by Joe Nickell
Some skeptics have embraced Michael A. Persinger's studies, which supposedly demonstrate that electromagnetic stimulation of the brain can produce religious or paranormal experiences. Persinger's findings received extensive media attention, including television coverage by the BBC, CNN, and the Discovery Channel, in addition to numerous citations in print, especially in popular-science magazines. Recent experimental results, however, cast doubt on Persinger's claims.
Persinger—a professor of psychology and biology at Laurentian University in Sudbury, Ontario, Canada—has claimed that a majority of test subjects (up to 80 percent) sense an unexplained presence when their temporal lobes are targeted by weak magnetic fields. Skeptics have been tempted to argue from Persinger's work that certain paranormal experiences may merely be due to brain stimulation. Supposedly, sightings of ghosts, angels, and aliens, as well as out-of-body experiences, might all be caused by exposure to electromagnetic fields (as from electronic equipment or power lines) or Earth's geomagnetic fields (Roll and Persinger 2001; Shermer 1999; Granqvist et al. 2004).
Others (myself included) were troubled by some of Persinger's writings, such as “Investigations of Poltergeists and Haunts: A Review and Interpretation,” coauthored with parapsychologist William G. Roll (Roll and Persinger 2001). This work suggests, for instance, that some poltergeist (“noisy spirit”) disturbances that skeptical investigators have attributed to human tricks or other mundane causes (Christopher 1970, 142–63; Randi 1985; Randi 1995, 52–53, 186; Baker and Nickell 1992, 135–39; Nickell 2001) may instead be due to “a psychoenergetic force.” The two collaborators opine that, possibly, “electromagnetic components of mental states can interact with electromagnetic energy in the environment to produce the events” (Roll and Persinger 2001, 152).
In late 2004, however, a joint study by scientists from two Swedish universities called into question much of Persinger's research. The scientists attempted to replicate Persinger's findings using the identical magnetic-field apparatus. Their experiments involved eighty-nine students in psychology and theology.
The researchers found no evidence that paranormal or religious experiences were caused by the electromagnetic stimulation. However, there were such reported experiences in both the test and control group subjects who were highly suggestible (as determined by use of a special questionnaire). The researchers concluded that “suggestibility might well account for the previously reported effects” (Granqvist et al. 2004). To explain the discrepancies between their results and those of Persinger and his coworkers, the Swedish scientists noted that the previous studies were not clearly double blinded. (To avoid influencing the results, neither the test subjects nor experimenters should know who was exposed to the weak magnetic fields and who was not.)
Persinger countered that some of his studies were effectively double blinded and that the Swedish researchers did not expose their test subjects to magnetic fields for a sufficiently long time (Khamsi 2004). That seems an odd claim, since the scientists sought specific instruction from Persinger and his coworker, Stanley Koren, with regard to optimal replication (Granqvist et al. 2004, 5).
Clearly, the claim that application of magnetic fields can prompt certain mystical experiences has been seriously challenged. On the other hand, the Swedish results further demonstrate the powerful role suggestibility plays in such experiences. As the researchers commented, regarding commercially available devices that produce weak complex fields (devices that, while having a different design, function on the same principles as the one used in the various studies), “Insofar as prospective purchasers of such equipment are high on suggestibility, placing the helmet or their heads in a sensory deprivation context might have the anticipated effects, whether or not the cord is plugged in” (Granqvist et al. 2004).
Ghost hunting—as shown by such popular TV shows as Ghost Hunters and Paranormal State—may seem an engaging activity. But it often has another side—sometimes comic, frequently controversial, on rare occasions even tragic. Here are examples from my investigative files.
THERMAL-IMAGE “GHOSTS”
During the weekend of January 7–9, 2011, amateur “ghost hunters” were invited to “investigate” so-called paranormal activity in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, at the Crescent Hotel and Spa (built in 1886). The property has become a sensation since the stars of SyFy's Ghost Hunters, Jason Hawes and Grant Wilson, using a thermal-imaging camera at the Crescent, photographed a shadowy “apparition” in front of a locker door.
