Epic, ground-breaking, rocks science to its core…

Epic, ground-breaking, rocks science to its core…

Photo by Agent J on Unsplash

Originally published 13 July 2008

Let me note the recent pass­ing of Lyall Wat­son, aged 69, author of the super best­seller Super­na­ture, pub­lished in 1973, just in time to ride the tsuna­mi of New Age fads that defined the time. The book had the sub­ti­tle “A nat­ur­al his­to­ry of the super­nat­ur­al,” which might seem an oxy­moron, but was the key to the book’s suc­cess: pseu­do­science with a sci­en­tif­ic gloss.

I don’t dis­miss Wat­son out of hand. He was a very smart fel­low, well trained in sci­ence, who had an event­ful and use­ful career that took him from his native South Africa to near­ly every con­ti­nent, end­ing up in the west of Ire­land. But it was as a pros­e­ly­tiz­er of the para­nor­mal that he rock­et­ed to inter­na­tion­al fame.

I have the book at my side as I write. The illus­tra­tion on the jack­et shows a flow­er­ing orchid hatch­ing out of what would appear to be a chick­en egg. Noth­ing is impos­si­ble, was Wat­son’s mes­sage; the mar­gins of sci­ence are frayed, the bound­ary between the known and unknown is indis­tinct. He plied his trade in the fuzzy march­es, offer­ing what he claimed to be sci­en­tif­ic evi­dence for just about every brand of the para­nor­mal, from astrol­o­gy to ESP to the antics of spoon-ben­der Uri Geller.

Our appar­ent­ly insa­tiable appetite for the para­nor­mal has always mys­ti­fied me. Why get all atwit­ter about UFOs, crop cir­cles, crys­tals, pyra­mids, pol­ter­geists, auras, and clair­voy­ance when the extra­or­di­nary ordi­nary lies just out­side the win­dow? Michael Fara­day famous­ly said, “Noth­ing is too won­der­ful to be true,” which New Agers are quick to quote back at sci­ence. He might also have said, “Noth­ing is too true to be wonderful.”

Wat­son’s book was fol­lowed by a flood of para­nor­mal best­sellers by oth­er authors, on sub­jects rang­ing from quan­tum heal­ing to alien abduc­tions. In Skep­tics and True Believ­ers, I gave some sug­ges­tions for hit­ting the big time with pseudoscience:

  1. Give your ideas a super­fi­cial aura of real sci­ence. Use words like cos­mic, mor­phic, plas­ma, ener­gy matrix, astral, ether­ic, res­o­nance, chaos. As a jus­ti­fi­ca­tion for your uncon­ven­tion­al physics invoke the Heisen­berg Uncer­tain­ty Prin­ci­ple (see! even sci­en­tists are uncer­tain), or, if you want to sound real­ly sophis­ti­cat­ed, the Ein­stein-Podol­sky-Rosen Para­dox (what’s that? nev­er mind, it sounds impressive).
  2. Flaunt your cre­den­tials. If pos­si­ble, put M.S. or Ph.D. after your name on the cov­er of your book; it does­n’t mat­ter in what field of study you acquired the degree.
  3. Make sure your ideas are easy to under­stand. You may use schemat­ic draw­ings of warped space-time, but, please, no mathematics.
  4. Don’t hes­i­tate to point out all the things that real sci­ence can’­t­ex­plain: the ori­gin of life, the devel­op­ment of embryos, mem­o­ry, dreams.
  5. Remem­ber, your pseu­do­sci­en­tif­ic ideas need evi­dence. A good rule of thumb is this: You can always track down at least a dozen pur­port­ed occur­rences of any phenomenon.
  6. Dis­tance your­self from the most sim­plis­tic super­sti­tions. For exam­ple, make fun of news­pa­per horo­scopes. But also make sure your new the­o­ry is roomy enough to allow for — or, at least, not pro­hib­it — astrol­o­gy, ESP, psy­choki­ne­sis and oth­er pop­u­lar para­nor­mal phenomena.
  7. Keep your pseu­do­science human-cen­tered. Real sci­ence tends to make peo­ple feel iso­lat­ed, gener­ic, like cogs in a machine. Good pseu­do­science makes every indi­vid­ual the cen­ter of a cos­mic web of influences.
  8. Learn from the mas­ters. In this respect, I men­tioned the pro­lif­ic Dr. Wat­son, on the occa­sion of his book The Nature of Things: The Secret Life of Inan­i­mate Objects.
  9. Don’t be afraid to evoke the wrath of the sci­en­tif­ic estab­lish­ment, as this will prove you are on to some­thing big. The best thing that ever hap­pened to Rupert Shel­drake was a bit of intem­per­ate edi­to­ri­al­iz­ing in the sci­ence jour­nal Nature. When Shel­drake’s A New Sci­ence of Life: The Hypoth­e­sis of For­ma­tive Cau­sa­tion was pub­lished in 1981, Nature called it an “infu­ri­at­ing book…the best can­di­date for burn­ing there has been in many years” — and pro­pelled the book into the stratos­phere of New Age pop­u­lar­i­ty. Sub­se­quent edi­tions of Shel­drake’s book fea­tured Nature’s denun­ci­a­tion as a pub­lic­i­ty blurb. Is the estab­lish­ment run­ning scared? Could it be that…?
  10. Remem­ber those famous lines from Ham­let: “There are more things in heav­en and earth, Hor­a­tio, than are dreamt of in your phi­los­o­phy.” Sci­en­tists don’t know every­thing. The key to suc­cess for any good pseu­do­science is to amass enough anom­alies, coin­ci­dences, odd­i­ties, excep­tions, prodi­gies, and won­ders that the sheer bulk of your data will con­vince the read­er that your the­o­ry is cor­rect. After all, if ortho­dox sci­ence can’t explain ALL OF THIS, then super­na­ture or mor­phic res­o­nance or …(insert your own the­o­ry)…begins to look bet­ter and better.

Lyall Wat­son and oth­er pur­vey­ors of the para­nor­mal cel­e­brate the ordi­nar­i­ness of the super­nat­ur­al. I would rather cel­e­brate the extra­or­di­nar­i­ness of the natural.

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