OUP,  £20.00, ISBN 978-0-19-923920-7

A decade ago, Alan Sokal and Jean Bricmont published Intellectual Impostures: Postmodern Philosophers’ Abuse of Science, a book written to provide a context for Sokal’s glorious hoax, whereby he successfully submitted a parody of postmodern theorizing about science to the journal, Social Text. The journal’s editors snapped up what they took to be a valuable scoop: a professional physicist had defected, conceding that cognitive relativists and social constructivists were astute in their criticisms of the failures of scientific rationality.

Their jubilation was short-lived; Sokal came clean and confessed that the whole thing was a string of nonsense from start to finish, designed to highlight the silliest possible statements and “arguments” that had ever slipped from the word processors of Jacques Lacan, Julia Kristeva, Luce Irigaray, Bruno Latour, Jean Baudrillard, Gilles Deleuze, Felix Guattari, Paul Virilio and their awe-stuck admirers. The academic row that followed burst onto the pages of Le Monde, The New York Times and other newspapers and journals worldwide. Unravelling the issues was the job of that book, but the work is apparently not yet done.

This new book enables the uninitiated to catch up with what they missed, but those who already support Sokal in his defence of science might need some persuading to buy it. The original parody was reprinted in Intellectual Impostures, and now appears yet again, but this time with extensive annotations that match the length of the parody itself. Having new annotations facing the pages of an article that already carries footnotes may seem unappetizing, and the zig-zag reading can be a slow process, but the work is somewhat enlivened by Sokal’s humour and the fact that most of the targeted claims and doctrines are just hilariously inane. In the preface, Sokal faces down the issue of repetitiveness, even though, as he admits, only three of the ten chapters have not been published elsewhere, arguing that this collection makes a coherent whole. It is a useful collection, and, moreover, many chapters are updated versions of previous texts.

The chapter, Defense of a Modest Scientific Realism, is a welcome summary of his position, a response to the Science Studies tribe, who say things like: “The natural world has a small or non-existent role in the construction of scientific knowledge.” Of particular interest to skeptics, however, will be the lengthy chapter, Pseudoscience and postmodernism: Antagonists or fellow-travellers?

Here Sokal illustrates how some zealots of pseudoscience deploy postmodernist arguments when their threadbare stocks of evidence are challenged, and how postmodernists may be so keen to disparage science in their own skeptical way that they uncritically invoke the “findings” of various pseudosciences such as homeopathy and astrology as rival forms of knowledge. In making these moves, they may of course be oblivious of the contradictions involved, or even be contemptuous of attempts to expose them.  The first part of the chapter pursues these themes in the field of nursing, in the form of Therapeutic Touch and the influential ideas of Martha Rogers, while the second part explores their toxic presence in Hindu nationalism. Sokal concludes by admitting that there is less convergence of postmodernism and pseudoscience than he predicted, but maintains that, “by weakening the perceived intellectual and moral foundation for scientific thought, postmodernism abets pseudoscience and heightens [as Russell put it] the ‘ocean of insanity upon which the little barque of human reason insecurely floats’.”

The chapter ends with Sokal’s defence of his description of the Pope as “the leader of a major pseudoscientific cult”. All in all, this is a valuable and refreshing read.

Paul Taylor

Prometheus Books, ISBN-10: 1591025656

Another Gardner book is always good news, for both skeptics and aficionados of science and mathematics. Over the last fifty years, he has written nearly a hundred books, especially about mathematical puzzles and diversions. This latest volume is a collection covering a range of his own enthusiasms, which yields a slightly odd assortment in this case.

As he says himself in the Preface, he “may be the only non- Catholic admirer of Gilbert Chesterton”, and it is indeed fairly unlikely that readers of this journal would be committed readers of G. K. Chesterton’s detective fiction. In the section devoted to this writer, Gardner writes, “I’m well aware of his few faults – his unconscious anti-Semitism, his ignorance of science, his naïve political views – but I share his faith in a personal God”. For this reviewer Gardner’s theism is as baffling as some of his famous mathematical puzzles, but it has been pointed out before that if anyone with a scientific background might be susceptible to religious belief, those from the physical sciences are more prone than those trained in biology. Gardner is greatly interested in the controversies about super-strings and twistors in theoretical physics, and in reviews of books by Roger Penrose he pursues the question of the mind, reporting approvingly that Penrose’s “little finger tells him that the human mind is more than just a collection of tiny wires and switches”.

There may be few wires in the human head, but switches and connectors abound, and they got there through natural selection, like all the other systems and components that make life possible. This process is, of course, awe-inspiring but it is also non-teleological, and it is disappointing that Gardner has never managed to realize just how dangerous, as Dennett puts it, Darwin’s idea actually is for the theistic outlook.

A typographical error in the chapter on false memory may offer a new word for a belief that is, as Wolfgang Pauli is quoted as saying later in the book, “not even wrong”: hyponotism.

