14
The Witch-Hunters
In the United States, as in Israel, the anti-Geller witch-hunt
began almost as soon as he arrived on the scene, and its stated
purpose was identical: not to submit Geller to any kind of serious
scientific study, but to save society from him.
Its early days were well witnessed at close quarters by John L.
Wilhelm, a Time reporter and the author of The Search
for Superman (1976). He named the chief hunters as Martin
Gardner, a columnist for the Scientific American, amateur
magician, and outspoken critic of anything he considered to be
bogus or deviant science; the magician James Randi; and Wilhelm's
(then) colleague Leon Jaroff, the magazine's science editor who
later became editor of the Time-Life publication Discover.
'For Martin Gardner and the others in his magic circle, the issue
of Uri Geller is a deeply moral one,' Wilhelm wrote in his book,
quoting Gardner as declaring: 'Belief in occultism provides a
climate for the rise of a demagogue. I think this is precisely
what happened in Nazi Germany before the rise of Hitler.' He gave
Wilhelm the impression that he thought it was about to happen
again.
Stefan Kanfer, author of Time's March 1974 cover story
on 'The Psychics' was even more candid. According to Wilhelm,
he believed that 'SRI should be destroyed' for having carried
out research of any kind into paranormal matters. 'That's the
way fascism began.'
Wilhelm soon discovered that separating legitimate criticism of
Geller from 'the barrage of debunkers' moral outrage' was just
as hard as evaluating the claims of his supporters. 'Regrettably,'
he wrote, 'both sides argue on the basis of strong personal bias.'
Randi, for example, rejected the evidence of Puthoff and Targ
at SRI out of hand although he had not observed any of their experiments
himself, 'I don't believe this kind of thing can happen if there
are strict conditions,' he said.
The bugle-call that heralded the official start of the American
witch-hunt was the Time article of 12 March 1973 by Leon
Jaroff, and the circumstances under which it came to be written
give some idea of the lengths to which the hunters were prepared
to resort. On completing their research with Geller at SRI, Puthoff
and Targ wrote on 28 December 1972 to Gerard Piel, publisher of
the Scientific American, to ask if he was interested in
printing their findings. A copy of this letter found its way somehow
or other to Jaroff, as did a copy of the informal report to the
Department of Defense by Ray Hyman, which he had written after
his visit to SRI and also sent to his old friend Martin Gardner
at the Scientific American. (I have been reliably informed
that Gardner was not personally responsible for the report reaching
Jaroff.)
At this time, according to Wilhelm, the 'circuit' consisting of
Gardner, Randi, Jaroff and others 'rings continuously with the
latest Geller goings-on, trading news clippings on Geller as kids
trade baseball cards'.
Wilhelm provides further insights into the origins of the American
witch-hunt. On 18 January 1973, he told Geller that Jaroff had
already decided that he was a fraud, and had even made a bet on
it. This was before Jaroff had ever seen Geller. The two met for
the first time on 6 February, in the Time-Life building in New
York.
Randi also met Geller for the first time on that day, and his
published comments on the event are confusing, to say the least.
On the one hand, he found Geller's telepathy demonstration 'the
saddest, most transparent act I've ever seen', yet according to
Wilhelm he found Uri 'extremely clever' and 'a good magician'
with 'a beautiful routine'. Randi later admitted, in his book
on Geller, that he had a copy of Hyman's letter to Gardner in
his pocket at the time.
The crusade to save America from the menace of the occult took
on new impetus with the founding in 1975 of the Committee for
the Scientific Investigation of Claims of the Paranormal (CSICOP)
by psychologist Paul Kurtz and sociologist Marcello Truzzi. Founder
Fellows included Gardner, Hyman, Jaroff and Randi, in addition
to those enthusiastic reviewers of Randi's anti-Geller book, Isaac
Asimov and Carl Sagan. CSICOP's promotional literature for its
journal included this:
Are you curious about claims of paranormal phenomena such as
the Bermuda Triangle, precognition, UFOs, ancient astronauts,
astrology, Bigfoot, astral projection, psychokinesis, cold reading,
pyramid power, water witching and the like? . . . these and other
similar interests are waiting for you to explore in the Skeptical
Inquirer. This dynamic magazine . . . is bold enough to investigate
carefully the extraordinary claims of true believers and
charlatans of the paranormal world. Its findings are sometimes
humorous, often sobering, always fascinating.
