Many were far from happy with the idea of talking furniture. Perhaps the most critical voices came from clergymen who became convinced that the Devil was lurking in tables throughout the land. In 1853 the Reverend N. S. Godfrey took it upon himself to prove this by getting information straight from the horse’s mouth. Presenting the work in his book, Table Turning: the Devil’s modern masterpiece, Godfrey described a remarkable episode in which he had a group of table-tippers chat with their four-legged friend, and then asked the table if it contained an evil spirit.5 The table indicated that it didn’t. Realizing that the Devil would be less than straight with his answers, Godfrey asked for the good book to be brought forth. While the table was vibrating, the Bible was placed on its surface, and the moment contact was made with the tabletop the shaking suddenly stopped. Godfrey took this as a sign that the table might be possessed. It would be nice to think that after an hour or so of intense cross-examination the table eventually broke down and admitted all. However, never one to jump to conclusions, Godfrey asked two of his ecclesiastical brethren, the Reverend Gillson and the Reverend Dibdin, to replicate his experiment with different tables. When they obtained the same result Godfrey went public, denounced the phenomenon as the Devil’s mouthpiece and warned the public to distance themselves from the potential wooden menace lurking in their parlours and dining rooms.
The rather tiresome procedure of having to list the alphabet and wait for a reply eventually spelled the death of talking tables. Rather than fade into the metaphorical ether, Spiritualism did what it always did. It bowed to market forces and quickly developed a new and improved procedure for talking to the dead. To speed things up, people wrote the letters of the alphabet on small pieces of paper and arranged them in a circle on a table. They would then place their fingertips on an upturned glass and question the spirits. An invisible force would then push the glass from one letter to another as the spirits spelled out their replies. This new method of communication spread like wildfire, quickly resulting in several manufacturers producing commercial versions of the system, referred to as Ouija boards (most probably derived from the French and German words for ‘yes’). For a relatively small amount of money people could abandon their scraps of paper and upturned glass for a professionally printed board and little wooden platform on casters (called a ‘planchette’). From its introduction in 1891 the Ouija board proved an instant hit and soon formed a mainstay of parlour entertainment across America and Europe.
But as the public began to look for faster ways of chatting with the dead, the need for speed soon overcame even the Ouija board. The front leg of the planchette was eventually replaced by a pencil, and a piece of paper took the place of the Ouija board. People would again place their hands on the planchette, but this time any movement would result in the pencil writing directly on the paper. Suddenly the spirits could dictate messages to the here and now. After further experimentation it was discovered that even this system was an unnecessary burden, and that a small number of people could simply hold a pen or pencil, open their hearts to the spirit world, and receive messages directly from the deceased. This small band of communicators claimed that they were not consciously controlling their own hands, with several writers using this new system to indulge in so-called ‘automatic writing’, allegedly channelling religious texts, poems and prose from the spirit world.
By the 1920s the world had moved on and belief in Spiritualism fell into decline. The advent of radio and cinema meant that people no longer felt the need to spend their evenings waiting for a message from the dearly departed. This decline continued throughout the twentieth century and nowadays the small number of Spiritualist churches still in operation are usually run by a handful of elderly people who appear only hours away from discovering the reality about life after death.
During the heyday of Spiritualism thousands of people claimed to have contacted the dead via table-turning, Ouija boards, and automatic writing. Did their testimony represent compelling evidence of life after death, or is there a scientific explanation for these apparent spiritual intrusions? A small number of Victorian scientists were eager to examine the curious phenomena and discover what was really going on. Perhaps the most insightful investigation was conducted by a man who is now widely acknowledged to be one of the world’s greatest scientists.
Enter Michael Faraday, champion of the invisible.
One Day Sir, You May Tax It
Born in South London in 1791 to a family of modest means, Michael Faraday became fascinated by all things scientific at an early age. His diligence and curiosity soon caught the attention of leading scientist Humphry Davy, resulting in Faraday being given a position at London’s prestigious Royal Institution aged just 21.
Faraday worked at the Institution throughout his life, investigating a wide and eclectic range of topics. He invented the world-famous Bunsen burner, discovered that coal dust was the major cause of mining explosions, advised the National Gallery on how best to clean its art collection, and gave a series of popular public lectures on the science of the burning candle (‘There is no more open door by which you can enter into the study of natural philosophy than by considering the physical phenomena of a candle’).
He is perhaps best known for his ground-breaking investigations into the relationship between the invisible and mysterious forces of electricity and magnetism. After investing hours of bench time tinkering with various apparatus, Faraday’s breakthrough came when he bent a piece of wire into a loop, moved a magnet through the centre of it and discovered that the movement of the magnet induced an electric current in the wire. This simple demonstration revealed a fundamental link between electricity and magnetism and paved the way for modern-day electromagnetic theory. Albert Einstein was so impressed with the work that he kept a photograph of Faraday on his study wall as a source of inspiration. Ever the practical man, Faraday immediately set about exploring possible applications for his discovery, eventually creating a forerunner of a modern power generator. When William Gladstone, the British Chancellor of the Exchequer, heard about this newfangled device he quizzed Faraday about the practical value of electricity. Faraday famously replied, ‘One day sir, you may tax it.’
