Post-Weird: Fragmentation, Community, and the Decline of the Mainstream

by Calum Lister Matheson

An ambitious look at rhetoric and psychosis that explores how communities form when society collapses

American society seems to have fractured. Common touchpoints of authority have receded in recent decades and beliefs that were once taboo are now openly shared, from neo-Nazism to occultism to conspiracy thinking. In this book, Calum Lister Matheson goes beyond the fraying of contemporary American culture to ask how splinter communities form in our current media environment, what keeps them together, and what they build from the ruins of shared language.

In his stirring exploration of how people communicate when old forms of authority and meaning collapse, Matheson examines far-flung groups that have departed the mainstream—Sandy Hook deniers, Appalachian serpent handlers, pro-anorexia bloggers, incels, transvestigators, pseudoscientific reactionaries, and more—and finds unexpected similarities among their many differences. Key among their parallels is the insistence that the symbols shared by each community represent a hidden truth that cannot be questioned or interpreted but is revealed through signs—words, images, videos, and texts. By documenting American fringe cultures, extremism, and the social functions of language, this book rethinks concepts like irony, psychosis, propriety, and what it means to be normal in weird times. 

188 pages, Kindle Edition

Published November 11, 2025

Reviews

[Kuu · Rating 3 out of 5]

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for this ARC!

Let's get the heavy part out of the way first:
As someone with psychosis (the real kind, not the kind discussed in this book), I have to say that Matheson's discussions of psychosis made me quite uncomfortable at times. I still powered through, intrigued by how he is going to use the "concept" of psychosis, but either way I have to say that it felt almost dehumanising at times to have my very real experience used as a "frame for analysis". While Matheson also cites a scholar who has personal experiences with psychosis (which did make me feel a little better, as he seems to at least also be listening to people with psychosis), I still cannot get over the feeling that my condition was used, divorced from its context and employed merely as a tool, fairly ignorant of the real consequences experiencing psychosis has for those who have the illness psychosis, rather than the analytical tool psychosis. His claims that everyone COULD be psychotic, and that that which is psychosis is more defined by which kinds of experiences are socially sanctioned (generally a view I agree with to some degree) did little to make it better. I wonder if there really was no better tool to use than appropriating psychosis for his analyses.
Also, while he insists that he does not aim to use psychosis in a derogatory way, I am not sure if "developing a theory of psychotic communication" to talk about groups such as pro-ana, transvestigators, incels, and school shooting deniers can be ever said to not further add to the stigmatisation of psychosis.
Similarly, the various descriptions of psychotic peoples' experiences in the book feel more like voyeurism, singling them out as the odd, fascinating other - so the anecdote of the psychotic man on the subway who ends up eating a dime, taking literally "a dime for a cup of coffee". Psychotic experiences, when featured, are very stereotypical, again feeling dehumanising and flattening of actual psychosis (he also, in the chapter on Serpent Handlers, mentions how they, unlike people with "individual psychosis" (the illness psychosis) are not fully divorced from reality as they still engage with media etc. Like, thanks, so do I?).

Additionally, Matheson, according to himself at the beginning of this word, is a rhetoricist, and, while having a background in psychoanalysis according to University of Pittsburgh's website, not a mental health expert (judging also from his list of publications). While I am also quite distrustful of how the wider psychiatric system treats people with psychosis, the fact he does not appear to even really know what he is talking about when constantly discussing the "ways in which psychosis works" feels incredibly disrespectful.

Furthermore, in several chapters I was not even really able to tell how his "psychotic communication" model actually related to the communities he was examining. In a chapter of several dozen pages, if only one page is dedicated at all, in any way, to a brief discussion of psychosis, I am not sure if you really needed this model in the first place, not gonna lie.

