If Jews controlled the world

I have a modest, potentially unpopular, proposal.

The next time someone tells me Jews control the weather, I’m not going to argue.

I’m going to apologize.

“Sorry about the heatwave. Moshe’s covering Weather this week. He’s new.”

If they insist Jews run Hollywood?

“Believe me, we’re just as confused about the live-action remakes as you are.”

If they tell me Jews control the banks?

“I know. Whoever’s in charge of customer service should be fired.”

Maybe we’ve been approaching antisemitic stereotypes all wrong.

For generations, the Jewish response has been admirable, necessary, and entirely understandable. We educate, explain, document, and patiently dismantle myths that should have died sometime before the advent of indoor plumbing. We should continue doing all of that.

But perhaps we’ve neglected one of our oldest cultural weapons.

Humor.

Not because antisemitism is funny. It isn’t. But the conspiracy theories are.

According to the internet, Jews simultaneously control governments, banks, Hollywood, universities, elections, foreign policy, and – depending on which corner of the web you wander into – occasionally operate a weather machine.

That’s an extraordinary workload.

Frankly, I’d just like to know who’s assigning the shifts.

Maybe that’s the mistake we’ve been making. Conspiracy theories rely on grandeur. Their villains have to appear all-powerful, calculating, and terrifying. Humor strips them of all three.

Imagine treating antisemitic conspiracies the way you’d treat a dysfunctional workplace.

“I’m on Weather this weekend.”

“Global Finance still hasn’t approved my annual leave.”

“The Elders of Zion switched us over to Microsoft Teams. Productivity has collapsed.”

“That World Domination Committee really could’ve just been an email.”

Suddenly, the secret cabal sounds less like an omnipotent global network and more like a mid-sized accounting firm with dreadful middle management.

For all their hostility, antisemitic conspiracy theories are surprisingly complimentary. Buried inside almost every one is a weirdly flattering assumption: not just that Jews are intelligent. Not even that we’re successful.

That we’re extraordinarily organized.

This may be the least believable part.

I’ve met Jews.

Believe it or not, I’m actually one myself.

I’ve watched 12 Jews produce 14 opinions about where to have dinner before unanimously deciding nobody was really hungry anyway. I’ve seen what happens when six Jews try to split a restaurant bill. I’ve watched family WhatsApp groups spend three days trying to settle on a lunch reservation.

The idea that these same people have quietly coordinated world events for centuries without a single scheduling conflict, accidental reply-all email, or argument over parking is, if nothing else, wildly optimistic.

Imagine the first meeting of the Secret Jewish Council.

It starts 23 minutes late because parking was impossible.

Someone asks whether everyone’s eaten.

Someone else wants to postpone world domination until after the holidays.

Someone objects that the minutes from the previous meeting imply consensus where there was, in fact, simply exhaustion.

A subcommittee is formed.

Nothing is resolved.

Everyone leaves convinced it was a productive meeting.

That’s the thing conspiracy theories can never account for.

They require mythical people.

Jewish comedy insists on ordinary ones.

The mythical Jew never forgets a password.

The real Jew has been locked out of the family Netflix account since February 2024.

The mythical Jew orchestrates world events with ruthless precision.

The real Jew forgot why they walked into the kitchen.

The mythical Jew controls the world’s media.

The real Jew still can’t convince YouTube to stop recommending pressure-washing videos because they accidentally clicked on one three months ago.

The mythical Jew manipulates global opinion.

The real Jew can’t even stop their parents from forwarding emails featuring sunsets, inspirational quotes, and alarming medical advice.

Maybe that’s why Jewish humor has endured for so long.

It doesn’t deny hatred.

It denies hatred its mystique.

Every conspiracy theory depends on making its villains seem larger than life. Jewish humor drags them back down to earth, where they’re arguing over parking validation, complaining about Microsoft Teams, and asking whether anyone remembered to bring the babka.

There is a quiet kind of defiance in refusing to grant absurdity the dignity of fear. Tyrants have always feared comedians for the same reason bullies hate being laughed at: authority depends, at least in part, on appearing formidable. Once people start laughing, the spell begins to break.

None of this means we stop correcting lies or documenting antisemitism. Facts matter. History matters. But facts dismantle falsehoods.

Humor dismantles mythology.

Conspiracy theories need mythology far more than they need evidence.

So perhaps it’s time to reclaim a few stereotypes – not by believing them, and not even by arguing with them every single time, but by treating them with exactly the amount of dignity they deserve.

Besides, if Jews really did control the weather…

…Moshe’s got some explaining to do.