The Truth About Uri Geller

by James Randi

  In London (June 1975), during the showing of a totally unconvincing and superficial film about the work of Brazil’s Arigo—the “surgeon of the rusty knife,” produced by Puharich—a member of the audience asked Dr. Ted Bastin, a prominent scientist totally convinced of the wonders of parapsychology, whether he felt that Puharich was still as believable as he had once been. Reference had been made to the book Uri at the time. Replied Bastin, “I used to think him a reliable reporter. But after meeting Uri, he changed.” Bastin referred to the book as “an absolute disaster.” He understated the case. Uri had probably done more to destroy what authority Puharich once held in the scientific community than any other single publication—even the most derogatory of them.

  Of all the endless pages of supernatural wonders that occur in Uri I can only say that if a lot of time and money were available, a large portion of the nonsense could be revealed as such. But enough talent has already been expended to disprove the contentions of these masters of invention and hyperbole. Everything that Puharich sees instantly becomes a miracle, and Uri or his magical friends in the flying saucers are responsible for all such wonders. I will content myself with quoting a few pages from the book in which Puharich details an event at which I was present.

  In this case, the transpositions of facts and omissions and additions of details are evident to me because I was actually there at the time.

  In the Appendix to this book, you will find a statement signed by persons in attendance at the event to be described; the document was submitted to these persons, and they signed it after reading the annotated account. My corrections of Puharich’s version are, to the best of their knowledge, true and direct. Let the sample from Uri, which follows in Chapter 7, give my readers an idea of the worth of the rest of Puharich’s book.

  THE TIME MAGAZINE EPISODE WITH GELLER

  Scientists especially when they leave the particular field in which they have specialized, are just as ordinary, pig-headed, and unreasonable as anybody else, and their unusually high intelligence only makes their prejudices all the more dangerous . . .

  —Professor H.J. Eysenck, University of London

  On Sunday, February 4, 1973,1 received a call from my good friend Charlie Reynolds, a well-known photographer who has done a good deal of work for Time magazine, is picture editor of Popular Photography magazine, and is also an amateur magician of some considerable cleverness. Charlie long ago decided that he would concentrate on learning to do three or four conjuring tricks exceedingly well, instead of doing fifty of them badly. I recommend this tack for all amateurs.

  Reynolds is well versed in conjuring theory, and when he heard through a friend at Time that they were going to be witnessing a demonstration by Uri Geller, he called and offered his services as the photographer. John Durniak, picture editor at the magazine, realizing Charlie’s value as an expert observer who might be of use in that capacity as well, accepted readily. Charlie also suggested that I be called in to pose as a reporter, since Geller was said to refuse interviews before magicians. Since I had never met either Puharich or Geller, I knew that I could safely pose as a Time employee. The date was set for that Tuesday.

  I’d not heard of Geller at all until I was told about him by Reynolds. The stories that were then related, to me made me feel I might be wasting my time with just another flash-in-the-pan trickster who would be ushered promptly out into the cold. I did not reckon with the gullibility of those who had already put their approval on his tricks as genuine miracles.

  I arrived at Time with a miniature tape-recorder under my raincoat. I felt that it would be better not to even tell Charlie that I was about to record the proceedings, and I placed my coat nearby with the machine hidden inside. I was introduced around, but not as Randi; and, though I already knew Rita Quinn, Durniak, and several others, everyone I had not met seemed less than curious about my presence.

  Equipped with yellow pad and pencil, I assumed a reporter-like pose and we awaited the miracle-workers. Charlie was not asked to take pictures until it seemed that Time was interested enough to want some. I remember particularly that Leon Jaroff, a senior editor of Time, was disgruntled about the whole matter and resented being called in. He felt—and rightly so—that the matter belonged with Time’s theater department. But, since he had earlier become involved with the matter of SRI’s participation in this circus, he folded his arms and looked glum, casting an occasional fierce look in my direction. I ignored his discomfort and prepared to face the foe.

  I had not seen Puharich in many years. He was now a mustachioed, frizzy-haired, aging hippy type, and I managed merely to nod at him as I was introduced under my real name, which begins with a “Z” and was apparently convincing enough. Both Charlie and I passed muster.

  Then the boy-wonder entered. He was strikingly handsome, smiling, and quiet. I did not know at that time of his fashion-model background in Israel, but could see that he would be a success with the women whether he was a “psychic” or not. I was impressed.

  Puharich immediately announced that he would leave the room, saying that it might be suspected that he and Geller were “in cahoots,” to use his terminology. He left, closed the door, and Time began speaking with Geller. There were some ten people in that room that day. All of them will verify that what I say here is absolutely true.