Of themselves, the Committee had this to say:
The more serious-minded among us are starting to ask what is
going on. Why the sudden explosion of interest, even among some
otherwise sensible people, in all sorts of paranormal 'happenings'?
Are we in retreat from the scientific ideas of rationality, dispassionate
examination of evidence and sober experiment that have made modern
civilization what it is? In the past, the raising and answering
of such questions has been left to commentators and journalists.
This time around, however, some scientists are beginning to fight
back.
CSICOP's first major attempt at careful investigation of an extraordinary
claim was a total disaster. The claim was that of the French psychologist
and professional statistician Michel Gauquelin, according to whom
there was a statistically significant correlation between successful
people in various walks of life and the position of the planets
at the time of their birth. The extraordinary story of how CSICOP
carried out a follow-up study, came up with results similar to
Gauquelin's, initially failed to report them and eventually pretended
that this had never been an official CSICOP project was spelled
out in full detail by one of its own members, astronomer Dennis
Rawlins, in the October 1981 issue of Fate. His skilful
debunking of the debunkers led, not surprisingly, to his resignation
from CSICOP, and also to the defections of some of its more active
and influential members, such as the late Richard Kammann and
the veteran British psychical researcher Eric J. Dingwall.
Long before then, co-founder Marcello Truzzi had left to found
his own journal, the Zetetic Scholar. (Its first issue
in 1978 included a most valuable 'basic bibliography' of Geller,
listing 192 items.) Later, he founded his own research group,
the Center for Scientific Anomaly Research (CSAR), and soon won
the respect of many of those whose claims he investigated. Although
he has assured me personally that he is a sincere non-believer
in psychic powers of any kind, he has shown that civilized co-operation
between sceptic and believer is possible.
CSICOP, on the other hand, soon resorted to methods of a kind
hitherto unknown in any kind of scientific research, reaching
some remarkable standards of 'dispassionate examination' in the
process. Randi, for whom the pursuit of Geller became something
of a personal crusade, invaded scientific laboratories, newspaper
offices and parapsychology conferences wearing a variety of disguises,
claiming to be a spoon-bender and mind-reader and attempting to
deceive a number of individuals who were wholly unprepared for
such behaviour. He toured the United States giving lecture-demonstrations,
a regular feature of which was his 'I can do what Geller does'
routine. In 1981, he launched the annual 'Uri Awards for Parapsychology'
for what he considered 'the silliest and most irrational claims
in relation to the paranormal'. Originally sponsored by Omni,
they were taken over by Discover but have now been discontinued,
no doubt as a result of the 1983 fiasco associated with them to
be described shortly.
Randi even managed to sabotage a research programme by infiltrating
a pair of young magicians, Steve Shaw and Mike Edwards, into the
parapsychology laboratory funded by the late James S. McDonnell,
a pioneer of the aerospace industry. There, as described in the
Skeptical Inquirer (Summer 1983), they tried for nearly
two years to trick the researchers into proclaiming them genuine
Geller-type psychics. Randi revealed his hoax, dubbed 'Project
Alpha', at a news conference in January 1983 sponsored by Discover,
and in 1985 the laboratory was closed.
The public was encouraged to believe that since parapsychologists
were so easily hoaxed, none of their claimed findings should be
taken seriously. Then the inevitable happened: Randi and Jaroff
were themselves taken for a ride. Shortly after Project Alpha's
termination, the newsletter of a small Minneapolis research group,
The Archaeus Project, announced that a fund of $217,000 had been
set up for a metal-bending research programme under Archaeus director
Dennis Stillings, to whom gifted subjects should apply.
The newsletter was a fake, as Stillings made clear in his own
news release. No such award had been made. Stillings printed just
two copies and sent them to Shaw and Edwards, confident that they
would promptly reach Randi. They did.
On 1 April 1983, a Discover news release signed by Randi
had this to say about one of his Uri Awards:
Funding Category. To the Metronics Corporation of Minneapolis,
who gave $250,000 to a Mr Stillings of that city to fund the Archaeus
Project, devoted to observing people who bend spoons at parties.
Mr Stillings then offered financial assistance to a prominent
young spoon-bender who turned out to be one of the masquerading
magicians of Project Alpha - a confessed fake.
