50 Popular Beliefs That People Think Are True

by Harrison, Guy P.

  My advice to cryptozoologists is to redefine yourselves and change course. Embrace science and appreciate how it produces results and eliminates false claims. Let go of the fixations with folklore and size. Every fascinating species awaiting discovery doesn't have to come with years of campfire tales hyping it up. Every fascinating species awaiting discovery doesn't have to be a giant either. A few years ago a team of scientists went into the crater of just one extinct volcano in Papua New Guinea and emerged with more than forty species new to science. I have trekked in Papua New Guinea and, given the outrageously rich biodiversity there, I have no doubt that I saw at least a few unnamed species without realizing it. This is the world we still live in. It's exciting to realize that there is so much yet to learn about whom we share this planet with. Who needs empty myths when we have so much reality before us?

  Oceans cover some 70 percent of our planet yet are still some 95 percent unexplored. Marine biologists can scarcely dip a net into the ocean without discovering new life-forms. Yes, it is possible that there are some very large marine species still unknown to us, but what is absolutely certain is that millions of smaller unknown species are out there beneath the waves. The decade-long Census of Marine Life estimates that approximately 250,000 ocean species are known today with anywhere from a few million to hundreds of millions left to be discovered. But it's not just numbers that are exciting. The bizarre and stunning creatures that scientists are now finding and photographing in the deepest realms seem more like extraterrestrials than the life we are familiar with. To see what I mean, please find a copy of Claire Nouvian's photo-book, The Deep: The Extraordinary Creatures of the Deep, and explore the beautiful and bizarre collection of exotic sea life it shows. With real animals as freakish and mysterious as these, who has time to think about the Kraken?

  Bio-pioneer Craig Venter conducted an ocean research voyage in 2003 that turned up nearly two thousand previously unknown species of ocean bacteria and viruses. The truth is, nobody really has a clue how many strange and surprising life-forms await discovery in the deepest waters. Even more tantalizing is the life that is thriving beneath the seafloor. That's right, underneath the bottom of the oceans there is a vast ecosystem of microbes that live without oxygen in total darkness. It is believed that they may account for as much as a third of all life on Earth! And these little creatures produce incredibly huge amounts of methane, a potent greenhouse gas. Scientists believe that leakage of this gas from beneath the seafloor in the past caused rapid changes in the planet's climate. If even a small portion of it escaped at once today, we might be hit with tsunamis, mass extinctions, and greatly accelerated global warming.3 If you find the search for new life intriguing, then this is the right planet for you. But we don't even have to venture into thick rainforests or board submersibles at sea to find exotic life. It's much closer to home.

  We only need to look at our own bodies to discover mysterious monsters and amazing creatures—if one can agree that such things sometimes come in very small packages. In case you didn't know, you are a minority in your own skin. You are a walking ecosystem of immense complexity and diversity. So much so, that the space occupied by your body is less “you” and more “other creatures.” By this I mean that some ten trillion cells are “yours” in the sense that they contain your DNA, but there are more than one hundred trillion parasites, predators, freeloaders, and helpful cohabitants that live on you and inside of you. Think about what this means: you are 90 percent other life-forms. A 2011 North Carolina State University study on belly button biodiversity found some 1,400 different species of bacteria living in the navels of ninety-five people; 662 of them were previously unknown to science. So, anyone who really wants to find new life-forms ought to give up cryptozoology and try navel-gazing instead. If you have a yearning to find monsters, don't worry, they already found you.