At first the ghost hunters believed the image was merely a thermal reflection of Grant—that is, the result of his body heat reflecting off the locker door. However, when the duo were supposedly unable to re-create the effect, they gushed about having obtained “the holy grail of ghost hunting.” But not so fast.
A technical analysis makes a convincing case that the image was indeed “a thermal reflection of Grant.” The figure's “hat,” which Jason imagines he sees, is apparently only an effect of Grant's shock of hair. The analyst concluded that the duo's two re-creation attempts involved—among other problems—Grant putting his hand into the shot each time, which altered the temperature scale. (See “Crescent Hotel Analysis” 2011.) Thus, the ghost hunters’ effort to reproduce the effect was apparently as inept as their creation of it in the first place.
There is, of course, no scientific proof that ghosts exist, despite the pseudoscientific efforts of ghost-hunting amateurs (Grant and Jason actually work as Roto-Rooter plumbers). Their glitch-prone equipment was not manufactured for, nor is it effective for, ghost detection—neither their electromagnetic field meters nor their portable Geiger counters nor their thermal-imaging cameras. (See my “Scientific Investigations vs. Ghost Hunters,” chapter 35.)
In fact, in 2010 a TV crew and I filmed a series of ghost-hunting techniques, showing how “unexplained” phenomena are often caused—not necessarily intentionally—by ghost hunters themselves. Shown here is our thermal photo of a wall where—just before—a crewmember had stood (figure 40.1).
CHIP COFFEY AND PARANORMAL STATE
In 2011 the Miami Herald contacted me for a feature on Chip Coffey, who claims to communicate with the dead. I shared with reporter Serena Dai (2011) my insights as to how such alleged psychic mediums give the impression they know the unknown, which she included in her article, “Chip Coffey: Sixth Sense, Showbiz, or Both?” As it happens, Coffey—who appeared regularly in A&E's Psychic Kids (a program I regard as shamefully exploitive) and Paranormal State—has been accused of outright deception involving the latter show.
In an online posting, “Paranormal State—Caught Faking Entire Show,” Chip Coffey, host Ryan Buell, and other staffers are accused of hoaxing an episode of the popular ghost-hunting show (Ryan 2008). At issue is season two's eighth episode, “The Messenger,” which allegedly featured a headless apparition. The accuser—Kelli Ryan (2008), whose home in Gold Beach, Oregon, was the “investigated” site—claims that Coffey had been in town for “48 hours prior to his ‘first arrival’ on the scene.” She says, “Chip Coffey only playacted at being psychic. He was given every bit of information regarding our case and the identity of the ghost of the past-previous owner of our home….” Ryan (herself an alleged psychic medium) also asserts that glimpses of ghostly figures were staged by crew members, that a “cold spot” showing on a monitor was simulated with a chilled beer, and that instances of alleged electronic voice phenomena (EVPs) were actually picked up from local ham radio transmissions (Ryan 2008; “Paranormal State” 2011).
As an outcome, Chip Coffey (2008) branded Kelli Ryan's assertions as “Fraught with total outright lies,” while Paranormal State's producers issued a revised DVD of Paranormal State's second season, minus “The Messenger” (“Paranormal State” 2011).
“GHOST TRAIN” DEATH
In the early hours of Friday, August 27, 2010, about a dozen amateur ghost hunters were standing on a railway trestle in Iredell County, North Carolina, waiting for a legendary “ghost train”
to manifest itself. Suddenly a real train, from the Norfolk Southern Railroad, rounded a bend and surprised the group. Everyone fled to the trestle's eastern end, but twenty-nine-year-old Christopher Kaiser didn't make it. His body was later found in a steep ravine below the trestle (Lytle 2010). A woman in the group was also seriously injured. Reportedly, Kaiser's last act was pushing her to safety.
The tragic irony is that the so-called ghost train appears to be nothing more than the interplay of imagination and folklore. Like many other phantom-train tales, this one originated after a disaster. The disaster occurred at the site, Bostian Bridge, on August 27, 1891, when a passenger train derailed and fell some nine stories into the ravine, killing almost thirty people and injuring some two dozen more. Ever since, at 3:00 a.m. (though different times are given) on the anniversary of the tragedy, one “is said to be” able to hear the sounds of metal twisting and breaking, steam pipes bursting, and passengers screaming at the site. The apparition of a killed baggage master is also reported.