Stillings could not believe it. Not only had Randi fallen for
his bait - hook, line and sinker - but he had even managed to
make a total of four mistakes in his brief news release: the non-fund
had been increased from $217,000 to $250,000, the Medtronic Corporation
had nothing to do with it at all, and was misspelled into the
bargain, and Stillings had not 'offered financial assistance'
to Shaw, Edwards, or anybody else.
To drive home the point that magicians can be fooled as easily
as any other group, Stillings promptly did it again. An investment
broker named Reid Becker wrote to Randi implying that some of
his clients were somewhat concerned to hear of Medtronic's involvement
with psychical research, and requested further information. Randi
replied with the extraordinary allegation that the naming of Medtronic
had originated from Stillings, and suggested that Becker should
contact him for clarification.
He had no need to do this, for it was Stillings himself who wrote
the 'Becker' letter, on clumsily faked notepaper. He concluded,
in his report on 'Project ROTSUC' ('Randi Ought To Sell Used Cars'):
Project ROTSUC was designed as a simple, inexpensive two-hour
exercise in replicating the original experiment of James Randi
(i.e. Project Alpha). We find the implicit conclusion of Project
Alpha confirmed, namely: that some, perhaps all, people can be
fooled for shorter or longer periods . . . Now that we know this,
what are we going to do with it? I suggest that we all start behaving
like civilized human beings . . .
What, many will be asking, has all this kind of thing to do with
'scientific investigation of claims of the paranormal'? Proving
that people can be fooled is hardly necessary, since everybody
who pays to attend a magic show already knows this. Proving that
people other than Uri Geller can bend spoons by sleight-of-hand
does not constitute proof in itself that he uses sleight-of-hand.
As William James wrote, in the American Magazine (October
1909):
If we look at imposture as a historic phenomenon, we find it
always imitative. One swindler imitates a previous swindler, but
the first swindler of that kind imitated someone who was honest.
You can no more create an absolutely new trick than you can create
a new word without any previous basis. You do not know how to
go about it.
James was referring to the physical phenomena of the Victorian
seance room, such as table-tilting, but his words apply equally
well to individuals such as Geller. Many conjurors have imitated
him, but whom was he imitating the first time he bent a spoon?
I will return to this question later. First, I must pursue my
inquiry into the possible motivations of some of the more prominent
members of CSICOP.
These become somewhat easier to understand if we regard the organization
as a political rather than a scientific one, linked to the American
Humanist Association by way of psychologist Paul Kurtz, a member
of its board of directors and editor of its journal, The Humanist.
Humanism is a perfectly respectable philosophical movement dating
back to the Renaissance, in which attention is focused on man
and his potential abilities and away from theological or spiritual
matters. In the United States, it has its roots in the writings
of such social reformers and critics of the American way of life
as Felix Adler and Irving Babbitt. The first humanist manifesto
was published in 1933, and reissued forty years later, with a
preface by Kurtz. Affirmation Fourteen reads as follows:
The humanists are firmly convinced that existing acquisitive
and profit-motivated society has shown itself to be inadequate
and that a radical change . . . must be instituted. A socialized
and co-operative economic order must be established to the end
that equitable distribution of the means of life is possible.
Neither Marx nor Engels could have put it more plainly, though
while the American Humanist Association stands for much that the
ideological fathers of communism stood for, it must be stressed
that it does so quite legitimately, and there is no suggestion
that it has ever behaved in an undemocratic or subversive way.
The fact that it survived much attention from Senator McCarthy's
infamous Committee on Unamerican Activities is, in my view, to
its credit.
All the same, the most cursory of glances through the pages of
The Humanist shows that it has consistently attacked anything
that can be seen as a deviation from classical Marxist materialism,
sometimes using the kind of language employed by Pravda when
referring to capitalism. Targets have included religions of all
kinds, from traditional Jewish cognitive wisdom (Vol. 22 No. 1,
1962) to Zen Buddhism (Vol. 19 No. 6, 1959). The magazine has
even managed to lay down a humanist party line on quantum mechanics
(Vol. 19 No. 1, 1959), insisting that it does not lead to any
change in materialist concepts of nature. As for parapsychology,
in an article on the late Professor J. B. Rhine (Vol. 15 No. 4,
1955), it referred to his department at Duke University as a 'Super-Scientific
Institute of Raciology' and gave the clear impression that the
pioneer of academic parapsychology was mentally deranged. (Time
went even further in its anti-psi diatribe of March 1974,
printing Rhine's picture under the heading 'A Long History of
Hoaxes' and alongside a photograph of the Cottingley Fairies.)