However, despite these criticisms, I found many of his actual discussions interesting. I still think that using psychosis as a rhetorical tool was not needed, but that does not mean that I cannot appreciate the way in which Matheson engages with various communities and takes them at face value, listening to what they say they do rather than trying to find a hidden deeper meaning to prove that actually, what they say they do is just a lie and ACTUALLY, THIS is the truth. Having personal experience with anorexia and having been in pro-ana communities during the worst of my eating disorder, that was the chapter I feel most qualified to comment on, and while I am only one individual, I feel like Matheson "got it right" to a degree that other theorising about these communities frequently fails to do, because they DO NOT LISTEN. As with the Serpent Handlers of Appalachia, the fact that the community is (interpreted to be) comprised of marginalised individuals (generally young women) most certainly plays a role in why people feel so ready to dismiss what they say about themselves and their community, and instead offer an alternate explanation, ignoring the members saying that actually, you're wrong and have no idea what you're talking about. Matheson did not seem to repeat this mistake, which was refreshing.

Still, the fact that the theory he (claims to have) based his analyses on is a) barely mentioned or employed for half of the book and b) based on what I, as someone experiencing psychosis, do experience as an ableist framework makes me rate this book lower than it otherwise would have been.

[Nikolaj · Rating 3 out of 5]

Thanks to NetGalley once again for providing a copy of this one in exchange for a review!

I always like to get the bad over with first - pull off the band aid and then get to the good bits, so to start, I did not like a lot of the rhetoric used in this one. Many of the points the author made were strong, but not always for the reasons he's discussing, and the way in which these points were discussed at times felt rather off-putting. It felt a bit too heavy-handed and insensitive in the discussion of mental illness, kind of like how people say, "Oh I'm so OCD because I brush my teeth twice a day and can't stand to see dirty dishes outside of the sink!" That's not OCD like this isn't psychosis. It's not a concept to be used to prove a point, it's a clinical diagnostic term used to describe a host of symptoms for a variety of conditions. There are far better arguments and concepts that can be used to prove the points in this book. Delusion does not equal psychosis, even if delusion is a part of psychosis.

That said, I think that the arguments raised and messages conveyed in this book are definitely interesting, and I will be thinking about it for quite a while after reading. There absolutely is a reason why people get involved in these communities and delusions that they do, and the issue is not only that these communities exist and become self-sustaining entities of a sort, but also that people feel more validated in such a toxic environment than they do in other areas of their lives. Like any radical movement, many of them become echo chambers in which the people involved are constantly validating one another, rather than challenging and growing from one another. The key to understanding these more radical communities is not to validate, exclude, or demonize, but to simply listen. Hear what they have to say in order to break down the delusion, so to speak, much like cult deprogramming.

Some of the presented cases are better described than others, as is the case with other books of a similar structure. Overall though, it's a thought provoking read that definitely merits discussion - honestly I think this would be a fascinating book to read for a book group (one that's very comfortable with talking openly with one another of course). Is it perfect? No. However, I would recommend it to those who enjoy speculative nonfiction topics that make you think.

Thanks again to NetGalley!

[Logan Kedzie · Rating 2 out of 5]

It's like Slavoj Žižek's Hillbilly Elegy

The thesis here is great. The Marx quote "Well, who ya gonna believe me or your own eyes" is the core.* Describe the history of cultural fragmentation in the contemporary United States as you like, the result is a prevalence of anti-rhetoric. In the fall of a consensus** structure to culture, the ethos of "do your own research" becomes a response.

As such, the way that we customarily talk has it backwards. It is the conspiracy theorist who has the "facts," and has sought out and processed their own information in terms of learning. It is the non-conspiracy thinker who is operating on belief. This functions as a recapitulation of the previously held consensus, largely through erasure of doubt by giving great amounts of meaning to things. To everything, without any question or room for debate (and thus no reason for the rhetoric to use in debate).

The twist here from other books about how we do not agree is the psychoanalytic approach. There is good and a bad thing about this. The good is that the book is taking the cultists on their own terms. It is not stupid or crazy, but any choice is doing something for them, and it is useful to look at that with psychoanalytic tools, looking to figure out what this sort of thing is doing for the believers, in the hope that provides better insight into the process.

The bad is the usual bad about psychoanalysis, which is that it is a walled garden, and at its best when talking about itself. The problems the book solves are the ones that the book creates. And the book uses this to explain with the DNC lost in '24?***

The majority of the book is a group of case studies of internet subcultures, looking to reconcile them into psychoanalytic terms. The major link seems self-created; to measure is to control as it were. Each of the studies has a 'b-side,' another related though different set of analysis to explain what is going on in the group and how that has greater meaning for understanding things.