  One of my favorite little creatures is the tardigrade (also known as the water bear). It doesn't live on us or in our belly buttons, thankfully, but I'm sure it could if it wanted to. These microscopic juggernauts make Bigfoot and the Loch Ness monster seem wimpy by comparison. The tough tardigrade is known to be able to survive the following: no water for 120 years; space (some tardigrades survived in the vacuum of space on a satellite for ten days); pressure more than five times greater than the deepest ocean; freezing to near absolute zero; and levels of gamma radiation that kill most other life-forms. Then there is the Nematode worm that lives pretty much wherever it needs to: oceans, mountains, deserts, or even a mile underground. This species is so tough that some nematodes survived the high-altitude disintegration of the Columbia space shuttle in 2003. (They had been aboard for an experiment.) There is an entire group of life-forms called thermophiles that live in boiling water. Yes, if strange creatures and monsters are what you seek, be assured that they are all around us. We have no need for imaginary ones.

  Although no Bigfoot or Loch Ness monster bodies have turned up yet, some big creatures have been discovered in recent times. The Komodo Dragon, giant squid, and coelacanth were all new finds to mainstream science. The saola, a relative of the cow, is a large mammal that lives in the dense rainforests of Vietnam and Laos. It can weigh more than 150 pounds, but no scientist had verified its existence until 1992. It may surprise some readers to know that the mountain gorilla eluded scientific confirmation until the twentieth century. The megamouth shark can grow to nearly twenty feet long and more than 2,500 pounds. But it wasn't known to science until 1976. It's not unreasonable to believe that nature might have a few more big surprises left for us. However, that belief alone doesn't make one a cryptozoologist. That requires something more.

  Why isn't cryptozoology a widely accepted and respected scientific discipline like primatology, entomology, herpetology, microbiology, or zoology? One can't earn a degree in cryptozoology from universities. It's not even consistently defined. For some it's the scientific pursuit of unknown animals, not fundamentally different from what a traditional scientist does when she or he goes to do fieldwork on a remote Pacific island and hopes to find new bird, insect, or frog species. However, most casual fans and committed cryptozoologists alike probably would describe their field as the study and pursuit of legendary large animals only. I don't want to overgeneralize because I know there are different kinds of believers for every belief. There are some who merely let intrigue and hope carry them to the edge of science and no more than a step or two beyond. Then there are those who see dragons behind every tree. Nonetheless, cryptozoology has a severe image problem. Books on the Loch Ness monster at my local bookstores, for example, are not shelved with books on whales and sea turtles. They are placed with books about vampires and haunted houses. This might be insulting to some cryptozoology enthusiasts, but a quick glance at the content of most of these books reveals that they are shelved exactly where they should be. While I can sympathize to a point with someone who says he wants the search for famous large animals to be legitimate science, the truth is that such efforts are rarely discussed or conducted in a scientific manner. Therefore—until someone presents powerful evidence or produces the body of Bigfoot or Nessie—it won't be respected. And so long as cryptozoology in general is not conducted as a science, it won't qualify as science.

  MANY FOOTPRINTS, BUT NO FEET TO FILL THEM

  The biggest star of cryptozoology these days is probably Bigfoot, also known as Sasquatch. For a species that probably doesn't exist, Bigfoot has shown remarkable longevity. Somehow, say believers, a massive bipedal ape has eluded discovery in North America. In 2011—decades after Bigfoot belief soared in the 1960s and 1970s and footprints turned up all over the Northwest—the Animal Planet TV channel is airing Finding Bigfoot. (Spoiler alert: they don't find Bigfoot.) The National Geographic Channel's Mysterious Science series included an episode about Bigfoot in which skeptics and believers presented their case. (Bigfoot didn't turn up here either.) Books that are skeptical of Bigfoot claims are far outnumbered by books promoting the belief. Millions of Ameri
cans are convinced that Bigfoot really is lurking in the shadows of American forests and swamps. A 2006 Baylor study found that 16 percent of Americans believe that Bigfoot “absolutely” or “probably” exists.4

