This article provides a current review of thinking on the phenomena
of paranormal experience. What needs to be remembered though is that
there is a subset of reports that do not succumb to analysis at all.
My own thoughts on the matter can be described as follows:
1 The mind's activity is echoed fractally through all Space and
plausibly Time in both directions. This is a conjecture that can be
used for explanation and importantly be tested.
2 These echos can resonate with another mind and sometimes be
successfully interpreted.
3 This is plausible in terms of the true nature of particle physics
as I understand it.
With this perspective, it is obviously difficult for the perceiving
mind to pick up information even with training of some sort.
Certainly meditation represents such training as prayer in its
intense form.
Of course most such perceptions are outright clouded and distorted by
our own active thoughts so clear signals tend to stand out.
Your Sixth Sense
Perhaps you've lived
this moment before. Perhaps you're seeing yourself at a distance, as
never before. Anomalous experiences are real and life-changing. That
doesn't mean they occur outside your own head.
By Matthew Hutson,
published on July 03, 2012 - last reviewed on July 09, 2012
Chances are, at some
point in your life, you've felt someone staring at you. Maybe you
were at the grocery store. Maybe walking along the sidewalk. Maybe
sitting on a bus. And sure enough, when you turned your head to look,
the suspect's eyes met yours.
You just had an
anomalous experience.
The job of the
conscious mind is to form a story out of all our sensations and
reflections. Life as we experience it is not just a series of
unconnected thoughts and events; it's a coherent narrative unfolding
in an orderly universe. But sometimes we have experiences that don't
fit our expectations and may even contradict what science has taught
us is possible. In our attempts to accommodate such outlier
phenomena, we often turn to unproven forces or entities. We start to
believe in the paranormal.
\
Anomalous experience
of this sort ranges from sensing a strange vibe in a room to feeling
outside your own body. We often explain such experiences using
concepts related to spirits, luck, witchcraft, psychic powers, life
energy, or more terrestrial (and extraterrestrial) entities. Such
explanations are often more appealing, or at least more intuitive,
than blaming an odd experience on a trick of the mind.\
\
One of the most
common anomalous experiences is the sense of being stared at.
When you see someone gazing directly at you, emotions become
activated—it can be exciting or comforting or creepy—and this
visceral charge can give the impression that gazes transfer energy.
Further, if you feel uncomfortable and check to see whether someone
is looking at you, your movement may draw attention—confirming your
suspicions.\
Another common
experience is déjà vu, a phenomenon two in three people report.
Most of us shrug it off as a mental hiccup. Indeed, researchers
propose it's a sense of familiarity without a recollection of why
something is familiar, or perhaps a timing issue in the brain where
thoughts are experienced twice because of a slight wiring delay,
lending the second occurrence an odd sensation of repetition. But
some people believe it's a glimpse into a past life.
While anomalous
experiences may be associated with stressful circumstances, personal
pathologies, or cognitive deficits, the experiences
themselves may not always be so bad, and may actually be healthy
inventions. They're just our attempts to make sense of a weird
situation. After all, there's nothing the mind likes better than
a good story.
Meaningful
Coincidences
Alex and Donna
Voutsinas were leafing through family photo albums a week before
their wedding in 2002 when one picture caught Alex's eye. In the
foreground was Donna, five years old, posing at Disney World with one
of the Seven Dwarves. Behind them was Alex's father pushing a
stroller. And in the stroller was Alex. The boy's family was visiting
from Canada, and the two children would not meet until 15 years
later. When he saw the photo, Alex said, "I got chills. It was
just too much of a coincidence. It was fate."
Nearly anyone would
get chills in such a situation, but it takes a lot less—hearing the
same new word twice in an hour, meeting someone who shares our
birthday—to make us pause and say, "Well, how about that!"
Such moments occur when we spot patterns, an ability (and compulsion)
built into the brain from the earliest stages of perception.
Pattern-finding lets us make sense of sensory input (those four legs
are part of a table) and to predict regularities in our environment
(apples fall down, not up; they're often tasty; and throwing them
makes people mad).
