The Truth About Uri Geller

by James Randi

  As we left the laboratory, Dr. Wilkins’s secretary,7 Miss Win Adams, was leaving the elevator. I asked her to describe what had happened the day before in her office, and she told Dr. Bastin that she had not only had two keys bend under her control, but that she had asked me to fix her watch, which had been stuck at 7:07 for four days. I’d placed it face down in her hand, and when she looked at it, it read 5:30! Not only that, but when she held it to her ear, it was running! She’d set the correct time, and the watch had been running ever since, keeping perfect time for over twenty-four hours!

  Bastin didn’t have much to say about that. In fact, he could not explain the broken spoon, the key that bent on his wife’s key ring, the watch, or the other tricks that had fooled him. But he chortled that I hadn’t broken the screwdriver exactly as Geller has broken it!

  I was hardly very happy as I left the college. It was depressing to see Bastin so convinced of an illusion. There was no victory in the conference for me at all. I’d merely shown him duplications of major “miracles” also performed by Geller; in his mind, mine had been tricks, Geller’s genuine. His idea of reality is a strange one, indeed.

  As I’ve said, there are some things I cannot forgive Geller for. His deception of Dr. Ted Bastin is one of them.

  John Hasted, whom I’ve already mentioned in this chapter, is another Gellerized physicist. He is a fixture at Birkbeck College of London University, and I found him to be a likable bear of a man who I’m sure is incapable of deception—except when practicing it upon himself. He eagerly described to me a session with Geller back in June 1974, which occurred in his office.

  One of the photographs in My Story shows Professor David Bohm and Professor John Hasted with Geller during this remarkable episode.8 Also present were an assistant named Nikola and the photographer who took the picture. His name was Shipi Shtrang, not to my great surprise.

  Geller had already been to this location twice before. Thus he was already familiar with the layout and was well prepared. Hasted told me that the group was in the office for barely “two minutes” when Geller asked for a spoon, which was given him from the desk drawer. He held it at the tip, and began to shake it back and forth. Great excitement ensued, as the spoon “became plastic” and wobbled about. Geller handed the spoon to Hasted, who laid it down carefully, since it was still floppy. It broke a few seconds later when I interviewed him. denied that he ever endorsed Geller and was less than satisfied with the “experiments” that were conducted while he was a witness.

  When I asked what had happened to the pieces, Hasted reported that they had been examined by a fracture specialist to see if such things as typical “fatigue fracture” signs were present. A “bar” (see Figure 4) would indicate such a fracture, obtainable by bending the metal back and forth until the structure breaks down and it falls in two. No such “bar” was seen. The conclusion was that the break was a “psychic” one.

  FIGURE 4. Appearance of a typical “fatigue” fracture of a metal bar. Hasted was ecstatic over this event. He had seen and handled a spoon in process of breaking! He declared Geller to be the real thing.

  At the beginning of my visit to Birkbeck (I went there in the guise of a reporter, feeling that as a conjuror I would not be welcome) Hasted invited me to the coffee shop upstairs, where we chatted at length on the experiences he’d had with Geller. He went into great detail about how “happy” they’d had to keep Uri. He said they had to fawn over him and flatter him. Then miracles would occur. I knew that I would have to duplicate the Geller tricks to make him re-think his conclusions; so I asked him to secretly pocket the teaspoon he’d been using. He did so, though he looked as guilty as a bank robber. We went to his office downstairs.

  In the office, I questioned him about how Geller had held the spoon. I invited him to hold the one he’d brought by both ends, and I twiddled it about my thumb and forefinger. It began getting “plastic” as we watched and suddenly separated into two pieces.

  Hasted colored a bit. He seized his magnifying lens and explained that he was looking for “fatigue bars.” He found none. “Did you bend that while I was on the phone?” he asked. I told him quite honestly that I hadn’t. (He’d had a call from astronaut Edgar Mitchell in the United States.)

  Hasted dropped both pieces into the wastebasket. “Don’t want to get them mixed up with the real experiments” he said with a smile. He seemed not at all perturbed that a “reporter” had walked in off the street, sat right beside him, and done a Geller! He hastened to state that he had always worked with keys, not spoons, since keys are much shorter and require more force. They are also less likely to be subjected to trickery, he said.

  But he had examined the spoon I “melted,” and he’d found no trace of signs that would indicate I had used a trick! Why did he not conclude that he had just seen a psychic event? Because I was just a reporter—not a wonder-worker. He had no predilection to believe that I could psychically bend metal, and so he discarded the evidence. It did not fit his picture of the world. Had he sent that spoon in for an analysis, he would have discovered no difference in the analysis of that one and a Gellerized one—unless the analyst were told which was the “real” one. Then it would depend upon the analyst’s prejudice, if any.