Suspicions that CSICOP no longer had any real interest in the
scientific investigation of anything at all were raised at its
1983 conference, held in Buffalo, New York. As reported by a friend
of mine who was present, there was an interesting exchange at
question time between Kurtz and Dennis Rawlins. Rawlins wanted
to know where all the money flowing into CSICOP from its journal's
18,000 subscribers (at $16.50 each) was going, now that its original
research activities seemed to have ceased altogether. After some
delay, Rawlins was told that all of it (nearly $300,000) went
on producing the journal and organizing conferences. 'This', my
friend commented, 'was patently absurd.'
It is a minor absurdity, however, compared with the principle
that seems to underlie the actions of CSICOP and its parent body,
the American Humanist Association: that widespread interest in
the occult leads to fascism. It is true that the Nazis made clever
and successful use of traditional magical ritual, symbolism, and
propaganda with mystic overtones, but they came to power mainly
by efficient organization and brute force. Interest in occult
matters is widespread in West Germany today, yet there are no
signs of any serious fascist threat in that country. It is also
widespread in the rest of Western Europe, notably in Iceland,
where would-be dictators will have a hard time seizing power since
the country has no armed forces at all, other than its celebrated
gunboats.
On the other hand, it may be no coincidence that the longest-serving
dictator of this century, Enver Hoxha of Albania, banned all forms
of religion altogether. One cannot escape the suspicion that CSICOP
and the humanists would like to do the same, to judge from some
of the published material I have mentioned. Serious occultists,
at least those of my acquaintance, devote their energies to an
exploration of any path that might lead them to a better understanding
of the mysteries of nature, life and creation. The fact that many
such paths lead to dead-ends is no excuse for not exploring them.
However, if the humanists had their way, all such paths would
be off limits.
The professional sceptic is for ever assuring us of his open-mindedness.
Martin Gardner has written, 'Modern science should indeed arouse
in all of us a humility before the immensity of the unexplored
and a tolerance for crazy hypotheses.' He has shown no sign of
either, indeed he has written a popular book, Fads and Fallacies
in the Name of Science (1957), in which he tramples on every
alternative hypothesis, crazy or not. Stefan Kanfer, author of
the Time cover story of March 1974 already mentioned, ended
his six-page diatribe against parapsychology with a ringing call
for a 'thorough examination of the phenomena by those who do not
express an a priori belief'. One wonders why he did not attempt
this himself.
It is ironic that while the humanists and CSICOP do their best
to wipe the paranormal from the face of American society, the
state of affairs in many communist countries is quite different.
There is considerable interest in parapsychological matters in
the Soviet Union and the Slavic countries of Poland, Czechoslovakia
and Bulgaria, and to a lesser extent in Hungary and Romania. There
has recently been a major explosion of interest in China as well.
(Marcello Truzzi, who visited China and reported on its psychic
scene quite fairly, was told off in public at a recent CSICOP
meeting for even going there to look at what was happening!)
Soviet researchers have developed an entirely new scientific discipline,
that of heliobiology, or the study of the influence of solar and
cosmic radiation on biological systems. Its widespread acceptance
and official approval has led to an interest in subtle interactions
of all kinds, whether they be electric, magnetic or psychic. They
have changed the terminology, preferring 'bioinformation transfer'
to telepathy and clairvoyance, 'biophysical effect' to psychokinesis
and 'extrasensor' to medium or psychic. They reject any suggestion
of a spiritualistic interpretation of any of these, but they accept
the facts and study them as enthusiastically as do their colleagues
in the West, as I can testify from first-hand experience.
Bulgaria is the only country in the world known to have a state-run
parapsychology research institute. It also had a state-run clairvoyant,
a blind lady named Vanga Dimitrova, who died in 1985. A special
hotel was built in her home town of Petrich, near the Greek border,
to accommodate visitors. On arrival there they were presented
with a sugar lump, which they were told to put under their pillows
at night. When their turn came for a 'reading' from Vanga, they
would hand it to her, and she would press it against her forehead
for a moment, then embarking upon a detailed account of her client's
past, present and future. She was studied for several years by
Dr Georgi Lozanov, director of the Research Institute for Suggestology
in Sofia, who unfortunately has not made his findings public.
He gave little away when I met him for an hour's polite chat,
except to make it clear that he regarded her clairvoyance as genuine,
an opinion confirmed by every Bulgarian I met during a visit to
that intriguing country.