Pattern-finding is
so central to survival and success that we see patterns everywhere,
even in random data—a phenomenon called apophenia. We spot
faces in clouds and hear messages in records played backward. And
while we expect some level of order in the world, on occasion our
pattern-spotting gets away from us and makes a connection we wouldn't
expect. When that happens, we demand, at least subconsciously, an
explanation.
It turns out that
our favorite kinds of explanations involve "agents"—beings
capable of intentional action. The agent could be a person, a god, or
a superintelligent robot. We're biased to blame even
simple events on agents—spotting them or their footprints allows us
to manage them if they are dangerous: It is better to mistake a twig
for a snake than to mistake a snake for a twig.
\
Unconscious pattern
recognition underlies a variety of automatic processes, including
those we associate with accurate intuitions or a sixth sense (see
II Psychic Abilities on page 2). Sensing danger in a combat zone
or suddenly "knowing" that a partner is cheating or a
friend is pregnant are instances in which we've pieced a pattern
together wholly unconsciously. The suddenness with which it bursts
into our consciousness can feel as if the hunch is born of
clairvoyance.
Some people are too
good at spotting patterns. In the run-up to his killing of John
Lennon, Mark David Chapman noted all kinds of coincidences and saw
them as signs to proceed. He once drew 50 connections between Holden
Caulfield's time in New York City in The Catcher in the Rye and
his own life there prior to the murder. He may have been suffering
from schizophrenia, a disease characterized by overactive
dopamine transmission. This neurotransmitter helps us find
meaningful connections between things. But the same excessive
pattern-finding that sends some people off the rails can lead others
to be creative, as insight requires yoking distantly related
ideas.
One way to interpret
apparent order is to invoke a sign from "above."
(Or bullying from above: A man whose house has received six
meteorite strikes told a reporter, "I am obviously being
targeted by extraterrestrials.") Other patterns lend themselves
to conspiracy theories. (There's a significant correlation between
belief in the paranormal and in conspiracies.)
A key trait that
predicts a belief in conspiracy theories is paranoia. When
paranoid, you're always on the lookout for agents (including secret
agents) working against you. A bit of anxiety is good—it keeps
you on your toes—but with high doses you could find yourself living
in a cabin in the woods. A personality trait called "openness to
experience" also enables paranoid beliefs, as curiosity and
imagination invite new ideas, including those that are so fringe they
strike others as paranoid. People who are distrustful and hostile are
also likely to be suspicious of authority. And those with an external
locus of control, who downplay their own influence on their lives,
tend to blame things on other parties, including fate or secret
cabals.
Another trait that may
be responsible for beliefs in conspiracies, fate, and a sixth sense
is the tendency to trust your hunches. In one study, intuitive
subjects showed more referential thinking, which is the belief that
people are talking about you or that everyday events like traffic
light changes are meant specially for you.
Faith in intuition has
been linked to other types of magical thinking, too. When
intuitive, "gut-trusting" thinkers watched videos of
alleged paranormal activity—UFOs and ghosts—they were more likely
than other subjects to say they'd react emotionally if they were to
witness the activity themselves. Our guts, apparently, really want
to believe.
Psychic Abilities
Aberfan is a town in
Wales that few people, even in the U.K., had heard of before 1966.
Then disaster struck, haunting people's dreams—including,
apparently, dreams preceding the accident.
A mountain of material
from a coal mine had become soaked from heavy rains, and on the
morning of October 21, a landslide swept into town, hitting a school
and several houses. Twenty-eight adults and 116 children died. A
psychiatrist named J.C. Barker put out a call for people who'd had
premonitions of the event. He received dozens of letters in which
people described dreams of avalanches, children, and the name
Aberfan. Most strikingly, the parents of one girl who'd
died in the accident said that she'd reported a dream just the day
before her death: "I dreamt I went to school and there was no
school there," she'd said. "Something black had come down
all over it!"
