts it ‘scientific knowledge and expertise are openly disparaged by populist demagogues’. The cases of Donald Trump and Jair Bolsonaro quickly come to mind as key examples of (populist) politicians who bypassed experts, made consistently controversial statements about the pandemic and endorsed a number of conspiracy theories that have boosted grassroots mobilisations by anti-vax groups (Galanopoulos & Venizelos, 2022).

Drawing on such examples of (right-wing) populists during the pandemic, Speed and Mannion’s (2017) article entitled ‘The Rise of Post-truth Populism in Pluralist Liberal Democracies: Challenges for Health Policy’, argues that post-truth populism constitutes a threat to national healthcare systems. According to them, ‘populist policies’ are poorly designed and implemented and are, hence, dysfunctional. It is evident that right-wing populists (such as Trump and Bolsonaro) appeared ignorant, questioned science and measures to contain the spread of COVID-19.

But is ‘populism’ indeed anti-scientific? ‘Paradoxically’, anti-vax movements often use scientific arguments to structure their claims. Against this background Mede and Schäfer (2020) develop the notion of science-related populism, highlighting that populists do not just reject scientific knowledge replacing it with peoples’ common sense, personal and emotional narratives. On the contrary, Mede and Schäfer (2020) argue that science-related populism operates within the realm of science, as they use facts and have their own alternative experts to legitimise truth claims. Similarly, in Ylä-Anttila's (2018) empirical account, ‘populist’ discourses, actually, do not seem to embrace an ambivalent or relativist position towards truth as commonly suggested. Rather, they endorse radical scientism and profound positivism, drawing on ‘data’ and ‘facts’ to prove their point (see also Saurette & Gunster, 2011).

Arguably, populism’s juxtaposition to science has theoretical roots that can be traced back to Hofstadter’s (1955) vintage anti-populism, which viewed anti-intellectualism (among an array of other negative qualities) as the core defining feature of populism.Footnote 3 Similarly, Canovan’s (1999) position that populism opposes the established structure of power and dominant ideas and values of society, may be somehow applicable to the current conjuncture. Indeed, anti-elitism does not refer only to political and financial actors in the strict sense but, more broadly, extends its aversion to hegemonic norms (cosmopolitanism, political correctness, pro-vax views) as well as actors promoting them (intelligentsia, pundits, experts, scientists). Established hegemony is not solely political or financial, but cultural and scientific as well.

However, it is important to underline that aversion to cosmopolitanism, ‘political correctness’, vaccines, as well as the technocrats and professionals who promote them, can only be connected with populism as long as they are articulated in the name of ‘the people’ and against an ‘elite’. In other words, opposition to these ‘values’ alone does not suffice to define such a stance as populist. Such an arbitrary association is connected of course with the predominantly negative understanding of populism in public discourse—which will be analysed further down through the lens of anti-populism.

Another problem with framing populism (in general) as anti-scientific is that such a claim seems not to apply to left-wing typologies. During the COVID-19 outbreak many left populists had persistently advocated in favour of scientific guidance, respected and promoted governmental mandates to the degree that they often resembled mainstream political actors. Even more strikingly, in many cases they failed to provide a distinct narrative of their own, including potential criticism of the way extended measures have affected citizens’ democratic freedoms and rights (Galanopoulos & Venizelos, 2022). Consequently, it might be risky ‘to causally link different types of populism with impacts on health policy’ (Powell, 2017, p. 724). After all, it is debatable whether there is a specific set of policies labelled as populist. Rather, (populist) political actors communicate their policies in a populist manner, through the antagonistic pit of the people/elite, framing them as a matter that concerns the underprivileged majority, and simultaneously as an attack against a privileged elite.

Overall, the review of discourses about ‘post-truth populism’ performed in this section of the chapter, indicates that this ‘new phenomenon’ is understood in juxtaposition to truth and facts, reason and rationality and, subsequently, in the given (post-)pandemic conjuncture, to science as well. As such, ‘post-truth populism’ is understood to be an overly emotional phenomenon. These claims were debunked on both theoretical and empirical grounds. Theoretically, dominant claims were subjected to interrogation from a critical and post-structuralist point of view, questioning the status of truth as an inherent quality in politics as well as the supposedly alien place of emotions in it. Empirically, these claims were debunked through their juxtapositions with examples of progressive and democratic populist phenomena that do not share the (above) characteristics ascribed to ‘populism’ or ‘post-truth populism’, which ultimately seems to serve as a general category that aims to forcefully explain the current politico-historical conjuncture as a whole.