Poland's Psychotronic Society, with 4,000 members, is the largest
of its kind in the world. During the lecture I gave at its 1983
conference in Warsaw I counted more than 800 heads in the audience,
the largest number I have ever seen at an event of this kind.
During one of the breaks a young Polish medical doctor startled
a group of us by diagnosing the past and present physical conditions
of everybody at the table without any kind of examination or even
any questioning.
Czechoslovakia has a long tradition of interest in nonmaterial
matters, which continues to this day. At a conference held in
the smart new Trades Union Congress headquarters in Bratislava,
also in 1983, I gave a talk on Victorian table-tilting, after
which I was besieged by delegates from several Eastern bloc countries
for more information - and immediate practical instruction. They
wanted to go back to our hotel and get a table off the ground
there and then. A young Soviet scientist told us that he had already
attended table-tilting sessions back home, where such things seemed
to be regarded as a normal weekend pastime.
In the Soviet Union, at least two individuals have made public
careers out of their psychic abilities in much the same way as
Uri Geller has done in the West. The late Wolf Messing brought
telepathy and clairvoyance to every corner of the country with
his stage performances, and his role was taken over after his
death by one of his admirers, Tofik Dadashev, of whom Western
visitors to a 1973 conference in Prague were allowed a brief and
tantalizing glimpse.
In the course of many meetings with Soviet and East Europeans,
most of them professional research scientists, I have never come
across doubts as to the existence of psi phenomena. Their attitude
can be summed up as: 'There's something interesting going on.
Let's find out what it is.' On the other hand, a widespread attitude
in the supposedly free Western world is: 'There's something dangerous
going on. Stamp it out.'
Mud sticks. After fifteen years of the kind of debunking of which
I have given several examples, it has become widely accepted that
Uri Geller has been unmasked as a fraud. I have been assured of
this personally by many who should know better, most of whom could
not recall the source of this information. They seemed to remember
reading it somewhere . . .
Geller has never been proved fraudulent. Nor has he ever been
proved to have genuine psychic abilities beyond any reasonable
doubt. It is possible that it never will be proved either way,
and I suspect this is the way he likes it.
There was a time when scientific proof of a new hypothesis was
a fairly straightforward procedure. You set up a controlled experiment,
published your results, and waited for somebody else to repeat
them. In recent years, some important new discoveries have been
accepted very quickly, such as the structure of the DNA 'double
helix' molecule, and the 'Josephson Effect' that contributed to
the fastest technological revolution in history. Nobel Prizes
were handed out to their discoverers in a very short time, once
it was clear that nobody was going to disprove their claims.
Why was no prize awarded to Puthoff, Targ, or anybody else for
the discovery of the Geller Effect? There are many reasons, the
most important being that nobody can be sure exactly what this
effect is. All that can be said with near certainty is that when
Geller enters a laboratory, strange things are likely to happen.
Nobody can expect a prize for announcing this. As Targ put it
in his and Harold Puthoff's book Mind-Reach (1977), 'in
the world of science no one at all cares what we think possibly
may have happened. "Possibly" is not good enough.'
We cannot expect the human mind, the most complex thing in the
universe, to behave as predictably in the laboratory as a microchip
or a strand of DNA. Any experiment involving supposed psychic
ability of any kind involves at least two minds: those of the
subject and the researcher. If there is such a thing as psychic
power, we can reasonably expect that it will be influenced by
very subtle stimuli, and will only operate when conditions are
exactly right. We can also expect that the researcher will be
making use of it during the experiment, whether consciously or
not. Moreover, it is almost inevitable that no psychic experiment
can be repeated, since neither subject nor experimenter will ever
be in precisely the same state of mind on more than one occasion.
One persistent critic of Parapsychology, Professor C. E. M. Hansel,
declared in a 1983 television interview, 'If anybody was telepathic,
they should be able to quite easily demonstrate the effect to
anybody. I would be completely satisfied by just talking to the
person for a few minutes and asking him to say what I was thinking
of.' Such an argument (from a professor of psychology, moreover)
is nonsensical. Suppose that we applied it to, say, falling in
love at first sight? What would happen if we took a man and a
woman off the street, placed them in front of each other and ordered
them to develop an immediate and lasting passion for each other?
In many cases, this would not happen. Yet there is no lack of
testimony, from those who should know, that people have fallen
in love at first sight and remained together until parted by death.