Gardner’s reviews and articles on mathematics and physics are interesting enough, although there is a fair amount of repetition involved across the various texts. He defends a kind of Platonism in mathematics: the structures and theorems of mathematics are objectively real, rather than merely cultural constructions. “Penrose finds it incomprehensible (as do I) that anyone could suppose that [the Mandelbrot set] is not as much ‘out there’ as Mount Everest is, subject to exploration in the way a jungle is explored.”

The first section, Science, Math, and Baloney, begins with an article about the False Memory Wars, and goes on to include mathematical fiction: short stories such as The Jinn from Hyperspace. The section on literature, mostly concerning Chesterton, ends, unusually with an early attempt at free verse, So Long Old Girl, an elegy for a decommissioned warship that Gardner had served on. This is reminiscent of some of Buckminster Fuller’s poetry on industrial/technological themes, but is, unfortunately, quite unseaworthy. Gardner wisely admits as much: “I am not much of a poet”.

He is an enormously engaging writer, though, and pays tribute to two other writers in the final sections of the book. Part Three concerns L. Frank Baum, the author of The Wizard of Oz, and the book ends with a collection of five introductions to books by Lewis Carroll. Gardner’s closing sentence can be applied to his own work: “If you are not yet acquainted with Alice’s adventures in Wonderland and behind the mirror, read on and enjoy!”

Paul Taylor

Atlantic Books,  £7.99 (pb), ISBN 10: 1843546760

This book is an impressive new addition to the now well-established genre of sceptical works critiquing largely irrational ‘fringe’ theories relating to matters of science and history, especially those which (although often absurd) manifest a degree of superficial plausibility for the non-specialist reader and have thus had unwarranted influence on public thinking and policy.

This pattern is salient in countries such as Islamic theocracies where the local culture encourages non-scientific world views, and one feature of Thompson’s book is a greater emphasis on Islamic fundamentalism than is usual (some critics plainly fear the consequences of criticising such positions).  But such ideas are also very widespread indeed in ‘the West’, where ‘alternative spirituality’ (often set up as a rival to the scientific world-view) is now strong and where Christian fundamentalism and associated creationist theories have not been decisively weakened by the vast evidence supporting evolutionary theory.

Thompson rightly objects to the influence of religion (and sheer irrationality) in support of quasi-factual statements that run contrary to accumulated empirical evidence.  He urges lay readers to accept genuine huge-majority consensuses in mainstream academic thought as provisionally valid.  And he also analyses the origins of ‘counter-knowledge’ of the various kinds that he surveys, and the factors which promote its acceptance.  These latter include: the popularity of postmodernism and relativism in intellectual circles, the apparent complicity of universities in the ‘dumbing-down’ of their offerings and in dubious links with commercial organisations, and the recent technology-driven explosion of largely uncontrolled sources of misinformation.

Thompson’s range is obviously wide, but I instantiate from his chapter on ‘pseudohistory’.  Here he discusses Menzies’ popular and adroitly promoted theories about early modern Chinese influence around the world, the huge literature surrounding the Templars and their alleged legacy, various hyper-diffusionist claims about the early Americas, ‘ancient astronaut’ and ‘lost civilisation’ theories such as those of von Daniken and Hancock, and Afrocentrism. Thompson focuses very usefully on early modern non-standard thought and critiques by well-informed forerunners of the modern sceptical movement, as well as more recent sceptical sources.

There are only occasional points of concern, e.g. on p. 79, where Thompson arguably treats Rudgley’s ideas as better founded than they are.  But the length of the book precludes full assessment of all cases discussed by way of exemplification.  In general, Thompson’s book can be very highly recommended as an initial source for argumentation, and if necessary as an antidote to the kind of thinking which he critiques.

Prometheus Books, £12.99 (pb), ISBN-10: 1591025834

This book could probably only have been published in America, though it may not be as widely read there as it should be. The obsession of American fundamentalists with eschatology – beliefs about the end of the world – seems as tenacious as ever and Robert Price, a professor of scriptural studies, examines in detail these beliefs and their origins in mistaken interpretations of the New Testament.

Ideas such as the Rapture, Messianic Prophecy, the Antichrist, and the Second coming are central to the evangelical world view and form the basis of a corporate eschatology, in which whole groups of the saved will simultaneously vanish from the earth, leaving their clothes behind, along with the unbelievers who will have to face the last judgment. How do you ensure you are among the saved? Simple: just stop being an intellectual (i.e. stop thinking) and accept the Bible as literal historical truth, forgetting all those nit-picking interpretations of what it might all have meant in another time and context.

The Second Coming is of course the one great testable prediction of Christianity and has been falsified as often as it has been made, so why does the belief persist? Currently fashionable is the theory of preterism: the New Testament prophecies, including the Second Coming have already been fulfilled, we have just not noticed or understood them. There are after all plenty of candidates for the role of Antichrist. Just think of Napoleon, Hitler, and Stalin.

Underneath all this is a heady psychological brew of paranoia, delusions of grandeur and persecution complex: true Christians are hated simply for being Christians, only we have seen the truth, the whole world is wrong (and we look forward to seeing you suffer when the end does finally come). In the last two decades, though, there has been less emphasis on the Second coming and more on the world as it is, as fundamentalists have abandoned their indifference to electoral politics, with the predictable malign effects on American society. There is a detailed overview of the many Apocalypse and Antichrist novels from both secular and religious publishing houses in America, including the Left Behind series by LaHaye and Jenkins.