Expert Discourse, Epistemic Position, Knowledge Production

The divide between truth and post-truth, real and fake news, emotional populists and rational experts cannot be taken for granted. On the contrary, the epistemic position societal actors hold must be scrutinised, exemplifying the function dominant discourse has in constituting socio-political reality and antagonistic identities. As such, it is more productive to observe the language games that structure the debate on ‘truth’ and the rhetorical mechanisms that, through processes of inclusion/exclusion, claim it. In this sense, post-truth politics is at best relational. However, due to its status, prestige and privileged position, scientific knowledge is accepted as undeniable community knowledge. Therefore, dominant socio-epistemic structures exclude ‘other’ forms of knowledge. This is neither to dismiss science, nor to legitimise ‘alternative facts’ and conspiracy theories, but to highlight that knowledge is naturalised through a dynamic interaction between discourse and power.

According to Galanopoulos and Stavrakakis (2022, p. 409) ‘mainstream politicians and prominent members of the media and the academic establishment seem to claim a—neutral, allegedly non-political—epistemic superiority based on the possession of a (single) truth and on incarnating a supreme rationality’. Yet, what seems to be overlooked is that this allegedly objectivist stance disguised behind epistemic authority is, in fact, political in nature. According to Galanopoulos and Stavrakakis (2022, p. 415), again, ‘the debate over populism, post-truth politics and fake news on the one hand, and rationality, truth and politics based on facts and knowledge of experts on the other, essentially presupposes the transformation of political confrontation into a supposedly neutral epistemological debate around truth, thereby causing a series of concerns about the very essence of the political’.

In the post-Weberian paradigm science, scientists, and even laboratories, are believed to be apolitical in that they follow positivist rationality that is based on facts (Boschele, 2020). Indeed, politicians are very likely not to possess technical and scientific knowledge required to tackle emerging issues. During the COVID-19 pandemic, for example, scientists found themselves on the front stage of politics, assuming an even more central role in everyday public life than politicians. Politicians declared allegiance to science, claiming that the management of the pandemic strictly adhered to expert guidance. However, such a claim resembles Agamben's (2005) ‘state of exception’ in that political decisions, with significant implications for democracy, were made and normalised in the name of techno-scientism.

Notwithstanding the necessity of scientific advice, the interaction between elected political authority and assumed rational positions of appointed experts reveals inherent tensions. According to Boschele (2020, p. 2) ‘to rely on expert knowledge also means to legitimize people who do not get their authority politically from the sovereign people, but such authority derives from the allegedly (and yet often contested) objective position of their (experts’) disciplines’. In the age of neoliberalism, the monolithic and narrow culture of expertise transformed knowledge into a techno-scientific paradigm. Consequently, popular and participatory forms of knowledge production are dismissed as kitsch or folksy, revealing the elitist character of dominant epistemologies (Venizelos & Trimithiotis, 2024). As such, a hierarchical construction between knowledgeable (experts) and ignorant subjects (populists) becomes visible. The former have a privileged access to a kind of truth that is coded as superior, and the latter are denied access to it. The anti-populist polemic on ‘populists’ often takes a moralistic character.

The distinction between disbelief in facts and mistrust towards the experts upon whom knowledge is dependent might be proven particularly fruitful here (Popescu-Sarry, 2023). More specifically, opposition towards official communication might not be so much about the content of this information (e.g. about healthcare issues, climate change), but the actors who propose it—namely, epistemic authorities; as well as the way these actors position themselves against knowledge (e.g. as subjects possessing objective knowledge that is based on undeniable facts and evidence). In other words, populists of the radical right and anti-vaxxers may not necessarily oppose expertise in policy design altogether, but rather expert-led decision-making processes (De Cleen et al., 2018). The latter is thought to downplay the will of ‘the people’, while the primary role of experts is to generate knowledge and not to take political decisions. As Mede and Schäfer (2020, p. 479) put it, right-wing populists and conspiracy theorists ‘do not challenge the scientific epistemology per se—in fact, they are described as ‘pro-science’ […]—but that they see organized science as corrupt and want to replace it with alternative authorities and counterknowledge’. As such, it could be argued that the claims of ‘populist’ discourses are about decision-making sovereignty, and not simply about truth (Mede & Schäfer, 2020).