According to a Gallup
poll, two in three Americans believe in or aren't sure about ESP, a
category of phenomena that includes precognition, remote viewing, and
mental telepathy.
Scientists can't
explain away every particular instance of presumed ESP, but they've
identified broad psychological forces at play. One
is our selective attention. You probably think about your friends
a lot, and they probably call you a lot, but when those thoughts and
calls overlap we note a coincidence, ignoring all the times they
don't overlap.
We also have
unreliable memory. Just imagining a past experience can create
the false impression that it really happened, so memories of
"precognitive" dreams can be twisted to fit the event they
were supposedly precognizant of. And then there is our
egocentrism. Research shows that we find coincidences involving
ourselves much more surprising than identical coincidences involving
others, because we feel we're somehow special. (Yes, I know, you
really are special.)
Another phenomenon
that relies on coincidence is the sense of psychokinesis (PK), or
mind over matter. Brisk sales of the book The Secret, with its
"law of attraction," whereby picturing an outcome attracts
it to you, demonstrates our hunger for and credence in PK.
Rhonda Byrne,The Secret's author, reports that she cured her eyesight
and lost weight just through wishful thinking. One set of studies by
the psychologist Emily Pronin and colleagues revealed a bias to
believe in mental causation even among Ivy League students. They were
convinced that they'd caused another student's headache by sticking
pins in a voodoo doll and that they'd influenced the outcome of the
Super Bowl just by watching it on TV and focusing on the plays.
Pronin argues that
apparent mental causation relies on the same rules of thumb we use to
assess causation anywhere. Typically, if event A happens before event
B, if there are no other obvious causes of B, and if A and B are
conceptually similar, A appears to have caused B. This line of
thinking applies automatically, even if event A is merely a thought.
As with most forms of
paranormal belief, people who do not feel in control of their lives
are more likely to believe in precognition, perhaps because to accept
premonitions is to think that the future is already laid out for you,
without your input.
Peter Brugger, the
head of neuropsychology at University Hospital Zurich, has found that
the people most likely to believe in and experience mind over
matter and precognition are pattern-spotters. They're more likely
to see briefly-flashed strings of letters as words and jumbled images
as faces, and they're faster to come up with a word that forms a
conceptual bridge between two other words. The experience of ESP or
psychokinesis first requires seeing a connection between a thought
and an event.
People high in
sensation-seeking— those who search for novelty and exciting
stimuli—also report more paranormal beliefs and experiences.
Perhaps they're drawn to the idea of a world inhabited by mysterious
forces. So, being a pattern-finding sensation-seeker means you're
more likely to experience odd coincidences in the first place, and
then more likely to entertain unconventional explanations for them. A
one-two punch.
III
Near-Death and Out-
Of-Body Experiences
On February 1, 2000,
Pam Barrett was the leader of Alberta's New Democratic Party when she
went to see her dentist. She asked to have veneers installed but
would undergo a much deeper transformation in the bargain.
Barrett had a severe
allergic reaction to the anesthetic. Her throat closed up and she
couldn't breathe. She sat upright and told her dentist she was going
to die, then had a near-death experience (NDE) during which she felt
that she had left her body and was looking down on it from above. The
dentist gave her CPR until an ambulance came. At the hospital, she
had the experience again. As she "returned," she felt God
punching her in the chest and telling her to get on a new path. The
next day Barrett held a press conference and retired from politics.
Between 6 and 12
percent of cardiac arrest patients report having an NDE, but such
perceptions can also result from trauma, fear, or drugs,
or have no apparent cause. Proposed explanatory brain mechanisms
include too much or too little oxygen, too much carbon dioxide, and
the blocking of glutamate receptors. Descriptions of such glimpses go
back thousands of years, and they share common themes across
cultures. Typically you hear a buzzing or ringing as you move through
a dark tunnel. You can see your own body. You meet the spirits of
loved ones. You have flashbacks of your life and feel joy but
eventually turn away from the light and return to Earth.
