Pseudoscience and the Paranormal: Science and the Paranormal
by Terence Hines
Prometheus Books, $21.00, ISBN 1573929794

Is there no limit to the number of strange things people believe? This updated edition of Terence Hines’ 1988 book offers an intriguing and sometimes dispiriting introduction to the strange world of pseudoscience.
Hines covers a wide range of topics including so-called psychics, life after death, psychology and parapsychology, astrology, UFOs, faith healing, alternative medicine and other fads of the past two centuries. All the usual suspects are here – the Bermuda Triangle, the Turin Shroud, the Roswell ‘aliens’ and many more. Hines gives an admirably concise summary of each, and sums up the main arguments against them.
The inevitable drawback is that there is insufficient space for a detailed discussion of each subject, but Hines gives a useful and wide-ranging bibliography which will help readers explore any or all of these topics further.
The section on faith healing is particularly fascinating, exploring the sad truth behind so-called ‘cures’. Hines cites the case of one cancer patient who suffered severe spinal injuries as a direct result of her ‘miracle cure’. She was one of many who died despite their supposed ‘cures’.
Some of Hines’ topics are more controversial. He casts doubts on many aspects of Freudian psychology and on some environmental health scares. Perhaps a third edition could include a better index. For example, given that the first illustration in the book is one of the Cottingley fairy photographs, it’s frustrating to find that the index has no entry for “Cottingley Fairies”. (The case is indexed under “Doyle” instead.) Some of the illustrations are very poorly reproduced. But these are minor quibbles with a useful and interesting book, which serves as a valuable examination of a wide range of hoaxes, frauds and popular delusions.

Inamorata
by Joseph Gangemi
Viking, $24.95 ISBN 0-67-03279-4

I suspect that many of us who are intrigued by paranormal
phenomena also enjoy a good mystery. Inamorata satisfies
both appetites.
In his first novel, Joseph Gangemi takes us to Philadelphia during a revival of the Spiritualist movement. It’s 1922 and the Scientific American has offered $5,000 for conclusive evidence of psychic phenomena.
Our protagonist, 23-year old Harvard psychology graduate student Martin Finch, works for a professor who is the head of judges for the Scientific American contest. Finch’s job is to investigate the contestants’ claims of psychic ability. After exposing several frauds, Finch is assigned to Philadelphia in his professor’s stead to investigate a medium, Mina Crawley, who has come highly recommended by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Upon arrival and exposure to Mina’s feminine charms, Finch must fight to keep his investigative objectivity. The story’s suspense intensifies as Mina’s abilities are tested and her relationship with Finch develops. He explores several possible explanations for Mina’s ability. Is it supernatural as claimed? Is it an extremely well-executed magician’s trick? Or does his own field of study, psychology, hold the answer? Readers who are familiar with paranormal history may recognize many of the characters names from reallife. The allusions to the sexual behaviour of Mina’s husband, Dr Arthur Crawley, may however seem over-thetop for readers not familiar with English magician and occultist Aleister Crowley. With references to the Catholic church and a dying sceptic’s admission that he wanted to be proven wrong, we are reminded how powerfully the human psyche needs to believe – to project itself into an eternal existence.
Finch and his professor primarily, and other characters to some degree, each struggle with the tension between believing and not believing. I like that Gangemi stays true to this tension, deftly weaving evidence for multiple explanations for Mina’s seeming success as a medium. Ultimately, he lets the reader decide what or whether to believe.
Gangemi’s degree in psychology is put to good use with specific descriptions of mental disorders and psychological theories. It’s always nice to accidentally learn something while reading for pleasure. And a pleasure it was.

Alicia Hill Ruiz

Hoaxes, Myths and Manias: Why We Need Critical Thinking
by Robert E Bartholomew and Benjamin Radford
Prometheus, ISBN 1591020484