These explorations do fit conceptually within the flow of the book, but not structurally. The best is the one from the Sandy Hook Deniers, where the book reconsiders how the idea of guns to the cult is understood. The worst is the Evangelical Snake Handlers, with its look at "Liberal Sadism" and making fun of people for making fun of the Evangelicals.**** There is something of an odd big-C conservative streak through the writing, down to it doing the New York Times Pitchbot-style equivocation.

Anyway, the problem is best described by the absence of any history in the section that looks to distinguish between science and science-y-ness in the context of scientific racism and sexism. In treating these fanatics on their own terms, the situation is to divorce it all from ideology and worldliness. This is intentional in the discussion of the anorexia supporters, since the book's theory is a refutation of sociological explanations for anorexia in place of a sort of spirit quest that happens to correlate with sociological forces.

It is a bunch of not not relevant motives and reasons, but it has a hard limit of what it can reach. And in a global sense, the absence of history makes me wonder if history is actually absent. Are we post-weird? We are all agreed that MAGA is anemoia, so how much of this is bias?***** The book is not interested because it is not the book's problem. Admittedly, what it says on the tin, but to be clear this is a useful book in a particular sort of way of approaching things.

The conclusion does a good job at explaining the thematic and functional similarities between the otherwise disparate groups, but the best it can do at a piece of advice is to iterate on the importance of the author's own discipline. And at worst it feels like the worst of Harper's Letter Pickmeism, an urge to a fictional middle.

So cool for what it is, but hyper-limited in what it is.

My thanks to the author, Calum Lister Matheson, for writing the book, and to the publisher, Rutgers University Press, for making the ARC available to me.

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* - That it is this and not Orwell's "[t]he Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears" is left as an exercise to the reader.

** - Or not consensus, in the sense that the book explains why it is not actually a consensus, but for our purposes here, it works.

*** - Of which all I will say is that is not the way that I remember it.

**** - It is an odd high horse because the book provides a much better solution for what is going on in its opening chapters on propriety and comedy.

***** - Okay, 'we' as defined by you, my audience, as I cannot imagine that you are reading this if you do not already agree.

[Sarah Jensen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Book Review: Post-Weird: Fragmentation, Community, and the Decline of the Mainstream by Calum Lister Matheson

As a sociology enthusiast and voracious reader, Post-Weird felt like stumbling upon a secret handbook for understanding the cultural undercurrents of our fractured age. Matheson’s exploration of how conspiracy theories, niche subcultures, and digital tribalism have eroded the “mainstream” left me electrified—and unsettled—in equal measure. This isn’t just analysis; it’s a diagnostic toolkit for decoding the surreal logic of modern belonging.

Intellectual Thrills & Emotional Resonance
Matheson’s dissection of “post-weirdness” (where fringe ideas metastasize into mainstream discourse) triggered a rollercoaster of reactions. I marveled at his ability to trace conspiratorial motifs from ancient myths to QAnon, recognizing eerie parallels to sociology’s classic works on collective delusion (Durkheim’s collective effervescence came to mind). Yet, his passages on algorithmic fragmentation—how our feeds engineer ideological silos—stirred a deep melancholy. As someone who cherishes the internet’s connective potential, I felt the loss of a shared cultural “center” acutely.

The book’s most provocative moments interrogate community itself: Can solidarity exist without consensus? Matheson’s case studies—from hyper-specific fandoms to apocalyptic prepper networks—left me questioning my own intellectual bubbles. His writing pulses with urgency, especially when linking these fractures to real-world consequences (e.g., eroded trust in institutions). I found myself pausing to scribble margin notes like, Is “weirdness” now the last refuge of authenticity?

Constructive Criticism
While Matheson’s theoretical framework is dazzling, I craved more ethnographic texture. As a reader who adores sociology’s human stories, I wanted deeper dives into lived experiences—interviews with meme-lords, deepfake artists, or Flat Earth converts to ground the abstraction. The focus on digital spaces also risks overshadowing material realities: How do class, race, or geography intersect with “post-weird” identities? A sharper intersectional lens could elevate its relevance for contemporary inequality debates.