Mistrust towards expert authorities has been on the rise since COVID-19—but it is by no means a new phenomenon. Nevertheless, besides reactionary manifestations, opposition to technocracy was manifested by progressive and democratic movements against austerity (2011–2015). This reveals a broader logic characterised by a tension between ‘experts’ and ‘the people’. As such, the issue at stake might not be epistemic diagnosis but the position of authority from which it is articulated. The first relates to the identification of an issue through the lens of science and expertise. The second is related to the body that makes the diagnosis, as well as its mode of articulation. Such a formalist approach enables one to distinguish between elitist and (so-called) populist epistemologies pushing for hegemonic and counterhegemonic knowledge, respectively (Ylä-Anttila, 2018): the former was already defined above while the latter is thought to be based on the knowledge of ‘the common people’ and the proximity to everyday life, pushing for epistemological ordinariness (Mede & Schäfer, 2020). As such, the polarisation between experts and ‘populists’ might not be so much about ‘truth vs lies’ but about incompatible epistemological grounds. Epistemology is political in this sense, and operates on the vertical axis that juxtaposes elitism/anti-populism (from above) and anti-elitism/‘populism’ (from below): the former is represented by actors who are framed as privileged due to their access to resources and forms of life that are inaccessible to the latter, who perceive themselves as being sidelined and excluded from decision-making processes.

Thus, besides opposition to knowledge, ‘[r]ecognising that populist forces can establish their own relation with the production of knowledge, instead of treating them merely as irrational political agents, is a big step towards a better understanding of populism and its relation to post-truth and towards a more rigorous and self-reflexive politicized epistemology’ (Galanopoulos & Stavrakakis, 2022, p. 410). To be sure, taken at face-value, the relational understanding of epistemology risks elevating conspiracy theories, equating them to scientific knowledge. Far from being the aim, the key argument of this section is to scrutinise the logic through which established epistemic (elitist) knowledge that presents itself as rational and unquestionable becomes hegemonic.

Beyond Cause and Effect

Building on the deconstructive and reflexive ethos of what has preceded, a final argument put forward in this chapter is that to better understand phenomena that define our era, one should move beyond a causal understanding of these phenomena towards one that examines the way they are used in everyday social and political practices. Technological advances and their incorporation into politics, including the rise and dominance of social media, the decentralisation of information and the current prominence of artificial intelligence (AI) are commonly understood as key political challenges that need to be addressed in the post-truth era.

Therefore, some experts appear wary of the fact that ‘expertise is clearly widely distributed in society, with citizens expert in everything from restaurant reviews to medical advising’ (Speed & Mannion, 2017, p. 251). For Ryoko Drávucz and Kocollari (2023, p. 250), the ‘possibility of expressing multiple voices in the media is what sets the ground for post-truth’. It is true that such tools can manufacture information, as well as pictures and videos, generating material that is indistinguishable from ‘real’ and ‘authentic’ content. However, the above-mentioned preoccupation of experts with the decentralisation and production of information by users betrays a degree of demophobia, as it reveals ‘an elite anxiety about the consequences of political ignorance’ (Galanopoulos & Stavrakakis, 2022, p. 408).

Moreover, a causal approach is often accompanied by strategies to counter post-truth, including fact-checking, prebunking and debunking strategies as well as application add-ons that block or blur content from dubious sources. However, curbing the spread of post-truth can prove extremely difficult in practice, if not arbitrary, while it seems to generate resistance, if not backlash, from groups who perceive this as silencing or ‘cancelling’ (see Hameleers, 2023; Boukes & Hameleers, 2023).

Crucially, AI and social media do not necessarily cause post-truth. As Fossum (2023, p. 32) put it ‘[i]f structural changes are important sources of fake news, disinformation, and manipulation, then the rise of populism is hardly the only source of fake news and disinformation. If so, the irony in focusing on the most blatant manifestations of fake news as espoused by populist politicians is that it may detract attention from those factors that helped create such traits in the first place’.

Technology influences politics, but this does not mean that it determines it. The technological means that exist in a given conjuncture are products of historical conditions of possibility, embedded in material and immaterial power relations that overdetermine the way technology is used (Anastasiou, 2022). Given the high levels of contemporary global polarisation, digital technologies could radicalise and make more visible the pervasive antagonism of the political. The means by which counter-knowledge is articulated, subverting or perhaps distorting hegemonic norms, as well as the intensity with which this is done, may be different now. But the practice of demarcating between ‘truth’ and ‘post-truth’, one ‘worldview’ and ‘the other’, is not new. The persistent critique of such tools risks overlooking the inherent hegemonic struggle embedded in socio-political affairs.

It is important to note that these platforms are not limited to ‘populists’ but are also available to non-populists. For example, Barack Obama was recognised as a pioneer in incorporating them into his political campaigns; fact-checking teams suggest that both Russia and Israel (states that under Putin and Netanyahu are considered authoritarian and nationalist rather than populist) used AI to generate deepfakes and shape public opinion during their invasions on Ukraine (2022) and Gaza (2023) respectively (Eisele, 2023; Twomey et al., 2023). Finally, the twofold character of technology should not be neglected (Anastasiou, 2022). Besides reactionary actors such as anti-vax movements and conspiracy theorists during the COVID-19 conjuncture, with which digital media are connected, these mediums were employed by progressive and inclusionary movements aiming to enhance democracy through novel forms of political participation (2010–2012) (e.g. left-wing populism, square movements, etc.) (Gerbaudo, 2017; Venizelos, 2020).