Many people take NDEs
to be evidence of life after death, but the British psychologist
Susan Blackmore and others have attempted to explain each of the
elements physiologically. The tunnel and the light might result from
lack of oxygen in the visual cortex. Abnormal activity in the
temporal lobes can cause flashbacks. A sense of pleasure results from
endorphin release. After being resuscitated, people sometimes claim
to have witnessed the events happening around them while they were
clinically dead, but these accounts could result from informed
guesswork or false memories.
Out-of-body
experiences (OBEs) can occur independently of NDEs, and somewhere
between 5 and 20 percent of healthy people have one at some point.
Most researchers believe OBEs occur when we can't integrate all of
the input regarding our location in space—vision, touch, balance,
and sense of body position. Damage to or electrical stimulation of
the temporoparietal junction, an area in the brain that brings these
senses together, often leads to OBEs.
Recently Jason
Braithwaite at the University of Birmingham has shown that people who
experience OBEs (and if you have one, you're likely to have more than
one) have greater cortical hyperexcitability, which means waves of
activity in the brain are easily triggered. Such activity can distort
sensory perception.
The neurologist Kevin
Nelson argues that NDEs and OBEs might result from abnormalities in
the arousal system, which regulates our states of consciousness. He
has shown that people who have such anomalous experiences also report
having more REM intrusion—those half-dreaming states we
sometimes enter while falling asleep or waking up.
Willoughby Britton of
Brown University has shown that experiencers do not show worse coping
abilities. "There is a tendency to pathologize unusual
or religious experiences," Britton says. "It's
easy to jump to the unfounded conclusion that 'their brains are
messed up; they must be crazy.' But the more positive coping styles
of these experiencers indicate that they are very psychologically
healthy."
Pam Barrett would
argue that her experience even increased her mental health.
Afterward, she told a conference, "I learned to stop judging and
to start doing what's right in life."
IV
Contact With Spirits
In March 1994, Stephen
Young went on trial in England for the gruesome murder of Harry and
Nicola Fuller. The jury returned a verdict of guilty on the
second day of deliberation, but not before consulting the ghost of
Harry.
The night of the first
day of deliberation, four of the jurors set up a makeshift game of
Ouija in their hotel. Fuller soon joined the party, telling the four
that Stephen Young had killed him and that they should vote guilty.
"I was crying by this time, and the other ladies were upset as
well," one juror later said. They ended the game and reported
their findings to the other jurors the next morning. When the judge
eventually learned of the séance he ordered a retrial. Young was
once again convicted, this time using evidence only from living
witnesses.
According to Gallup,
32 percent of Americans claim that spirits of the dead can return,
and 37 percent believe in haunted houses. Another 16 percent aren't
sure. Most paranormal encounters don't make particularly gripping
ghost stories. They consist of seeing something out of the corner of
an eye or hearing an odd sound late at night, perceptions that can
usually be blamed on drafts, tricks of the light, or family pets.
Further, once you have it in your head that you might see or hear
something, your brain is often happy to oblige by presenting a
hallucination, especially when you're tired or scared.
Perhaps the most
compelling evidence of a visitation is what's called a sense of
presence—the feeling that an agent is with you, typically less than
a few feet away. Such a sense has been explained as a form of
out-of-body experience in which your body image is doubled.
Researchers have also proposed that we have an evolved system for
sensing the presence of others—after all, you're often aware that
someone is near you even without consciously recognizing the signals
you're picking up on. (Close your eyes while sitting next to someone
to experience this effect.) Perhaps we can have hallucinations of
this sense.
A feeling of presence
often arises in extreme environments and situations, such as when one
is cold or isolated or at high altitude, or when one is suffering
from exhaustion, fear, hunger, or monotony. Mountaineers
often report such hallucinations. Sir Ernest Shackleton wrote that
during one 36-hour Antarctica march, "It seemed to me often that
we were four, not three," and his companions had the same
"curious feeling." Fear and loneliness have both
been shown to amplify our detection of agents in our environment;
they put us on high alert for intruders or companions in our midst.