The Bostian Bridge narrative contains a number of common folk motifs, or story elements (indicated below by their standard folk-motif numbers):
Ghost haunts place of great accident or misfortune (E275);
Phantom railway train (E535.4);
Sounds of accident reenact tragedy (E337.1.2); and
Persons who die violent or accidental deaths cannot rest in grave (E411.10).
(See Thompson 1955, vol. 2)
As I learned while doing graduate studies in folklore, such stock motifs suggest that the story was influenced by the general climate in which ghost stories are told with spine-tingling relish. In this environment, story elements have been known to migrate from tale to tale and place to place.
Most ghost-train tales date back to a time before the advent of modern safety practices and devices. The stories are told and retold (hence the designation folktales), often becoming embellished in the process. For example, an unverified incident attributed to an anonymous group of curiosity seekers that walked near the bridge on the wreck's first anniversary, allegedly involved the baggage master, Hugh K. Linster, who had been killed in the train wreck. He was said to have asked for the time and then to have vanished. Now this action is reported as having happened repeatedly: “Sometimes the ghost of baggage master H. K. Linster appears and asks for the correct time, so he can set his gold watch” (Hauck 1996, 319).
A ghost train, of course, contradicts the common definition of a ghost as the spirit of a dead person. Modern ghost hunters postulate that the entity exists as a form of life “energy” (which, however, science cannot find; indeed, once the brain is dead, there would be a cessation of mental activity and motor function). Be that as it may, how is it that inanimate things—like clothing, walking sticks, or other objects that accompany people in their alleged apparitional forms, and even means of conveyance like trains and stagecoaches—can become ghostly? The answer is that all such forms appear in apparitional encounters just as they do in dreams, memories, and imaginings, because all are purely mental images. Indeed, sightings of ghosts are linked to dreams, reveries, and other altered states of consciousness. (See appendix for “apparitional experience.”)
This is the story of how a respectable university press—the University Press of Kentucky (UPKY), “scholarly publisher for the Commonwealth”—came to contradict its legacy of science and scholarship. It is also the story of how I, one of its most-published authors—attempting to raise a question of ethics in the interest of the press, the state's universities, science, and the public—was treated in the process.
“FOLK”-LURE
At issue is a ridiculous book on ghosts—another mystery-mongering, proparanormal collection that is based on a logical fallacy known as argumentum ad ignorantiam (“argument from ignorance,” i.e., a lack of knowledge). The notion is that if you “can't explain” something (say a noise in an old house), it must therefore be paranormal (surely a ghost). Although that illogic permeates Spookiest Stories Ever: Four Seasons of Kentucky Ghosts, beginning with the very first sentence of the very first story, there are other problems with the book.
Take the title: Please! I've read spooky stories, and these don't compare. For my money, Ruth Ann Musick's Coffin Hollow and Other Ghost Tales (1977), published by the same press, is much spookier. Besides, Musick's book offers a bibliography and source notes, whereas Roberta Simpson Brown and Lonnie E. Brown—the authors of Spookiest Stories Ever—rather embarrassingly confess, “We were not collectors when we heard many of these stories, so we did not record the storyteller's name or the time and place of the stories” (Simpson Brown and Brown 2010, xvi).
They add, “Some of these stories are based on our own experiences.” This is interesting, because the book's jacket copy suggests a work of traditional folklore, stating that Spookiest Stories Ever “transports readers into the past with chilling tales that have been passed down from generation to generation.” So not only do the authors not know many of their stories’ antecedents, but by relating their “own experiences”—and those of family, friends, and acquaintances, which actually make up over half of the book—they reveal that theirs is not, substantially, a work of classic folklore. (In contrast, Musick's book is a collection of folktales with folk motifs, keyed to standard motif-indexes of folklore that are helpfully identified.)
In fact, as a press release for the book observes, “the authors explore paranormal phenomena and investigate some of the most haunted places in the world” (University Press of Kentucky 2010). So this is basically a ghost hunter's book—one promoting belief in spirits of the dead through allegedly empirical means: personal experiences, presumably by psychically sensitive persons, and/or the use of cameras and other equipment that supposedly record spirit “energy.”