Final Thoughts
Post-Weird is a revelatory read for anyone who senses the cultural ground shifting beneath their feet but struggles to name the quake. Matheson doesn’t offer easy solutions—he maps the fault lines, challenging us to navigate them with eyes wide open. It’s the rare academic work that feels both intellectually rigorous and strangely poetic, like Baudrillard meets Black Mirror.

Thank you to Rutgers University Press and Edelweiss for the free review copy. This book is essential for sociology lovers who relish works that unsettle as much as they illuminate.

Rating: 4.4/5 (A brilliant, if occasionally dense, field guide to our disassembling world.)

Note: As a reader, I appreciated Matheson’s refusal to dismiss “weirdness” as mere pathology. His empathy for the alienated and disenchanted echoes sociology’s finest tradition: understanding before judging.

[J Earl · Rating 4 out of 5]

Post-Weird: Fragmentation, Community, and the Decline of the Mainstream by Calum Lister Matheson offers an approach to understanding many of the groups that form around what we often call conspiracy theories. In better understanding them we can then work on making a society that can weaken some of the hold they have and limit the number of extreme groups of that sort.

This book is accessible but barely if you don't have some background in psychology (mostly psychoanalysis), philosophy, and rhetorical theory. Most of what a reader takes away, positive or negative, will reflect that reader's own areas of interest and areas of opposition (such as dismissing entire areas of therapy that have helped millions). Most readers will find a lot of information about the groups he examines and probably nod along with many of the assessments. It will be when you put the book down that you may find yourself forgetting what it was that connected a couple of your takeaways. Which means this is a book that will require at least a second read to grasp, or no further readings if you disagree with his ideas.

One of the things that Matheson's text reminded me of that is important to keep in mind when navigating today's (dis)information highway is this: rhetoric is only effective when everyone involved acknowledges that no matter how strongly you hold your opinion there is at least a possibility of an alternative being true. Thus using rhetorical devices to try to dissuade them not only doesn't work but can serve to make them more secure and confident in their positions because you obviously aren't privy to the special information and understanding they have.

For me, I was less clear on how exactly to use this information to make positive change in society. Some of Matheson's ideas are larger in scope than one single person wondering how to deal with a friend or relative who seems to have gone all-in with some conspiracy theory. That said, I think it was a good idea not to try to be too prescriptive since one size fits all solutions don't usually work well. It is up to the reader to work with the text to take the next step(s).

I generally don't do book report type reviews since so much of the power of an argument is in the nuance and what strikes me may not strike you, so I don't try to restate the argument in much detail. Books like this are really about what a reader takes away, so that is what I offer. I left critical essays behind when I quit doing book reviews for journals. I don't expect your takeaways to be the same as mine, but if you see the direction I went in my reading, you might see how the ideas might work for you. In other words, this is an exercise in taking all I can from a book and not in taking issue with minor points in the book just to show you how much I know.

Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via Edelweiss.

[Tia Morgan · Rating 4 out of 5]

In Post-Weird: Fragmentation, Community, and the Decline of the Mainstream, Calum Lister Matheson examines a cultural landscape where shared narratives and trusted institutions no longer hold the power they once did. Rather than framing the moment as simple political division, Matheson reveals a deeper unraveling of collective meaning, where isolated groups construct self contained worlds with their own logic, values, and standards of truth. These communities, often operating at the margins, feel deeply unified from within while appearing incomprehensible or even alarming to those outside of them. This is perfect for those interested in media studies and or cultural criticism. Thank you to Calum Lister Matheson for the reader copy all opinions are my own.

[Matthew Baxter · Rating 4 out of 5]

Calum Lister Matheson's Post-Weird is an excellent investigation of the conspiracism, internet-fed paranoia, and fanaticism that is shaping our world today. He shows us how these outsider (or perhaps once-outsider) communities understand the world through signs and symbols; how a unique cant is formed by each fringe community. A timely, important book.

We should all be concerned with this subject, given how conspiracy thinking has entered the mainstream in recent years and is warping public discourse in a way that will affect us all.