  I will now begin Andrija Puharich’s account of what transpired, and call attention to the myriad misstatements, half-truths, and sheer inventions present in his version. He wrote the following for publication in his book, in order to try to take the edge off Uri’s dismal failure that day. His account turns the event into what he refers to as a “lynch.” It was more of a suicide. From Puharich’s Uri, here is his version:

  The next day I received a phone call from Charles Reynolds, who represented himself as a photographer for “Time” magazine. He said he wanted to meet with Uri. I put him off until I could check his credentials. I found out that he was a magician and a free-lance photographer. He was part of a “Time” cabal to lure Uri into a confrontation with magicians in an attempt to discredit him. I talked the problem over with Uri. I advised him that every indication had showed me that a lynch was in the offing. I even suspected that someone at “Time” was being pressured to do a hatchet job on Uri and myself. We decided to go ahead and demonstrate for “Time,” and that no matter what happened, it had to be for the best. I called Charles Reynolds back and made a date to have the “Time” staff meet Uri on Tuesday, February 6, 1973.

  Hold on. Let’s go back over that, please. Puharich begins by saying that Charlie “represented himself as a photographer for Time magazine.” Yes, that’s true, because Charlie is a photographer for Time. After all, Puharich represented himself as a doctor.

  Then Puharich says he “put off’ Charlie until he could “check his credentials.” Nonsense. With whom did he check? There was nowhere he could have discovered that Charlie was an amateur magician, and he certainly could not have suspected it from a phone call. And Charlie is as much a “free-lance photographer” as any of the Time cameramen. The “cabal” was nonexistent: Time was merely looking into a story by calling in experts as a matter of proper procedure. And I’m damn sure Geller would never have consented to appear before two magician-observers. He never had before, and hasn’t since, if he’s known conjurors were present who were competent enough to solve his tricks. Puharich’s dark mutterings about “someone at Time” being pressured into a “hatchet job” smacks of juvenile paranoia. But back to the good doctor’s highly fictionalized account:

  We met in the offices of John Derniak [sic]. Present on behalf of “Time” were editors Fred Golden and Leon Jaroff, magicians Charles Reynolds and James Randi, photographer Peter Basch, some secretaries, and Uri and 1.1 opened the meeting by stating emphatically that Uri was not a magician and had submitted his claims to science for judgment. One of the magicians immediately made the statement that Uri was known to be a magician, based on material in “our Geller File.” Uri e
xplained that he was not a magician; that he had appeared in Israel and Germany in stage shows where magicians had performed; and that his powers of telepathy and psychokinesis were real. One of the ‘Time” editors informed us that everything was being taped; we consented.

  Stop right there. No statement was made by either Charlie or myself—at that point—that Uri was known to be a magician. And neither of them—Puharich or Uri—had any idea that there were magicians in the room. The most suspicion Geller raised was when he asked me what my function was before handing me a fork. I lied that I was just “taking down notes” on the meeting. Uri seemed satisfied and roared ahead, digging his own grave.

  And neither of the Time editors there said anything about the proceedings being taped. No one but myself knew of the tape machine, and neither of the performers had asked. Note that whenever Puharich has to put fictitious words into someone’s mouth he fails to specify who it is.

  The atmosphere was that of a kangaroo court. Uri was damned if he refused to demonstrate and damned if he did demonstrate; he chose to run the gauntlet and demonstrate. He asked me to leave the room so that the charge of collusion would be eliminated. I did not observe what Uri did for these people, so my report is secondhand. Uri was annoyed by the hostile atmosphere and made a slow start with a telepathy demonstration, but he did eventually succeed. The magicians said they could “duplicate” this “trick.” Then Uri bent a fork by lightly stroking it. The magicians said they could duplicate this “trick” by using slight of hand and misdirection. Then Charlie Reynolds offered his own apartment key to be bent. Uri bent it by concentration, and it continued to bend after it left his hands. No one said a word about this “trick,” and it has never been mentioned to this day by the editors or ‘Time” or by the magicians. A secretary from ‘Time” called us later that day to tell us that the key had gone on bending by itself after we left.

  The “telepathy demonstration” that Puharich quotes Uri as saying he performed was the saddest, most transparent act I’ve ever seen. He asked us to draw simple shapes on our pads. I was careful not to allow my pencil to show above the top of the pad, and he got nothing from me, though he made several attempts. One of the secretaries present was not so careful, and Uri, pretending to cover his eyes with his hands but actually boldly peering out from between his fingers, got a fair version of what she had drawn. Jaroff, very sour on the matter, mumbled out loud that Uri was “peeking!” and wanted to get out of the room at all costs.

  Geller then decided that he would “project” some thoughts to us. He wrote something down on his pad, then said he would try to project the name of a foreign capital to us. He asked us to exclude the Israeli capital, since that would be too easy! We tittered appropriately at this remark, and Uri went into a concentrating pose. He asked the man beside me what city he’d “received.” “London,” announced the subject. Lo! Geller had written both “Paris” and “London” on his pad, but “London” was crossed out lightly. Uri cursed his luck, explaining that he should have stayed with his first impulse, allowing us all to believe that he’d originally wanted to transmit “London” but had changed to “Paris.” Suddenly one of the crowd announced that he’d gotten “Paris,” and Geller gratefully turned to him and asked him to pick a digit between 1 and 10. “Seven,” announced the man. Eureka! Uri showed a scrawled “7” on his pad. Charlie and I looked at one another, suppressing smiles.