Bereavement enhances
the chances of a visitor. When loved ones do stop by, it's usually in
the first year after their deaths. Survivors might see or hear
something or, more commonly, just have a feeling of closeness. Or,
more rarely, extreme closeness: In the 1970s, Elisabeth Kübler-Ross,
the psychiatrist made famous by her five stages of grief model,
set up aspiritual retreat near San Diego. During séances there,
a self-proclaimed psychic named Jay Barham would turn off the lights
and pretend to be various spirits so he could have sex with
their widows. One victim said later, "I needed to believe."
Neurotic
or extraverted individuals are most susceptible to
perceived contact. Neurosis can intensify elements of grief, such as
anxiety, whereas extraverts might feel a greater need to connect
because of the emphasis they place on social interaction. Those with
epilepsy also have more contact experiences because hyperexcitability
in the temporal lobes can generate a sense of presence. Scientists
have been able to induce sensed presences by placing magnets over
subjects' temporal lobes, leading some to propose that the Earth's
magnetic fields might be enough to make certain locations feel
haunted.
The fact that people
sense presences most often when experiencing grief suggests that
contact with spirits may be more than a twisted hallucination; it may
be a healthy form of coping.
Matthew Hutson is the
author of The 7 Laws of Magical Thinking,published in April
2012 by Hudson Street Press.
A Penchant for the
Paranormal
What defines people
who believe in anomalous experiences?
Believers are not all
alike, but several factors have been correlated with paranormal
beliefs and experiences in general. One is the trait of
absorption: Those who get lost in fiction and their own fantasies may
treat their imaginations as especially real. Another trait is low
behavioral inhibition: If you're impulsive, you're less prone to
check your initial interpretations of events against reality. And
susceptibility to false memories allows you to twist
experiences to fit a paranormal narrative.
Childhood trauma and
a history of negative life events can also increase belief in the
paranormal. The psychologist Harvey Irwin has suggested that early
experiences with diminished control lead to the need for a sense of
mastery; paranormal belief becomes a way to make sense of anomalous
events. Indeed, the desire for control is a strong predictor of
pattern-finding. Jennifer Whitson and Adam Galinsky showed that when
healthy subjects feel a lack of control, they're more likely to see
images in snowy visual noise, to rely on superstitious rituals, and
to explain coincidences as conspiracies.
Believers are not
necessarily less intelligent than skeptics. Only weak or nonexistent
correlations with education and overall reasoning ability
have been shown.
On the other hand,
"there is a weak but consistent correlation between paranormal
beliefs and various measures of psychological maladjustment, whether
you're looking at a tendency toward depression or mania or
schizotypy," says Chris French, the head of the Anomalistic
Psychology Research Unit at Goldsmiths, University of London. While
some conclude that if you believe in ESP or ghosts you're crazy,
"that's far too naive and simplistic," French says. "There
are situations where having these beliefs can be psychologically
advantageous"—as a form of coping, for example. "It's a
very complex picture."
Paranormal believers
also exhibit many traits one might consider positive (within reason):
They're more intuitive, open to experience, and sensation-seeking.
English psychologist Susan Blackmore, who went from believer to
skeptic, has seen both sides of the spectrum. She says she's the only
person ever to have been on the executive council of both the Society
for Psychical Research and the Committee for Skeptical Inquiry. "I
can tell you," she quips, "that the believers' conferences
have much better parties."
2 comments:
Of course there are those who really do move through the planes of existence and who can see events happening far away and who can do lots of other things. They are not going to reveal these things to the world, such as the one we must endure. They are hidden from acknowledgement, safe from those who would want to use them or burn them at the stake. It has nothing to do with belief, nothing at all.
Nuts to attributing paranormal experiences to psychological and pseudoscientific explanations.
My psychic activity started at age 13 with clairaudience, and I could go through a lifetime of assorted experiences, but I won't bother. This article is bunk.
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