Conclusion

This chapter interrogated dominant discourses about ‘post-truth populism’. While public discussions maintain that this is a new phenomenon that grasps the spirit of our times, the chapter argues, instead, that what is ironically new here is a novel typology of reified ‘post-truth anti-populism’. Put simply, the forceful connection between these two distinct phenomena—‘populism’ and ‘post-truth’—into a supposedly organic relation, is a product of a salient pejorative theorisation of populism. Problematically, public debates have placed enormous emphasis on an ill-defined notion of ‘populism’—often capturing a wide range of distinct phenomena ranging from the far-right to authoritarianism and from anti-vax conspiracy theories to fake news and post-truth politics. As a result, little attention has been placed on the other end of this polarising divide. Thus, the role of populism as a signifier in public debates, as well as the role of anti-populist elites, are overlooked.

The first section of the chapter provided a critical analysis of populism, not so much as an objective social and political phenomenon, but mainly as a signifier in dominant discourse. As such, it highlighted the predominance of anti-populism as the traditionally default position in any discussion about populism. Such a standpoint sets the premises for discussions about populism in the so-called post-truth era as well. The section argued that anti-populism is neither a new nor a static category, but a reactive one. In moments of economic, social, political and epistemological crises, ‘populism’ seems to be the term that experts use to make sense of opposition to the hegemonic norms and values of society. In previous historical and political conjunctures such as the financial crisis of 2008, ‘populism’ was connected with political discourses questioning the neoliberal establishment on both the left and right. In the (post-)pandemic conjuncture, it was linked with fake news, misinformation, science-scepticism and post-truth politics in general. The reactivation of anti-populism underlines a salient political logic defined by diachronic qualities such as an elitism, identified as a self-proclaimed superiority in terms of access to knowledge. Simultaneously, it dismisses its ‘other’—populism—connecting it with irrationality, ignorance and irresponsibility, framing it as a threat to democracy. Arguably, this says little about populism and more about the forces opposing it.

The second section delved into discussions about ‘post-truth populism’ that are pertinent to the post-pandemic conjuncture. The analysis reveals three overarching assumptions about ‘post-truth populism’: first, that it opposes truth; second, that it is overly emotional rather than rational; and, third, that it is anti-scientific. These claims were interrogated on both theoretical and empirical grounds. The assumption of an unmediated access to truth, and the existence of a universal rationality embedded in dominant discourses castigating ‘post-truth populism’, has significant implications. Such assumptions betray a fantasy of a coherent ‘big Other’ who guarantees an objective community knowledge as a whole and fails to recognise the at least partial or incomplete, as well as politicised, ‘nature’ of truth and reason. At the same time, the ostracism of emotions as a legitimate category of political participation and analysis, misses a core aspect of subjectivity-formation often embedded in complex and contradictory psycho-social dynamics.

A core objective of this chapter—performed in its third section—was to exemplify the role epistemic positioning and expert discourse play in the production of knowledge as objective. This is not to dismiss the importance of science, but to highlight the dynamics of knowledge production as being embedded in historical and political contingencies bound by the nexus between discourse and power.

To take future debates out of an insular focus on post-truth politics, the fourth section of this chapter argued that one needs to shift away from a causal understanding of social and political phenomena in such a practice. Technological advancements, such as the contemporary rise of AI, are usually thought of as determinants of post-truth. However, this chapter argued that the problem is not technology per se, but the way it is used. While technology decentralises information and allows for the manufacturing of content, it does not necessarily cause post-truth. Rather, it makes the historically omnipresent hegemonic struggle (over truth) more visible.

To conclude, this chapter sought to critique hegemonic accounts of ‘post-truth’ by exemplifying the often elitist undertone embedded in their dismissal of challengers’ claims on the basis of ‘ignorance’ and ‘unsophistication’, which are often treated as features of ‘populism’. Rather than dismissing science and expert knowledge, the purpose of this chapter was to modestly highlight the necessity for reflexivity and self-awareness.

In an age increasingly characterised by mistrust towards ‘the expert class’, the dominant techno-scientific paradigm of governance seems to be generating a backlash. This might not be solely connected with the denial of truth but with the rejection of those promoting it. As such, it might be more productive to move beyond a narrow dichotomy between facts and lies, towards an understanding of how claims denying truth are constructed and why they become popular—even against scientific evidence.