  The professor then showed me a set of chart recordings that had been obtained with Geller while he was trying to influence both a Geiger counter and a magnetometer.I must explain. The Geiger counter will produce a “spike” on a line being drawn on a roll of graph paper traveling under a pen. The recorder is the kind of device used on a polygraph, or so-called “lie detector.” If there is no atomic particle registering on the Geiger counter, there is just a continuous straight line; when a pulse comes through, the pen is pulled to one side and registers a “spike.” The magnetometer, which registers magnetic fields, was also connected to the chart recorder, and produced a parallel straight line, with its own set of “spikes” as it registered magnetic pulses. And lo! Hasted had noticed that while Geller was putting the whammy on both machines, both chart lines registered pulses, twice, at precisely the same instant!

  Now there are just three explanations for this, two of which have occurred to Hasted. Geller would like us to believe the first, which is that he produced a burst of radioactive particles and a magnetic field simultaneously. Hasted does not accept this, because he has postulated the second explanation, which is that Geller can produce voltage across his fingers as he holds the Geiger counter probe, thus making it register a false pulse to the radioactivity chart line and a true electromagnetic pulse to the other line.

  Professor, there is a third solution as well. I heard a great deal from you that day on how carefully you had monitored the instrumentation, but I did not hear anything about who was watching the chart recorder. Did it occur to you that Shipi—or Uri—could have “pulsed” the recorder just by kicking it? Try it. It works. I’ve tried it, and it has worked for me. And it produces exactly the kind of dual pulse I saw on your chart recordings, both “spikes” occurring at precisely the same instant! But you may not like this interpretation, since it proves no supernatural occurrence, just a bump with the foot or elbow. The first two explanations require rejection of all that we know about physics; the third is quite mundane and is a far better solution.

  You might recall, professor, that your counterparts in America—Targ and Puthoff—obtained single-sided pulses when Uri tried to hex a sensitive weighing device. And no one thought to try testing the chart recorder then either, though they spent a lot of time jumping up and down on the scale device itself. Again, an alternative explanation of that event will not be popular at SRI.

  To return to Professor Hasted’s remark on why he preferred to use keys, rather than spoons, with Geller. He had shown me a very short, thick key as an example of how difficult an object could be to bend without it being noticed. He’d taken it from his top right desk drawer for me to examine. I’d put it back again.Well, if Professor Hasted will look at that key—it’s in the uppe
r right drawer—he’ll find a 40-degree bend in it. And I’m sure he has found his paper knife bent over double as well. Further, if he will check with the colleague I mentioned in my letter to him, he’ll find that a block of clear plastic he used to have on his desk is now in the possession of that gentleman. It was teleported, of course.

  Why? Do I amuse myself going into these offices doing silly things like Geller does? No, I’ve done them to prove that it is possible—even without Shipi Shtrang around as a helper—to get away with almost anything. I think my case is proved.

  I liked Hasted. I still do, and I hope he takes this account of my skullduggery as a prank. I meant it that way.

  Geller didn’t.

  So we see that the Gellerites area mixed bag. They all seem, however, to have fallen under Uri’s spell. Arthur Clarke, in a personal communication to me, says, “Uri seems to have an extraordinary ability to influence people and make them want him to be genuine—I guess the vapid word ‘charm’ (to which you are obviously immune!) is the only one appropriate.”

  Yes, Geller has charm, all right. He has the mesmeric panache that all great performers need, and the Gellerites can hardly be blamed for falling under the spell. But they may find that awakening is an unpleasant experience.

  One person aroused from a pleasant hallucination is Professor J. W. Juritz, of Cape Town, South Africa. In an article that told of his tests with Geller, Professor Juritz said, “We’re baffled, there is no explanation . . .” In the tests, similar to those done for Taylor and for others at Birkbeck in London, Geller had managed to bend keys, start and stop watches, reproduce sealed drawings, and deflect the compass needle by 30 degrees. Juritz was impressed, and said so in print. But two weeks later, he reconsidered.

  Allow me to digress momentarily. It is a difficult thing for a man of science, especially when he is a respected physicist like Professor Juritz, if he discovers that the truth has escaped him and he must recant on a previously stated opinion. Not many men of science can do so, and in many cases where the admission is unavoidable they have resorted to all kinds of devious semantics to get around an out-and-out admission of error. But we can rejoice that Professor Juritz and others have had the courage and dignity to express themselves so directly. We know we can trust a man who is not afraid to admit his error, as understandable as this error is.

  Said Juritz: “We were a very bad team of observers. Every experiment failed the first time it was attempted, and only succeeded some time later after attention had in the interim been diverted to other activities.”

  The professor even bothered to experiment with a small magnet concealed upon his person, to see if he could make the compass needle deflect. He could, and did. He also noted that, “None of the alleged bendings etc., was actually seen to happen, but only to have happened. The conclusion is obvious—Uri relies upon the age-old conjuror’s trick of diverting attention.”

  Juritz ended his recantation by saying: “No self-respecting physicist can accept the claims of Geller and continue to teach physics.”

  Now let us turn to a period in time many of us never knew. We will find an unusual set of parallels between the Geller of today and his antecedents. It will make for interesting comparisons.

  .