GHOST HUNTING
The authors of Spookiest Stories Ever are in fact self-styled conductors of “paranormal investigations with the Louisville Ghost Hunters and the American Ghost Society” (Simpson Brown 2009)—groups whose approach is widely viewed as fundamentally pseudoscientific. Here and there throughout the book, ghost hunters make forays into “haunted” places where alleged spirit pictures (Simpson Brown and Brown 2010, 146), camera malfunctions (133), and the like are reported, along with various alleged psychical encounters (e.g., 146, 149, 153, 156). (For a discussion of ghost hunters, see Nickell 2006.)
Coauthor Roberta Simpson Brown repeatedly reports her own psychic experiences. Since the age of seven (Simpson Brown and Brown 2010, 5), she has witnessed apparitions (150, 157–58, 215–16), had prophetic dreams (127), experienced “visitations” (32, 33), communicated with spirits (32, 33, 60, 244), encountered “signs” (239–45), sensed a presence (38, 61, 75, 143), felt paranormal cold spots (62, 147), and so on. Some of these paranormal experiences have come from her “ghost-hunting activities” (149). In fact, Simpson Brown—who has an “interest in the supernatural” (29)—exhibits several traits associated with a fantasy-prone personality (see Wilson and Barber 1983): she is highly imaginative, has vivid dreams, receives messages from otherworldly entities, and has “psychic” experiences, among other traits. Some of Roberta Simpson Brown's experiences seem consistent with common “waking dreams” that occur in the interface between being fully asleep and awake (Nickell 2004, 228–40). If she is aware of this phenomenon, she never says so.
When I first heard about the Browns’ proposed book and raised the alarm, I was assured by a University Press of Kentucky editor that the collection was just “ghost stories” such as would be told around a campfire and that the press was not presenting them “as true”—certainly not as actual evidence for the supernatural. But they ended up doing just that. The book's jacket copy promises “a wealth of real-life experiences with the supernatural.” The foreword refers to “moments when extraordinary events have suggested the presence of the supernatural,” and it also touts a book by another press that “introduces the reader to forty-four ghost-hunting groups that have generated interesti
ng stories” (Tucker 2010, xi).
“TRUE” VS. THE TRUTH
When Simpson Brown and Brown (2010) gush that a story “is incredible, but true” (28), we are apparently supposed to understand this statement as, “Well, not true true.” The authors disclaim: “If you are looking for scientific proof that ghosts exist, or even an exact definition of what they are, you will not find the answers in this book. This is a collection of true personal experiences and stories we heard as true. We will not attempt to convert you to our way of thinking” (4–5). Oh, really? Much of the book is just such an attempt, a litany of alleged firsthand testimonials that invite the very kind of reaction that one credulous reader had: noting that the book's narratives “are offered as ‘true stories,’” he added, “While it's easy to raise a jaundiced eyebrow at this notion, the cumulative effect of these plain-spoken tales inspires belief rather than skepticism” (Patterson 2010).
So the disingenuity in the book—and in its publishing campaign—is immense, with “true” being treated the way “real” is used on a carnival side show banner (meaning a real fake, as opposed to an imaginary one). Yes, the stories in Spookiest Stories Ever are “true”—in that they are not presented as fiction.
The real truth is that the stories are convincing only to those who are unaware of just how little validity such anecdotal accounts have and of the fallacy of arguing from ignorance. Actually, many of the book's reported incidents are unexplained merely because the evidence they offer is somewhere between nonexistent and doubtful. They are not at all unexplainable. Such phenomena are quite easily explained as waking dreams, misperceptions, alternative natural phenomena, electronic glitches, pranks by others, and so on (Nickell 2001; 2004; 2006; 2007). One suspects many of the Browns’ reports are confabulated at best and partially or completely fictionalized at worst. Not a single ghost has ever been validated by mainstream science, and pseudoscientific ghost hunters are on a fool's errand, unaware that when the brain is dead, brain function ceases—and with it, thought, speech, and motor function.