  Professor emeritus of physical anthropology Curtis Wienker doubts Bigfoot is real and somehow managed to escape confirmation all these years. “I think it is virtually impossible,” Wienker said. “Recall that almost all alleged sightings of such beasts are at night and virtually all higher primates are diurnal [active in daytime]. In recent years in remote Amazonia, a much less populated region than the Pacific Northwest, a few undiscovered species of primates have been discovered, but they are all South American monkeys related to previously known species. All of them are a branch of primates not closely related to modern humans and apes, and all are very small. Furthermore, the mythical creatures of Bigfoot, Yeti, and the ‘swamp ape' are all described as bipedal, and physical anthropology data all suggest that Homo sapiens is the only habitual biped among the perhaps two hundred species of living primates. There is not one shred of scientific evidence, not one datum, to support the existence of such beasts. Period.”5

  The absence of good evidence is problematic for Bigfoot believers, to say the least. There may be nothing wrong with having an open mind about the possibility of Bigfoot being real, but it certainly is no justification to confidently claim that the creature's existence is probable or definite, as many do. All we have to date are eyewitness accounts, poor-quality photos and videos, inconclusive hair samples, and footprints. The oversized footprints might have been impressive evidence if not for the fact that footprints have been faked so often that they have no credibility whatsoever. The first to do it seems to have been a man named Ray Wallace who worked in road construction in the Pacific Northwest. After his death, Wallace's son went on record saying that his father was a dedicated prankster who possessed large carved wooden feet that he used to make Bigfoot trails in the dirt. “Ray L. Wallace was Bigfoot. The reality is, Bigfoot just died,” declared Michael Wallace after his father passed away in 2002.6 According to Michael, Ray first made fake prints at a Northern California logging camp in 1958. “This wasn't a well-planned plot or anything,” Michael told the New York Times. “It's weird because it was just a joke, and then it took on such a life of its own that even now, we can't stop it.”7

  Anthropologist Cameron M. Smith lives in Oregon, so he's practically neighbors with Bigfoot. “It seems very unlikely that large primates here in the Pacific Northwest could go undetected for so long,” Smith explained.8 “Every species has a minimum viable population, a genetic barrier that it can't dip below if it will maintain genetic health. If Bigfoot reproduction is anything like, say, another giant primate, gorilla or human, then the MVP [minimum viable population] can't be below approximately five hundred individuals. So, how much foraging territory do, say, five hundred Bigfoot creatures require, considering the resources of the Pacific Northwest forests, and their daily caloric, water, and nutrient requirements, which could perhaps be modeled on similarly large primates. I don't know, but interesting to think about!”

  Smith believes the best evidence we could hope to find would be DNA rather than bone.

  “The techniques for understanding life-forms on the DNA level are advancing every day,” Smith said. “If Bigfoot is bipedal, which everyone seems to say, its femur or other skeletal material could be significantly similar to humans or other hominids. So any bones could be fakes—just really large bones of a giant human or Gigantopithecus [an extinct primate that lived in Asia]. Though Gigantopithecus would be fossilized. However, one might say it is a fossilized, ancient Bigfoot bone! The bones alone wouldn't do it for me. I'd want the DNA and we now have DNA studies well into the twenty-thouand-plus-years-ago range, so even old Bigfoot bones would be OK. Hair or other tissue would work. At Paisley Cave, Oregon, researchers recently extracted human DNA from coprolites [dried feces] that were over fourteen thousand years old. So that might be a source if hair or other tissues could not be found.”

  My suggestion to cryptozoology fans has always been to keep the passion for exploration and discovery but abandon the faith-without-evidence position. If one is drawn to the idea of unknown creatures living in secluded valleys, rainforests, or in the ocean depths, then become an amateur or professional scientist and do real science. New species of animals are being discovered all the time. Most of the new species being discovered may not qualify as monsters worthy of headlines but this is very important work, nonetheless. Researchers are fleshing out the details of our home. Doesn't it make sense that we should have as complete a picture as possible of the planet we live on? It's also thrilling to find new life. Imagine the excitement of laying eyes on a creature unknown to science. I don't have to imagine. I once felt that thrill—though it didn't last.