The fact that many people have had no such luck is irrelevant.
Likewise, there is no lack of evidence for the existence of what
are called psi phenomena: telepathy, clairvoyance, precognition
and psychokinesis. As William James remarked in the essay already
quoted, written the year before he died after a lifetime of first-hand
observation of a vast amount of well-documented phenomena of this
kind:
The first difference between the psychical researcher and the
inexpert person is that the former realizes the commonness and
typicality of the phenomenon, while the latter, less informed,
thinks it so rare as to be unworthy of attention.
There are other reasons, as I have indicated, why inexpert persons
choose to reject the positive evidence for the existence of psi
phenomena. The anti-psi community can be divided into honest doubters
and 'inexpert' doubters. The former quite reasonably consider
the phenomena to be inherently so improbable that they require
exceptional evidence before they will consider them. The 'inexpert'
doubters are not prepared to concede that the phenomena could
exist, since there is no place for them in the model of reality
they have chosen to adopt. Therefore, any evidence that they do
exist must not be considered even theoretically possible, it must
be destroyed.
As Artur Zorka put it, there is a contradiction here, and Uri
Geller brought it into sharp focus. On the one hand, we have a
long list of well-qualified professional scientists who study
him in their laboratories and conclude that, at the very least,
he is worth further study. On the other hand, we have the dishonest
doubters who have not examined him at all, and have decided that
even attempting to study people like him is out of order.
Three centuries ago, Johannes Kepler warned his fellow astronomers
not to 'throw out the baby with the bathwater' when dealing with
astrology, 'the step-daughter of astronomy'. 'The belief in the
effect of the constellations derives in the first place from experience,'
he wrote, 'which is so convincing that it can be denied only by
people who have not examined it . . . That the sky does something
to man is obvious, but what it does specifically remains hidden.'
However, the truth could be found if one looked for it, just as
'the persistent hen will find the golden corn in the dung-heap'.
This is the attitude shared by the great majority of today's professional
parapsychologists. I have met most of them, and I have yet to
meet one who is unaware of the vast amount of dung that has been
strewn over the field ever since research into it began more than
a century ago, not only by the fraudulent mediums and psychics
but by some equally fraudulent researchers. These have at last
been debunked in their turn by the historian Brian Inglis, whose
well-documented book The Hidden Power (1986) reveals that
almost every 'unmasking' in the history of psychical research,
from Daniel Home to Uri Geller, has been carried out not by persistent
hens, but by ruthless baby-killers.
It is worth mentioning here that both of the two major scandals
of psychical research of recent years were revealed by members
of the community without any help from the professional sceptics
and debunkers. A member of the late Dr J. B. Rhine's staff was
caught fiddling a computer in order to produce spurious data and
was promptly thrown out by Rhine himself, who equally promptly
made the facts public. It was Betty Markwick, a member of the
Society for Psychical Research, who produced the evidence that
finished off the reputation of the late Dr S. G. Soal, author
of some telepathy research once considered to be classic. Her
findings were immediately published - by the SPR. One cannot help
wondering if organisations such as CSICOP serve any useful purpose
other than the satisfaction of its members' lust for blood. The
psychical research community has shown that it can handle its
black sheep without any help from them.
Several examples of fraudulent debunking of Uri Geller have been
given in this book, both by me and by him. The rest of them would
fill another book, and the fact that he has survived them is strong
evidence for both the genuineness of his abilities and the falsity
of the charges made against him. I will give one final example
of the depths to which his attackers have sunk in their efforts
to finish him off.
As I have already described, attempts were made to debunk the
first serious research involving him, that of Harold Puthoff and
Russell Targ at Stanford in 1972, even before it was published.
As I have shown, they were made on a basis of hearsay, unfounded
assumptions, and unauthorized use of private correspondence. The
research was first made public on 9 March 1973 in the form of
a film entitled Experiments with Uri Geller, shown at a
public meeting at Columbia University. By then, the issue of Time
dated 12 March and containing the offensive and inaccurate
diatribe entitled 'The Magician and the Think-Tank' was already
at the printers.
Once the research was out in the open, James Randi set about attacking
it in his book, The Magic of Uri Geller. Not content with
denigrating the characters of Puthoff and Targ and dismissing
in toto their research - none of which he had witnessed
himself - he turned, in a later book, Flim-Flam, to the
professional photographer who had made the film, a Stanford employee
named Zev Pressman, with an extraordinary series of unfounded
allegations.
