by Joe Nickell
SEARCHING FOR PSYCHOKINESIS
In my reopening of the Seaford matter I was faced with a very cold case, yet I had the full police report to work with and, of course, my professional background as a magician and mentalist, a private detective, and—since 1969—a ghostbuster.
My starting point was the realization that natural causes were effectively ruled out, leaving two competing hypotheses: first, a paranormal claim involving supposed psychokinesis, and, second, a nonparanormal possibility (what I have called the poltergeist-faking syndrome). Both hypotheses accept Roll's assertion, “There is little doubt that [James] was instrumental in bringing about the incidents in his home.” The disagreement is over Roll's further assertion, “It also seems clear that he was unaware of this” (Roll and Persinger 2001, 130). In other words, we must ask, did James cause the “poltergeist” events by inadvertent psychic force or by deliberate deception? In examining the evidence I used a number of strategies, as follows.
Track the central figure. As we have seen, the events in question centered around young James. He was not only in the house during each of the events (while other family members were often absent), but, as Pratt acknowledges (1964, 113), “the disturbances took place nearer to James, on the average, than to any other member of the family.” For example, “a globe of the world came bouncing into the living room from the boy's room” when he was in his room (though found in bed) (Tozzi 1958, 21). On occasion, James was the first to arrive on the scene of some disturbance (e.g., Tozzi 1958, 17), or, in fact was frequently the only one present when an event did occur.
Focus on the disturbances. Whenever James was at school or elsewhere (the family stayed with relatives for several nights), there were not only no disturbances in the house, but the supposed “poltergeist” or unconscious psychokinetic force did not follow the boy (Tozzi 1958, 15; Pratt 1964, 109). In other words, the mysterious events would occur only at James's home and then only when he was present. Was this because he was on familiar territory, where he could best carry out his secret actions, and possibly because he had some family issue that provoked his rebellion? In fact, psychological tests administered to the children revealed, in James's case, “passive demandingness, hostility to father figures, impersonal violence, and isolation of affect [emotion].” One psychologist “thought the boy felt on the one hand protected and tenderly cared for, but on the other hand oppressed and held down.” When he was asked to make up stories, one “concerned a boy who is ‘living with a guardian whom he hates,’” while “in another a father accuses his son of being ‘a liar or a cheater’; the son fights him and is killed” (Roll and Persinger 2001, 128–29).
Consider the “clandestine effect”—the way the secret agency that caused the disturbances seemed not to want to be caught in the act. They invariably happened when no one was nearby, or when James was behind a possible observer, or the person had looked away from him, or the like. When police specially placed some previously disturbed objects (secretly dusted with a fluorescent powder) and asked family members not to touch them (in hopes of subsequently detecting the powder on a prankster's hands using an ultraviolet lamp), those particular bottles were never disturbed again (Tozzi 1958, 9, 10), suggesting the prankster suspected a trap. Moreover, when publicity brought numerous strangers into the house (parapsychologists, reporters, etc.), “the poltergeist activities ceased,” according to Pratt (1964, 85), who thought it was because that “completely changed the psychological atmosphere”; was it instead because the increased presence made it more difficult to act unobserved?
Examine the nature of the disturbances. Pratt (1964, 113) observed: “The occurrences were not randomly scattered throughout the house,” but, once again, were associated with James and his activities. More objects were disturbed in James’ room than anywhere else (Roll and Persinger 2001, 129). Also, Pratt suggested that “some pattern can be discerned in the kinds of objects that were disturbed” (1964, 113). He divided these into two types (1964, 105), of which I make three: (1) “bottle poppings” and (2–3) “displacements of furniture and household objects.” In each case the movement of the objects suggested simple trickery such as a boy could effect.
First, the bottles had screw tops that could not (experiments showed) pop open; they required unscrewing (Pratt 1964, 105–106), which I suggest could be achieved more easily by a human hand than by psychic force. Christopher (1970, 158–59) demonstrated that the bottle openings that apparently occurred remotely could be accomplished by opening a bottle somewhere unobserved, then later surreptitiously making a noise (such as a knock with the knuckles) while directing attention toward another room—what magicians call misdirection. As bad as eyewitnesses are, earwitnesses may be even worse. On occasions, people in the Herrmann home thought sounds came from one place, say the basement, when an object was subsequently found disturbed elsewhere, such as in James's room (e.g., Tozzi 1958, 17–18). Pratt (1964, 101) says of one incident that “the noise itself was not sufficiently well localized to establish definitely that it had come from the unfinished cellar rather than from the bathroom where James was at that time.”