  1 Exactly the words used by Professor Ray Hyman to describe the conditions at SRI during the Geller tests!

  2 Clark is now a total disbeliever in Geller’s claims.

  3 This is also evident in a photo in Taylor’s Superminds’.

  4 in October of 1975,1 demonstrated with this very tube before Taylor and a BBC crew that this was indeed possible. I removed the stopper and replaced it, as I had done before. In replacing the stopper, the sealing-wax cracked. After all, it had been put to considerable strain at least three times!

  5 Measuring 1/4 x 1/16 x 5 inches.

  6 My English friends will need no explanation of this. For others, I must explain that “to be sent to Coventry” means to be ostracized by one’s fellows.

  7 Dr. Wilkins enters our drama in Chapter 17.

  8 Bohm. when I interviewed him. denied that he ever endorsed Geller and was less than satisfied with the “experiments” that were conducted while he was a witness.

  THE SPANIARD WITH THE X-RAY EYES

  The New Nonsense—really bits and pieces of the old, brought back and given a “now” look by entrepreneurs who know their market—arises when men, having abandoned faith for reason, find the task of living by reason too difficult for them.

  —Charles Fair: The New Nonsense

  More than half a century ago, the great magician and escape artist Harry Houdini published a small booklet that he distributed among his audiences to further his fight against the frauds of his day. It dealt mainly with one “Margery” (the operating name of Mrs. Mina Crandon, the wife of a prominent Boston surgeon), whom Houdini battled for some time on behalf of Scientific American magazine. This journal had offered a prize of $5,000 to anyone who could demonstrate to their committee’s satisfaction that a supernormal event had been produced in their presence. Houdini was a member of the committee, for they had the good sense to employ the services of an expert in order to detect any chicanery.

  But the last few pages of Houdini’s booklet dealt with the marvelous abilities of Joaquin Maria Argamasilla, known as “The Spaniard with X-ray Eyes.” In reviewing the comments of Houdini on this wonder-worker of fifty years ago, I was struck with the similarities to the demonstration Geller did with a metal file box in which was concealed a single die, shaken about by the SRI experimenters. First Houdini’s account; then, read my analysis of the reports of Geller’s performance. I believe you will find the comparison interesting.

  Argamasilla was a huge man, dwarfing Houdini (who was not a very large man even in his “elevator” shoes). But the indomitable escape-artist depended only on intellect and expertise to put a stop to the career of the X-ray wonder. Soon after the appearance of this booklet, Argamasilla went out of business permanently.

  Notice that prominent scientists of Houdini’s day had been fooled by the demonstrations of this faker. Are we to assume that scientists of today are any faster at detection when faced with an unusual performance? Richet, one scientist very much convinced by Argamasilla’s show, was France’s leading parapsychologist, though that term had not yet been coined. He was also an eminent and respected physiologist and acknowledged discoverer of the phenomenon that came to be known as anaphylaxis. (It proved important in immunology and led to research for which he received the Nobel prize, in 1913, for Physiology and Medicine.) In short, Richet was a trained observer and an astute, educated, and intelligent man. But he was no conjuror, and therefore he was taken in by the Spaniard as easily as any person is taken in by a good performer in the conjuring arts.

  The spelling and grammar of Houdini’s original have been corrected and slightly modernized, with no changes made that alter the meaning or intent at all. Since Houdini turned out this booklet in a hurry, the illustrations and construction are a bit slipshod, but his meaning is clear. Herewith his account of the Argamasilla exposure, entitled (in the booklet) “Joaquin Maria Argamasilla: The Spaniard with X-ray Eyes?”:

  This phenomenal mystifier essays to perform or accomplish the impossible; he makes claim to a power of supernormal vision. X-ray eyes and a penetrating brain; however, his claim to supernatural power is acknowledged as being limited, he seemingly not being familiar with the English language. He is always accompanied by his promoter, who serves in capacity of interpreter.

  This promoter presented Argamasilla as a youth of nineteen: his appearance and mannerisms indicate a more mature personality. As credentials, this young man brought letters purported to have been written by the Nobel prize winner, Prof. Richet, and from Prof. Geley. likewise from noted scientists of Spain who attested to the fact that Argamasilla unqualifiedly came through all tests and that he had proved conclusively to their satisfaction “that he could read through metal.”

  It was cla
imed that the Spaniard with his X-ray eyes could penetrate metal “provided it was unpainted,” giving precedence to gold—and in sequence, silver, copper, zinc, tin and iron. His most popular test was reading through the hunting case of a watch, the hands having been set at random just before the watch was placed in his hands, and that is just what seemingly he did, to the amazement of scientific onlookers—and this youth’s handling of the watch was so innocently done as to ward off suspicion.

  As in the case, always, with the first presentation of such unnatural things, a weird, uncanny impression is made on the mind of the lay investigator; having been thrown off guard by the art of misdirection he is susceptible to the superstitious element lurking in the minds of the assembled gathering—there is infection to existing superstition, particularly so when logical deduction seems foreign to the production.