Readers of this journal will hardly need to be instructed in the need for critical thinking, of course, but you could usefully put this book into the hands of a bright youngster who shows disquieting signs of tending to believe what he is told. By following the guidelines lucidly set out in the introductory chapters, he will learn to avoid the pitfalls of credulity and grow up to be as leery a doubter as you or me. Discussion of general themes such as “what is normal?” and “memory reconstruction” will open his eyes to the wider picture, teaching him that normality is a relative concept, and that witness testimony is a fragile commodity to be handled with care.
These general themes are illustrated with a fascinating diversity of case histories which demonstrate those principles in action. Drawing largely on articles previously published in The Skeptical Inquirer, and solidly backed with extensive references, they range from the flying saucer myth to shrinking genitals panics, from mad gassers to invading Martians. The astonishing chronicle of England’s black helicopters, contributed by that doughty investigator David Clarke, admirably shows how the media and witnesses between them conjure up a mass delusion which impresses by its extent – until it is disassembled item by crumbling item.
The book is evidently aimed at use in an educational context, to judge by the set of questions at the end of each chapter. But readers of any age – this elderly reviewer included – will learn much from this excellent manual, which I strongly recommend.

Hilary Evans

Why We Exist: Inferences from Science for an Explanation of Human Purpose
by Eugene Bell-Gam
Pen Press Publishers Ltd, £9.99, ISBN 1-904018-86-6

Judging by the title alone I thought this book might be an interesting read even if I disagreed with the author’s conclusions. Unfortunately, when I read the blurb on the back warning bells started to ring when I saw questions like “Where did our life force come from?” and “Where does it go when we die?”. The mention of a “life force” suggested some kind of quasi religious viewpoint, but Bell-Gam’s thesis is far worse than that though – it’s bizarre.
Early chapters in this slim volume (it’s less than 200 pages) focus on origins, and it’s here one starts to groan when anti-evolutionary, creationist, and intelligent design arguments are trotted out. It’s curious why he’s sympathetic to young earth creationism because it’s not crucial to his thesis, but it is to some brands of biblical literalism. Bell-Gam believes that we are part of a cosmic experiment, what he calls the Solar Laboratory Theory.
His evidence for this comes from arguments for intelligent design and several spurious analogies between the brain and computer technology. By the time he got round to explaining his view of human purpose I’d lost interest; he doesn’t have anything original or especially insightful to say about it anyway. One is left with the impression that a modest knowledge of science has been mixed with pseudoscience and a hefty dose of muddled thinking.
A quick investigation showed that Pen Press is a self-publishing outfit which charges authors to publish and market their work. I can only conclude that Bell-Gam should have saved his money, and that readers save their money by avoiding this over-priced nonsense.
The only positive thing about this book is that the writing is quite good and there are references at the end of each chapter.

Dene Bebbington

Love and Eugenics in the Late Nineteenth Century: Rational Reproduction and the New Woman
by Angelique Richardson
Oxford University Press, £45, ISBN 0198187009

Nowadays eugenics is a dirty word, calling to mind Nazi experiments and compulsory sterilisation. But a hundred years ago it was a hotly debated topic. There was great concern over perceived racial degeneration in Britain, particularly the prevalence of hereditary diseases and the ill-health and poor physique of large slum families. Eugenicists argued that selective breeding was the answer to both problems. If only the healthiest people bred, the race would improve.
Some commentators argued that any woman wishing to marry should choose the husband most likely to give her healthy children, disregarding such complicating factors as love and sexual attraction. Having as many healthy babies as possible was seen as a woman’s duty and destiny. Fin de siècle feminist writers such as Mona Caird, George Egerton and Sarah Grand took up this debate, exploring the eugenics question in short stories, novels and journalism.  Richardson’s book examines these women’s work, exploring ways in which the eugenics debate informed wider debates on the role of women and the nature of marriage. Some of the issues have uncomfortable resonances with today’s arguments about genetic screening and ‘designer babies’. Are we as different from the Victorians as we would like to think?

Chris Willis

Science and Pseudoscience in Clinical Psychology
by Scott O. Lilienfeld, Steven Jay Lynn, Jeffrey M. Lohr (Editors)
Guilford Press, 2003, £31.95, ISBN 1572308281

