Carl%20Sagan%20-%20The%20Demon%20Haunted%20World

Carl%20Sagan%20-%20The%20Demon%20Haunted%20World Carl%20Sagan%20-%20The%20Demon%20Haunted%20World

giancarlo3000
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04.10.2012 Views

THE DEMON-HAUNTED WORLD I think we're lucky that James Randi is tugging at the curtain. But it would be as dangerous to rely on him to expose all the quacks, humbugs and bunkum in the world as it would be to believe those same charlatans. If we don't want to get taken, we need to do this job for ourselves. One of the saddest lessons of history is this: if we've been bamboozled long enough, we tend to reject any evidence of the bamboozle. We're no longer interested in finding out the truth. The bamboozle has captured us. It's simply too painful to acknowledge, even to ourselves, that we've been taken. Once you give a charlatan power over you, you almost never get it back. So the old bamboozles tend to persist as the new ones rise. Seances occur only in darkened rooms, where the ghostly visitors can be seen dimly at best. If we turn up the lights a little, so we have a chance to see what's going on, the spirits vanish. They're shy, we're told, and some of us believe it. In twentiethcentury parapsychology laboratories, there is the 'observer effect': those described as gifted psychics find that their powers diminish markedly whenever sceptics arrive, and disappear altogether in the presence of a conjuror as skilled as James Randi. What they need is darkness and gullibility. A little girl who had been a co-conspirator in a famous nineteenth-century flimflam - spirit-rapping, in which ghosts answer questions by loud thumping - grew up and confessed it was an imposture. She was cracking the joint in her big toe. She demonstrated how it was done. But the public apology was largely ignored and, when acknowledged, denounced. Spirit-rapping was too reassuring to be abandoned merely on the say-so of a self-confessed rapper, even if she started the whole business in the first place. The story began to circulate that the confession was coerced out of her by fanatical rationalists. As I described earlier, British hoaxers confessed to having made 'crop circles', geometrical figures generated in grain fields. It wasn't alien artists working in wheat as their medium, but two blokes with a board, a rope and a taste for whimsy. Even when they demonstrated how they did it, though, believers were unimpressed. Maybe some of the crop circles are hoaxes, they 230

Obsessed with Reality argued, but there are too many of them, and some of the pictograms are too complex. Only extraterrestrials could do it. Then others in Britain confessed. But crop circles abroad, it was objected, in Hungary for example, how can you explain that? Then copycat Hungarian teenagers confessed. But what about . . .? To test the credulity of an alien abduction psychiatrist, a woman poses as an abductee. The therapist is enthusiastic about the fantasies she spins. But when she announces it was all a fake, what is his response? To re-examine his protocols or his understanding of what these cases mean? No. On various days he suggests (1) even if she isn't herself aware of it, she was in fact abducted; or (2) she's crazy - after all, she went to a psychiatrist, didn't she?; or (3) he was on top of the hoax from the beginning and just gave her enough rope to hang herself. If it's sometimes easier to reject strong evidence than to admit that we've been wrong, this is also information about ourselves worth having. A scientist places an ad in a Paris newspaper offering a free horoscope. He receives about 150 replies, each, as requested, detailing a place and time of birth. Every respondent is then sent the identical horoscope, along with a questionnaire asking how accurate the horoscope had been. Ninety-four per cent of the respondents (and 90 per cent of their families and friends) reply that they were at least recognizable in the horoscope. However, the horoscope was drawn up for a French serial killer. If an astrologer can get this far without even meeting his subjects, think how well someone sensitive to human nuances and not overly scrupulous might do. Why are we so easily taken in by fortune-tellers, psychic seers, palmists, tea-leaf, tarot and yarrow readers, and their ilk? Of course, they note our posture, facial expressions, clothing and answers to seemingly innocuous questions. Some of them are brilliant at it, and these are areas about which many scientists seem almost unconscious. There is also a computer network to which 'professional' psychics subscribe, the details of their customers' lives available to their colleagues in an instant. A key tool 231

THE DEMON-HAUNTED WORLD<br />

I think we're lucky that James Randi is tugging at the curtain.<br />

But it would be as dangerous to rely on him to expose all the<br />

quacks, humbugs and bunkum in the world as it would be to<br />

believe those same charlatans. If we don't want to get taken, we<br />

need to do this job for ourselves.<br />

One of the saddest lessons of history is this: if we've been<br />

bamboozled long enough, we tend to reject any evidence of the<br />

bamboozle. We're no longer interested in finding out the truth.<br />

The bamboozle has captured us. It's simply too painful to<br />

acknowledge, even to ourselves, that we've been taken. Once you<br />

give a charlatan power over you, you almost never get it back. So<br />

the old bamboozles tend to persist as the new ones rise.<br />

Seances occur only in darkened rooms, where the ghostly<br />

visitors can be seen dimly at best. If we turn up the lights a little,<br />

so we have a chance to see what's going on, the spirits vanish.<br />

They're shy, we're told, and some of us believe it. In twentiethcentury<br />

parapsychology laboratories, there is the 'observer effect':<br />

those described as gifted psychics find that their powers diminish<br />

markedly whenever sceptics arrive, and disappear altogether in<br />

the presence of a conjuror as skilled as James Randi. What they<br />

need is darkness and gullibility.<br />

A little girl who had been a co-conspirator in a famous<br />

nineteenth-century flimflam - spirit-rapping, in which ghosts<br />

answer questions by loud thumping - grew up and confessed it was<br />

an imposture. She was cracking the joint in her big toe. She<br />

demonstrated how it was done. But the public apology was largely<br />

ignored and, when acknowledged, denounced. Spirit-rapping was<br />

too reassuring to be abandoned merely on the say-so of a<br />

self-confessed rapper, even if she started the whole business in the<br />

first place. The story began to circulate that the confession was<br />

coerced out of her by fanatical rationalists.<br />

As I described earlier, British hoaxers confessed to having<br />

made 'crop circles', geometrical figures generated in grain fields.<br />

It wasn't alien artists working in wheat as their medium, but two<br />

blokes with a board, a rope and a taste for whimsy. Even when<br />

they demonstrated how they did it, though, believers were<br />

unimpressed. Maybe some of the crop circles are hoaxes, they<br />

230

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