Faraday was also serious about his religion, serving as a lay preacher in an obscure offshoot of the Scottish Presbyterian Church known as the Sandemanians. His membership of the church caused him to refuse the presidency of the Royal Society and a knighthood on the grounds that he did not believe Jesus would accept such honours. He also turned down the government’s request to develop poison gases for the Crimean War on ethical grounds, and wouldn’t buy insurance as he believed it reflected a lack of faith. His religious beliefs may have also played an important role in his discovery of electromagnetism. Believing that one God was responsible for the world, Faraday was convinced that all of nature must be interconnected, including the apparently unlinked forces of electricity and magnetism.6
Given Faraday’s expertise in harnessing invisible forces and interest in matters spiritual, it is not surprising that he was drawn to table-turning. In 1852 he assembled a group of trustworthy and successful table-movers, and carried out a cunning three-stage plan that still stands as a textbook example of how to investigate the impossible.7
In the first stage of his investigation Faraday glued together a bizarre bundle of materials – including sandpaper, glass, moist clay, tinfoil, glue, cardboard, rubber and wood – and secured it to the top of a table. He then asked his participants to put their hands on top of the bundle and summon the spirits. The group had no problem moving the table, meaning that the materials used did not inhibit the work of the spirits. The experiment therefore gave Faraday a free hand to employ the bundle of materials during the second stage of the investigation.
Retreating to his laboratory, he set about constructing several strange bundles. Each consisted of five postcard-sized pieces of cardboard interleaved with small pellets of specially formulated glue that was ‘strong enough to maint
ain the cards in any new position that they might acquire, and yet weak enough to give way slowly to a continued force’. Faraday carefully positioned the bundles around the table, firmly attaching the bottom layer of each one to the tabletop, and drawing a fine pencil line down the edges of cardboard layers. Preparations over, the experiment began. His participants were each asked to place their hands on the top of a bundle, and then have the spirits move the table to the left. After a few moments the table started to shift. Simply by glancing at the bundles he’d prepared, Faraday was able to find the answer to the riddle of table-moving.
It was brilliantly simple. He had reasoned that if a mysterious force was truly acting on the table then the table would move before the hands of the sitters did. This would result in the lower layers of each bundle slipping under the upper layers, causing the displaced pencil line to slope from left to right. On the other hand, if the participants’ hands were responsible for the table movement then the upper layers of each bundle would move before the lower layers, creating lines that would slope from right to left. When Faraday examined the pencil lines the answer was obvious. Every line sloped from right to left, proving that the participants’ hands had moved before the table.
It seemed that Faraday’s participants were imagining the table moving and, without realizing it, producing the small hand and finger movements required to make their thoughts a reality. Because these movements were entirely unconscious the twists and turns of the table surprised them, and so were attributed to spirit agency.
Although convinced that he had solved the mystery of table-turning, Faraday realized that Spiritualists might argue that although the unconscious movements of the people around the table were responsible for some of the phenomenon, the spirits were playing a minor but still vitally important role in the movement. The only way of testing this idea would be to eliminate the movement of the hands and see whether the table still turned. Clearly, Faraday couldn’t simply ask his participants to stop pushing the table because they had no idea that they were moving it in the first place. A new experiment was required.
Faraday returned to his laboratory and created a second set of ingenious bundles. He now prepared two postcard-sized boards separated by four horizontally placed glass rods that allowed the top board to run freely. This ‘board – glass rods – board’ sandwich was held together with two large rubber bands. He attached the base of each bundle to the tabletop, and then pushed small metal pins into the sides of the top and bottom boards. Finally, a 15-inch-long stalk of hay was attached vertically to each bundle, with one pin in the lower board and another in the upper.
There was method to his madness. Faraday’s design meant that the stalk worked as a lever, with the top pin acting as a fulcrum. Any sideways movement of the top board, no matter how small, resulted in a large and obvious shift in the stalk. The bundles acted as a simple but highly effective way of amplifying the participants’ tiny hand movements, and so by asking them to keep the stalk vertical he could ensure that their hands were still.
Faraday brought his merry band of participants together again, and asked them to place their fingers on the top board and attempt to have the spirits move the table, but to try to ensure that the stalk remained vertical at all times. Try as they might, the group simply couldn’t budge the table. Faraday correctly concluded that their unconscious movements were completely responsible for the phenomenon, and any consideration of spirit energy was superfluous to requirements.
His findings, published in the Athenaeum magazine in 1853, met with a furious response from Spiritualists, with many claiming to be able to produce movement without touching the table at all. They were, however, strangely reluctant to travel to Faraday’s laboratory and demonstrate this under controlled conditions.