  During one of our regular expeditions out in the bush, my son Jared and I came across a bizarre bug. It looked like a cross between a scorpion, a spider, and a beetle. Because we were on a small Caribbean island that had not been thoroughly raked over by the eyes of entomologists, I allowed myself to get excited—too excited. Surely I had discovered a new species! National Geographic camera crews were going to be knocking on my door by the end of the week! Yahoo! Maybe the genome of this new find will lead to a cure for cancer! Just as I begin to think of a name for my new contribution to science, however, my son wanders over, takes one look at it and casually says: “Oh, you found one of those. Yeah, they're pretty cool.” I tried to explain to him that I had just discovered a new species, previously unknown to humankind, and now I have to decide which shirt to wear for my photo spread in New Scientist magazine. For some reason, however, he wasn't impressed.

  “Dad, everybody knows about those,” Jared said. “They're even in one of our documentaries at home.” Sure enough, when I got home and did some fast-forwarding, there it was, plain as day. It was some sort of a pseudoscorpion, well known to everyone but me, apparently. Sigh, no big discovery. The good thing to come out of that little episode, however, is that I got to experience a small taste of the electrifying thrill of finding something totally new. My little moment was fool's gold, of course, but it felt great. I can't fault cryptozoology enthusiasts for chasing that high because it's a good one. What I don't get is why anyone would feel the need to contaminate the noble pursuit of discovery with pseudoscience. If cryptozoology is simply the search for new life, then that's what scientists have been doing all along. By that definition, thousands of them are cryptozoologists. SETI is an effort in cryptozoology, they just don't call it that. NASA is doing cryptozoology when it sends probes to look for life on other worlds. Much of the scientific fieldwork conducted in the Amazon could be considered cryptozoological fieldwork. Scientists want to find new species and often do. Nobody thinks of it this way, however, because cryptozoology carries an unfortunate connotation. It's known as the club for crazies who believe in mermaids and harpies. That might not be entirely fair, but it's the reality.

  Whether one is merely a fan of cryptozoology or a hardcore cryptozoologist ready to invade Tibet in search of the Yeti, it is vital to keep in mind the difference between science and pseudoscience. Science plays by a set of rules and logic that are proven to work. Pseudoscience has no rules, no logic, and the results reflect it. An important point in all of this is that it's mainstream scientists doing their homework, rolling up their sleeves, getting dirty, and working with locals who discover and catalogue the new species. Where are all the cases of cryptozoologists going out on expeditions and returning with amazing new discoveries? This lopsided score should encourage anyone with an interest in finding new life-forms to side with science. Earn a degree in biology, zoology, anthropology, botany, entomology, and then charge out into the unknown. That is the path to discovery.

  Several years ago I conducted a lengthy interview with Jane Goodall, a primatologist widely recognized as one of the great scientists of our time. Her revolutionary work with wild chimpanzees in Africa famously f
orced us to rethink what it means to be human and a member of the primate family. I was overjoyed to be able to talk with her for more than an hour. Unfortunately, during all that time, it never crossed my mind to ask her about Bigfoot. I think I can be forgiven for the oversight. But it would have been a great question because, difficult as it may be to imagine, Jane Goodall is a believer. During a 2002 NPR interview she said the following: “Well now you will be amazed when I tell you that I'm sure that they [Bigfoot creatures] exist.”9 Goodall is not some rascal trying to drum up business at a roadside tourist trap by spreading Bigfoot rumors. She is a prominent authority on nonhuman primates and believes a population of giant ones is somewhere in North America. So what are we to make of this? Not much, I say, because just like all other Bigfoot believers, Goodall can't point to any good evidence. I'm a big fan of hers and I respect her knowledge of apes, but not so much that I would blindly follower her off into Bigfoot faith. Authority and credentials do matter in science, of course, but not so much that they can overcome the absence of evidence. Aristotle was wrong. Newton was wrong. Einstein was wrong. Nobody has ever been right about everything. And until someone finds a body, a fossil, or something else conclusive, it appears that Goodall is wrong on this point.