Second, the displacement of furniture was very closely related to young James and generally went unwitnessed by anyone else. The first such large item was the dresser in James's room, which fell on February 23, while the boy claimed he had his back to it (Tozzi 1958, 18). It fell again the next day, reportedly when “James Junior was coming up the cellar stairs” (Tozzi 1958, 20). However, Newsday reporter David Kahn was at the home, and parapsychologist Roll asked if Kahn could verify that James was indeed in the cellar at the time: “Mr. Kahn replied that he could not so state; by the time he reached the hallway, James was standing in the hall looking through the open doorway into his bedroom” (Pratt 1964, 96–97). Additional disturbances involved a picture over James's bed that twice fell while he was in his room alone, a portable phonograph in the basement that crashed while James was the only one there, a lamp on James's night table that fell, whereupon, as his father ran to the room, the table itself twisted and fell, while James was lying in bed and “appeared very frightened,” and so on (Tozzi 1958, 22, 24, 35). Roll blithely noted that the “energy” causing the disturbances “was less strong at a distance” (Roll and Persinger 2001, 128), whereas I would postulate that heavier objects required James to be nearby so he could physically move them.
As to small objects sent flying—an ink bottle, figurines, a bread plate, and so forth—these were as easily dispatched as they were available. The cap of the ink bottle was unscrewed and the bottle sailed from the dining room into the living room, splashing its contents around. Mrs. Herrmann was on the phone at the time, with James “right next to her” (Tozzi 1958, 13). I suspect that, as she was distracted by the call, James was just out of her sight and easily managed to toss the bottle. Small objects would have permitted James to use a simple trick I alluded to earlier: secretly removing an object from its usual location, then later throwing it from a secure vantage point. For example, the small metal horse (mentioned earlier) that was tossed from behind Tozzi had probably been picked up by James from “the cellar stair shelf” as he followed the detective down the steps.
There were also some minor incidents that can be classed as miscellaneous. On an early occasion (February 16), James “complained twice that it felt like someone had stuck him in the back with a pin” (Tozzi 1958, 5). Also, there were a few noises that occurred without objects being disturbed. For instance, on March 9, when James was in bed, a dull thump was heard from the direction of his room, although nothing was found displaced. About five minutes later, there was a louder thump, which caused all the adults present to make a search. States Pratt (1964, 100), “Lucille, still in bed, said it came from James's wall just as if he had hit it with his fist or elbow. I asked James to do this and he was able to nearly get the same sound.” Yet Pratt does not pursue the implications of these incidents, which he regarded as “trivial.”
CASE CLOSED
Had the prolonged tantrum simply run its course? Or had something dramatic occurred—such as the “poltergeist” having been caught in flagrante delicto, but the fact kept hidden within the household? Either way—and there is no justification for proposing unconscious psychokinesis as a cause—the case clearly demonstrates yet another example of the poltergeist-faking syndrome.
As my more than four decades of investigations illustrate, not a single ghost has ever been validated by science.
Despite the understandable impulse to believe in survival of consciousness, the fact remains that once the brain is dead, brain function ceases, and the phenomena on which worldwide belief in spirits rests has other, simpler explanations. This is notwithstanding the enthusiastic but misguided approach of would-be ghost hunters and “sensitives.”
As the late psychologist Robert A. Baker observed (1995, 275), ghosts only exist “within the human head, where they are produced by the ever-active, image-creating human mind.” As with other alleged paranormalities, belief in ghosts is sparked by our deepest hopes and fears, and so is worthy of our serious attention. That is why I decry alike the mystery-mongering approach of those who hype belief in ghosts and the dismissive, debunking attitude of others. As R. C. Finucane (1984, 1) sagely observed in his Appearances of the Dead, “Even though ghosts or apparitions may exist only in the minds of their percipients, the fact of that existence is a social and historical reality: the phenomena represent man's inner universe just as his art and poetry do.
Thus we can be sympathetic to the impulse to believe in spirits of the dead while nevertheless recognizing such belief as a superstition that we can overcome. I hope others will share with me the desire to investigate claims of ghosts and hauntings—for what they can tell us about ourselves—and embrace the continuing evidence that we live in a real, natural world. “No ghosts,” as Sherlock Holmes insisted (in “The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire”), “need apply.”
Altered state of consciousness. As defined in B. Wortman and Elizabeth F. Loftus's Psychology (1981, 613), an altered state of consciousness is “any qualitative alteration in mental functioning, such that a person feels that his or her consciousness is distinctly different from the way it functions.” A dissociative state is an example.
Apparitional experience. Many “ghosts” are perceived as apparitions, that is, ghost sightings. Often they are merely a waking dream that occurs in the interface between wakefulness and sleep. Other dissociative states, like daydreaming, can also produce ghost sightings, whereby the spectral image wells up from the subconscious and is superimposed onto the visual scene. The evidence that many ghostly perceptions are so derived is well established. For instance, Haraldsson (1988) specifically found that sightings of apparitions were linked to periods of reverie. And Andrew Mackenzie (1982) showed that in one-third of hallucinatory cases he examined, the incidents occurred to percipients just prior to or following sleep, or while they were in a relaxed state or performing routine work or concentrating on some activity like reading. The relationship between apparitional states and a dreamlike state was also observed by G. N. M. Tyrrell (1973). He noted that apparitions of people appear fully clothed and are often accompanied by objects, just as they are in dreams, because the clothes and objects are required by the apparitional drama.