  We were amused, because Uri could not have known that at that moment we both had in our pockets copies of a letter addressed to Martin Gardner of Scientific American magazine from Ray Hyman, who had been present during an aborted attempt by Geller and SRI to latch on to some Department of Defense funds. In that letter was a description of exactly the same routine, using the same cities and same numbers. It’s an old set-up; in fact I believe I first saw it on the back of a cereal box when I was a kid. Geller looked pretty amateurish to us at that point.

  Of course, there is no possibility that we said—as Puharich claimed—that we could “duplicate” this trick. We’d have been ashamed to, anyway. We were not about to show our hand yet.

  The key Charlie offered was the key to an office at Popular Photography. Uri bent it all right—but not “by concentration.” He simply put the tip of it against the tabletop and pushed. Charlie and I both clearly saw him do it. The fork trick was equally bold, and when Uri asked me at one point, “Did you see that with wonderment in his voice, I dryly replied, “Yes, I certainly did” When Uri took the key and rushed out of the office and down the hall with it, we were not in the least surprised to see that it had been further bent, but the statement that “a secretary from Time called” later in the day to report that “the key had gone on bending by itself’ is obviously untrue, since Charlie put the key in his pocket at the conclusion of the trick, and it left the office with him!

  Puharich entered the room and came directly over to me at the conclusion of the show. I was turning off the tape recorder in my coat and didn’t try to hide it from him. He called me by my professional name and asked rather loudly if I had enjoyed “trying to catch Uri.” I replied that I had enjoyed “catching Uri,” not just “trying.” Puharich had been in conversation with a secretary outside the office and learned who I really was. What torture it must have been for him to discover, after he was out of the room, that his Trilby was inside being observed by competent people! But back to his story:

  Uri was in deep gloom as we left the offices of ‘Time.” Now he felt the full weight of the lynch that was being organized against him in the United States. We also found out that the “Time” correspondent in Jerusalem had filed a report on Uri which said that scientists from Hebrew University claimed they had caught him cheating. This, too, proved to be a lie, but it suited the policy of the editors of ‘Time.”

  Yes, it suited the policy of the editors of Time to tell the news as it really happened. I find it hard to believe that Puharich had never seen an account in the papers that told of the Jerusalem event. I quote now from the Jerusalem Post article, ‘Telepathist Geller Termed a Fraud,” of October 5, 1970:

  Uri Geller, a performer who has won a wide following as the possessor of “strong telepathic powers,” was last night termed a fraud by four Jerusalem computer unit employees.

  The charge was made by one of the men, Mr. Yosef Allon, in an interview over the evening radio newsreel. Confronted with Allon, Mr. Geller told the radio interviewer he would have to “consult first” before deciding whether to sue for libel.

  Explaining how his suspicions were aroused, Mr. Allon said he went to a Geller performance and was as impressed as anyone else in the audience until Geller did a card trick that he, Allon, had been doing for years. A closer study of each of Geller’s “telepathic feats” was then made by Allon and three colleagues at the computer unit of the Government office Mechanization Centre, Danny Zehavi, Yitzhak Ziskind and Alexander Eshed.

  Last week, they demonstrated the results by performing a series of Geller’s acts before an impressed audience of the University psychology department. The four then explained that the feats of “thought transference” were accomplished mainly by sleight of hand.

  A member of the audience was Dr. Moshe Caspi, of the University’s School of Education, who had also seen Geller perform. He told the radio newsreel last night that the four were not only as good as Geller, but made fewer mistakes.

  Among the acts that Allon claims to have successfully imitated is that of driving a car blindfolded, allegedly guided only by the “concentration” of his passengers on the contours of the road. Allon declined to reveal publicly how this is accomplished.

  I think that it is obvious by now just how Puharich has misrepresented the actual events at the Time office that day. It just did not happen the way he said it did, and we can prove it. Soon after the debacle, the president of Stanford University called Ralph Davidson, the publisher of Time, and tried to get the story squashed. Davidson is a member of the SU board of governors. And the S
RI public relations man (who has since quit the organization) called Wilhelm of Time to see what could be done about the story. Puharich et al. realized that the story would be a factual one.

  The Puharich account continues:

  Since the war was clearly on, I had to mobilize my forces. My goal was simple—to keep the human race from talking itself into a “crucifixion” state of mind. I officially informed the editors of “Time” that Uri’s powers were real and that science would affirm this in due time. I organized a group of prominent citizens who believed in Uri’s powers to act as an Operations Group. The Operations Group was to raise funds for research, keep in touch with media executives at newspapers, magazines, television, etc., and spread the word among leaders in American society that a major issue was in the making. The Operations Group consisted of Judy Skutch, John Tishman, John Douglas, Stewart Mott, Maria Janis, Byron Janis, Ruth Hagy Brod, and others. One of the first tasks of this group was to counter whatever ‘Time” did. The editors of “Newsweek” were approached, and they assigned Charles Panatti [s/c] to do a Geller story. After several weeks of work Panatti turned in to the editors of “Newsweek” a favorable story about Uri. [This story has still not been published at the time of this writing.]