Apocalypse is fairly scholarly in tone but with a leavening of humour, and is a useful guide to the evangelical/fundamentalist scene in America. There is a lengthy scripture index for those of you who can be bothered to argue with your local Holy Rollers the next time they come knocking on your door.

Piatkus, £9.99 (pb), ISBN-10: 0749927607

Many non-mainstream thinkers are currently focusing on the now familiar fact that the 5000-year Mayan “Long Count” reaches an endpoint in December 2012. In this book, Pinchbeck presents an unusually complex case for the genuine significance of this crisis.  He argues (in the tradition of Capra, etc.) that Mayan ideas about the upcoming changes coincide not only with similar traditions in other, supposedly unrelated, cultures but also, dramatically, with modern scientific notions (suggesting much greater sophistication than mainstream scholars would attribute to the Maya). Humanity, he says, should modify its world-view so as to be ready for these changes and to move into a radically different future, embracing ecological imperatives (inevitably!) and accepting overtly spiritual aspects of existence.

Although Pinchbeck is well-informed on some of the relevant issues and at times sober and even scholarly, large sections of his book are intensely emotional and indeed personal and subjective; parts are semi-autobiographical.  While revealing, this element of the work is distracting to the modernist scholar, and must often be factored out in attempts to assess the claims made.  The vastly multi-disciplinary scope of the work also hinders evaluation by any one reader, given the (only partly beneficial) specialisation of modern scholarship.

Pinchbeck has rather little to say about matters within my own professional expertise (linguistics), but it has to be said that where he does address such points he displays only a very scanty awareness of the discipline, accepting too readily any points that appear to support his case and failing to acknowledge associated problems.  For instance, he uses the dated and highly unreliable etymological methods typical of the fringe (e.g., pp. 202-203, where he follows the eccentric Arguelles on links between the word “Maya” and superficially similar words from other cultures); he accepts an extreme interpretation of Chomsky’s points about the allegedly mysterious origins of language, and indeed ignores the strong cases made within linguistics against Chomskyan ideas generally (p. 174); he accepts as probably valid Stevenson’s ideas about reincarnation without acknowledging the weakness of the linguistic arguments prominently used in their support (pp. 171-172). This is the area I myself know best, and Pinchbeck’s performance here does not inspire any confidence at all.

And, more generally, even a non-expert can observe that Pinchbeck’s presentation is often fatally one-sided.  He accepts the reality of spiritual entities and paranormal phenomena, treating writers such as Radin as authoritative (pp. 36-38, etc.) and ignoring persuasive sceptical criticisms of this kind of work; he displays exaggerated respect for ‘deep ecological’ thinking (pp. 5-8, etc.) and for traditional myths (pp. 10-11, etc.); he repeats the common but much overstated condemnation of mainstream scientists and sceptics as hidebound (p. 5, 11, etc.).  Although it seems highly unlikely that a major crisis specifically centred on December 2012 really looms, Pinchbeck may perhaps have an arguable case for some of his more specific claims.  But, unless he can disengage his emotions somewhat and consider more fairly the weighty objections to the ideas that he favours, he will not persuade the sceptical or scientifically-trained reader.

Pocket Essentials, £9.99  (hb), ISBN 978-1-904048-88-6

It’s hard to see the purpose of this book, which offers no new insights or information, just a series of potted biographies of people and groups in London, some more occult than others, padded with historical background.

Even for a reader with no knowledge of the occult, this would be an insubstantial introduction. It frequently mentions works by, for example, Peter Ackroyd and Iain Sinclair but this only points up the book’s inadequacies and how much more could be learnt from reading them.

The Mary Glover witchcraft case in the early 17th century doesn’t even mention which part of London it happened in and appears randomly chosen. The section on William Blake offers little more than a quick skip through his life and a list of London addresses that could just as easily be found on Wikipedia.

The author describes the occult as “a continuous history which unfolds, largely unacknowledged…” He claims to “rediscover [the] hidden history, unearthing the secret city and its forgotten inhabitants” and states that the occult “comes to symbolise those neglected quarters of the city and their forgotten histories”. Exactly who has forgotten such high-profile figures as John Dee, Hawksmoor, William Blake or Aleister Crowley and places like Spitalfields or Highgate Cemetery? It’s less a case of unearthing secrets than “round up the usual suspects”. To be fair, Spring-Heeled Jack is less well known but not really an occult figure, more an urban legend.

The Appendix lists various parts of London with occult associations but these are flimsily covered and consist mostly of general his torical information, for example, the Hawksmoor church in Bloomsbury and the (now gone) Mother Red Cap pub in Camden. The entry on Tyburn has more about the nuns who currently live in a small convent there than its occult past.

The size of the book is no excuse; another Pocket Essential, The History of Witchcraft by Lois Martin, manages to be scholarly and readable, neatly summing up the main points without skimping on detail. This book does none of those things.