Channeling. The supposed communication with such “higher beings” as angels, spirits, extraterrestrials, or the like—allegedly in an altered state of consciousness, such as a dissociative state—is called channeling. When it is not done as a deliberate deception, it is usually found to be an expression of fantasy proneness.
Clairvoyance. The supposed “seeing” of objects, people, or events through extrasensory perception (ESP). (With telepathy it constitutes one of the two main categories of ESP.) The term is French for “clear seeing.” “Psychics” reportedly using clairvoyance (or clairaudience [“clear hearing”] when voices or other sounds are perceived, or clairsentience [“clear sensing”] when involving smell, taste, or other sensations) often claim to experience ghostly phenomena (Guiley 1991, 109–13). However, clairvoyants typically exhibit fantasy proneness, and all forms of ESP remain scientifically unproved. (For a specific case, see Nickell 1995, 61–63.)
Confabulation. A distortion of memory, in which gaps in one's recollection are unintentionally filled in with fictional experiences (Goldenson 1970, 1:249). Thus, someone's relating of a paranormal experience, especially one of long ago, may be partially confabulated. (See also “memory distortions.”)
Contagion. Such simple phenomena as waking dreams, sleep paralysis, and out-of-body experiences can be transformed into ghostly encounters. The mechanism is what psychologists call contagion—the spreading of an idea, behavior, or belief from person to person by means of suggestion (Baker and Nickell 1992, 101). Historical examples of widespread contagion (often incorrectly termed “mass hysteria”) are the Salem witch craze of 1692–1693, the spiritualist excitement of the nineteenth century, and the modern ghosthunting fad. Today contagion is hugely aided by the mass media.
Déjà vu. Among the most common of anomalistic experiences is the phenomenon known as déjà vu (French for “already seen”). It is a strange feeling of familiarity, such as arriving at a never-before-visited site but experiencing the sensation of “having been here before.” Often, it is accompanied by the feeling that one knows what is to happen next. The brief experience then passes. Although often claimed as proof of reincarnation (see “past-life recall”), psychic phenomena, or spiritualistic information transfer, psychologists usually attribute the phenomenon to partial recall and faulty recognition—that is, one has seen similar places, perhaps in photos or on television (Baker and Nickell 1992, 103–107; Alcock 1996).
Dissociative state. Dissociation is the unconscious process in which a group of mental activities is separated from the main stream of consciousness, and so functions as a separate unit. (A simple example of dissociation is illustrated by the common experience of driving an automobile for miles while lost in thought, yet scarcely remembering the drive.) Such a divided mind is the explanation for the medium's automatic writing and drawing and the like (Goldenson 1970, 1:137, 339–40; Baker 1990a, 182–91; Wortman and Loftus 1981, 385–86).
Expectancy. Expectation plays a major role in reports of ghostly phenomena. Rupert T. Gould (1976, 112–13) applied the term “expectant attention” to the tendency of people who are expecting to see a certain thing to be misled by something having a resemblance to it. The result is an illusory experience. Expectancy can be prompted by suggestion (see “suggestibility”) as well as by wishful thinking. Research by Lange et al. (1
996) shows that when people are “alert” to the paranormal (i.e., given to expect paranormal events) they tend to notice those conditions that would confirm their expectations. Also, suggestion effects were more frequently associated with groups of paranormal percipients than with individual ones, indicating that groups are more susceptible to the effects of contagion.
Extrasensory perception (ESP). Supposedly beyond the normal senses and therefore popularly referred to as a “sixth sense,” the questionable phenomenon of extrasensory perception—consisting of clairvoyance and telepathy—is said to be the source of psychic ability. Mainstream science has not established the validity of either ESP or psychokinesis (PK, also known as “mind-over-matter”), which together make up what is known as “psi.” (For a brief discussion, see “psychic phenomena.”)
Fantasy proneness. Certain individuals, perhaps 4 percent of the public, have what is termed a fantasy-prone personality. Such a person possesses an exceptional ability to fantasize. In their classic study of fantasy proneness, Wilson and Barber (1983) found a number of identifying characteristics: (1) susceptibility to hypnosis, (2) having imaginary playmates in childhood, (3) frequently fantasizing as a child, (4) adopting a fantasy identity, (5) experiencing imagined sensations as real, (6) having vivid sensory experiences, (7) reliving past experiences (not merely recalling them), (8) believing they have psychic powers, (9) having out-of-body experiences, (10) receiving messages from higher beings, spirits, and so on, and (11) experiencing a “waking dream.” Of course, many of us will have some of these traits, but exhibiting several (say six or more) suggests a notable tendency to fantasize.