This is a US product, so “clinical psychology” covers all kinds of psychotherapy. It is a round-up of recent research on speculative conditions and controversial treatments, and even clinicians’ ability to learn from experience (they’re not very good at it).
Some of the research may be familiar, but it is good to have it all in one place. And it can’t be repeated too often that Americans don’t spontaneously claim to be 127 different people, or to have been abused by Satanists or abducted by aliens. These ideas arise in therapy after months, sometimes years, of hypnosis, suggestion and leading questions. One vulnerable client produced 4,500 alter egos; others claimed to share their skull with “Mr Spock, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, lobsters, chickens, gorillas, tigers, unicorns, God, the bride of Satan, and the rock star Madonna.”
So much for dodgy diagnoses; wait till we get to the New Age therapies. The list of unsupported assumptions behind these includes extraterrestrials, magic and past lives, but also dogmas beloved of North London media folk such as “abuse experienced in early childhood is the root cause of all psychological and emotional problems”, “catharsis brings cure” and “the treatment technique does all the ‘hard work’ . . . change occurs ‘naturally’ . . . ”
Now we come to controversial treatments for accepted conditions such as post-traumatic stress disorder. Among others the authors compare EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing – you follow the therapist’s wagging finger with your eyes) and Critical Incident Stress Debriefing (group counselling soon after a traumatic event). Common sense suggests that EMDR is unlikely to be effective, and it isn’t – but neither is debriefing.
By this time the reader should be getting the message that common sense can’t be relied on, that all psychologists should be educated in research methods, and that all treatments should be examined. This is a fascinating read, a reminder that America is the land of snake oil salesmen and that reasonable theories believed by all right-thinking people may be snake oil too.

Lucy Fisher

Are Universes Thicker Than Blackberries?: Discourses on Godel, Magic Hexagrams, Little Red Riding Hood, and Other Mathematical and Pseudoscientific Topics
By Martin Gardner
W. W. Norton & Company, $25.95, ISBN 0-393-05742-9

Some of us cut our sceptics’ teeth on Martin Gardner’s Facts and Fallacies in the Name of Science. Originally published some fifty years ago, it was a review of pseudoscience in all its many varieties, glories and irrationalities.
Now, some 65 to 75 books later, we have another collection of amusing and insightful short essays by the same author. Like several earlier volumes it is a collection of articles Gardner published in the American The Skeptical Inquirer, of book reviews and other essays from hither and yon.
The subtitle provides a good view of the wide variety of topics taken up by the author. The 31 pieces are divided into sections on Science, Mathematics, Religion, Literature, and Moonshine. The author himself admits “the categories … are somewhat arbitrary.” (p. xi) To call the book a miscellaneous collection is not to belittle it. Where else could you learn about a religion, Oahspe, which lasted from 1882 until 1918, and was part of the extensive spiritualist movement? The title story, located in the science section, examines the multiverse idea. A new universe comes into existence every time a quantum uncertainty is solved. Schrödinger’s Cat both lives and dies, each in a new universe. Which means there exists a practical infinity of very similar worlds. Gardner makes it clear he cannot for a moment believe this cosmology, and marvels “at the low state to which today’s philosophy of science has fallen” (p. 9). At the other extreme, under Moonshine, the author disposes of the farce of “Facilitated Communication,” “Distant Healing,” “Therapeutic Touch,” “Primal Scream Therapy,” and other humbug. The book is a fun read that will fill a long evening.

Wolf Roder

Immortal Remains: The Evidence for Life After Death
By Stephen E Braude
Rowman & Littlefield, 2003, [no price indicated] ISBN 0-7425-1472-2

“Rascals! Would you live for ever?”, Frederick the Great reproached his dilatory guards. No doubt all readers of The Skeptic look forward cheerfully to post mortem oblivion, but in case some of you conserve some atavistic doubts as to whether that is your destiny, here is Stephen Braude offering an alternative scenario. It is not necessarily a convincing one. Even though he has chosen to present only a handful of the most challenging cases, each is ambiguous in its conclusions. Even when the apparition of a deceased accountant returns to his son and reveals the error which clouded his reputation, this could be explained by psi, or super-psi, or something which, however improbable, at least allows us to duck out of accepting survival as the only way it could have happened.
Braude is at least as skeptical as any of his readers is likely to be. He allows himself to be persuaded by the evidence only when he has analysed it in detail – often mind-numbing detail. Though he writes clearly and directly, his book is heavy going simply because he invites you to accompany him, step by careful step, through the complexities of cases where nothing need be what it seems to be and no-one’s word can be trusted.
I doubt if it could be done better. He knows about mediumship, he knows about reincarnation, he knows about possession and dissociation, and he knows that all these subject areas are minefields for the unwary. But he knows, too, that they may also be gold fields, rich in information about ourselves, the way our minds work. And – who knows ? – whether you and I will live for ever.

Hilary Evans