Pressman's name, said Randi, had been added to the film 'without
his knowledge or permission'. Part of the film was of a 'reenactment',
and one whole segment 'is now known to be a restaged and specially
created one'. Pressman 'knew nothing about most of what appeared
under his name, and he disagreed with the part that he did know
about'. The objects of unnamed Stanford staff members were based
on 'Pressman's revelations about his part in it' (i.e. the film).
These quotations are from Flim-Flam, the subtitle of which
- 'Psychics, ESP, Unicorns and other Delusions' - suggests a difficulty
in distinguishing between babies and bathwater.
If true, this would be a very serious matter and Pressman would
be guilty of complicity in deliberate fraud. But it was not true.
Pressman flatly denied all of Randi's allegations in two public
statements, neither of which was even mentioned in the 1982 reissue
of the book. 'I made the film,' said Pressman, 'and my name appeared
with my full knowledge and permission . . . Nothing was restaged
or specially created . . . I have never met nor spoken to nor
corresponded with Randi. The "revelations" he attributes
to me are pure fiction.'
'Are we in retreat from the scientific ideas of rationality, dispassionate
examination of evidence and sober experiment that have made modern
civilization what it is?' the founders of CSICOP asked in their
promotional literature. Their own behaviour sometimes suggests
to me that we are indeed.
Randi is at his most accurate when describing himself. 'I'm an
actor playing a part, and I do it for the purpose of entertainment,'
he said in the PM Magazine television interview of 1 July
1982. His role as scientific investigator was not one of his successes.
If I were to adopt the research methods of the psi-cops, I would
have no difficulty in producing the following scenario, most of
which is untrue and based on smears and assumptions:
As is well known, one of the purposes of the Soviet Committee
for State Security (KGB) is to undermine Western society. It has
frequently done this by infiltrating legitimate protest or dissident
groups and using them for its own purposes, often without the
knowledge of group members. What would be a more obvious target
for penetration than the Humanist Association, many of whose members
are known Marxists? What would be more convenient than to set
up a publishing house to publish the propaganda of the Humanists
and their CSICOP sub-agents? (Sample titles: Atheism - The
Case Against God, Ethics Without God, The Problem of God, Sex
Without Love.)
Why go to so much trouble and expense to discredit the whole field
of parapsychology? To distract attention from the real work that
is going on at somewhere like the tightly-guarded Institute for
Cosmic Biology at Khodinsk airfield just outside Moscow, of course.
Or one of those off-limits laboratories in Akademgorodok in Siberia,
or Alma-Ata in Kazakhstan.
The above scenario (which, I repeat, is malicious nonsense) could
be rewritten to 'prove' that the Central Intelligence Agency and
not the KGB is calling the psicops' shots. A well-known parapsychologist
recently announced in public that eight years after one of his
projects was completed, he learned that the money had originated
from the CIA. The Company is just as good at this kind of thing
as its Soviet counterpart, both of which know that anybody suggesting
anything like the above will be denounced as a paranoid witch-hunter.
Allegations of CIA or KGB involvement would be denied in all good
faith by CSICOP officials, as they were in the 23 June 1985 issue
of the Sunday Times after columnist Henry Porter had mentioned
them. If CSICOP was being manipulated by any intelligence organization,
it would be the last to know.
Again, let me repeat that most of the above four paragraphs is
nonsense. I include it merely as an example of how 'careful investigation'
of the kind favoured by CSICOP could be used against them.
When criticizing Geller, anything goes. Even Reader's Digest
prefers magicians' allegations to scientists' testimony. In
its book Mysteries of the Unexplained, we are told that
Uri's feats 'have now been largely dismissed as fraudulent'. Tracking
this unsupported statement to its sources, I found them to be
a pair of magicians. One was quoted at second hand (from The
Humanist), while the other, Milbourne Christopher, claimed
that Uri used a palmed magnet to stop watches - something
he has never attempted to do. Why should we believe anything else
Christopher (or any other magician) alleges?
Fortunately, the entire case for the existence of useful and hitherto
unexplained faculties in human beings does not rest solely on
Uri Geller. As William James put it, these are both common and
typical. Everything Geller has ever claimed to do has been done
by others, although nobody has yet claimed to do all of them,
or to do any of them with quite as much panache. So, before presenting
some evidence and conclusions of my own, I will devote a chapter
to the recent activities of some of the others.
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