HOW TO TALK WITH THE DEAD: PART ONE
Running a successful table-turning session is a lesson in applied psychology. To ensure success, try the following ten-step procedure.
1. Choose the right table. Go for something that is about a foot square and two feet high. It doesn't really matter whether it has a round or square tabletop, or is supported by a leg at each corner or on a single pedestal. What does matter is that it tips easily. Test the table by placing your fingertips on the edge of the tabletop and deliberately trying to tilt it over. If it is difficult to budge, find another table.
2. Invite a group of between four and eight people to your house. It doesn't actually matter whether they believe in the afterlife, are agnostic, or completely sceptical. It is more important that they are out to have a good time together.
3. Arrange some chairs in a circle around the table. These seats need to be comfortable, and encourage people to sit forward rather than lean back.
4. Ask everyone in the group to take a seat and place their hands around the tabletop. Their hands do not need to touch their neighbours' hands, and they should rest their fingertips as lightly as possible on the table.
5. Lower the lights, turn on some music and try to establish a light-hearted atmosphere. Ask the group to avoid deliberately pushing the table but instead to focus on keeping their hands as still as possible. Try to get them to chat and joke rather than thinking about obtaining some kind of movement.
6. On a good night you will hear the table starting to creak after around 40 minutes. This is an initial signal that the effect is starting to work.
7. After another ten minutes or so you should get your first movements. If the table is unable to move because it is on thick carpet then it will tip violently and occasionally balance on one or more legs. The group should always try to keep their fingertips in contact with the table, but not prevent any movement. If the table can slide, it may well move around the room. Again, the group should maintain contact with the table and, if necessary, leave their seats and follow it.
8. Do not try to analyse the effect or figure out how it works. Instead, simply enjoy what is happening. Have people remove and replace their hands to see if one person is responsible for the effect. Feel free to ask the table questions and suggest that it answers by tilting or moving in a certain direction. Avoid any possible tears by not suggesting that you have contacted the spirit of someone who was known to a member of the group. Instead, go with contacting a famous, or even fictional, character.
9. If you don't get any creaking or movement after 40 minutes or so, ask everyone to try to will the table to move in a specified direction. It might also be helpful to get the group to try breathing in unison for a minute or so. If you still don't obtain any movement, secretly push the table. This often helps kick-start genuine unconscious movements.
10. At the end of the session, thank the group for participating and tell them that research has shown that the spirits may well follow them home and haunt their dreams for the rest of their lives.
Joseph Jastrow and His Amazing Automatograph
Faraday had shown that small unconscious movements were responsible for table-turning. Inspired by his findings, other researchers explored whether the same type of movements could also account for the curious behaviour associated with the Ouija board.
In my previous book, Quirkology, I described the work of one of my academic heroes, a turn of the century American psychologist named Joseph Jastrow. Jastrow carried out many unusual investigations during his career, including work into subliminal perception, the dreams of blind people, hypnosis, and the psychology of magic. However, Jastrow was especially fascinated by the supernatural, and in the 1890s conducted a series of ground-breaking experiments into the Ouija board using a rather strange piece of apparatus called an ‘automatograph’.8
The principal part of Jastrow’s automatograph consisted of two glass plates, each about a foot square, separated by three ‘well-turned brass balls’. The bottom plate was attached to the table while the top plate was free to move. Participants placed their hand on the top plate, where even the slightest of hand movements would cause the plate to roll on the balls. To record any movement a pen
was attached to the top plate. A sheet of paper, blackened with lamp soot, was placed under the pen, so that any pen movement would be recorded. The paper was then ‘made permanent by bathing it in shellac and alcohol’. Like Faraday, Jastrow had constructed a system capable of recording the smallest of movements.
In a long series of experiments, Jastrow hid the recording pen and paper from participants and then asked them to imagine doing three things – making certain movements, looking at different objects around the room, or visualizing a specific part of the room itself. Although the participants didn’t realize it, just thinking about a certain direction or location was enough to produce an appropriate movement on Jastrow’s glass planchette. Just as Faraday had uncovered the mystery of table-turning, Jastrow had revealed that the same process could account for the movement of the Ouija board. People using such boards were not talking to the dead and communing with the Devil. They were chatting to themselves.
Subsequent research has revealed that these strange movements, known as ‘ideomotor’ actions, are not confined to table-turning and Ouija boards. In the 1930s, for example, American physician Edmund Jacobson wanted to discover how best to get people to relax.9 He asked volunteers to think about various subjects while sophisticated sensors monitored the electrical activity in their muscles. When Jacobson asked his participants to imagine lifting their arms the sensors revealed small but real activity in their biceps. Thoughts about lifting heavy weights produced even greater muscle activity. When they were asked to imagine jumping high into the air their leg muscles suddenly showed signs of responding. The phenomenon was not just confined to the body. When the participants imagined the Eiffel Tower their eyes moved up and when asked to recall a poem their tongues moved. Just like Faraday’s table-turners 70 years before, Jacobson’s participants had no idea that they were making these small movements.
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