by Joe Nickell
In 1904, a German horse named Clever Hans provoked an investigation into his wonderful abilities. “Learned professors were convinced,” wrote Milbourne Christopher (1970,46), “that Hans could work out his own solutions to mathematical problems and had a better knowledge of world affairs than most fourteen-year-old children.” However, psychologist Oskar Pfungst soon determined that questioners—including Hans’s trainer—were providing unintentional cueing. Pfungst discovered that Hans began stamping when the questioner leaned forward to observe the horse’s hoof and stopped only when that person relaxed after the correct number was given. Pfungst even played the role of Hans by rapping with his hand while friends posed questions. Of 25 questioners, all but 2 gave the beginning and ending cues without being aware of doing so (Christopher 1970; Sebeok 1986).
Of course, trainers could deliberately cue their animals and practice other deceptions, such as secretly gleaning information that the animal would then reveal “psychically.” In 1929, the man who later coined the term ESP, Dr. J. B. Rhine, was taken in by a supposedly telepathic horse named Lady Wonder. Rhine believed that Lady actually had psychic power, and he set up a tent near her Virginia barn so that he could scientifically study her apparent abilities. Lady was trained to operate a contraption—somewhat like an enlarged typewriter—consisting of an arrangement of levers that activated alphabet cards. Lady would sway her head over the levers, then nudge one at a time with her nose to spell out answers to queries (Christopher 1970; Jay 1986).
Magician Milbourne Christopher (1970) had an opportunity to assess Lady’s talents on a visit in 1956. As a test, Christopher gave Lady’s trainer, Mrs. Claudia Fonda, a false name, “John Banks.” (The real Banks had exhibited the “talking” horse, Morocco, mentioned earlier.) When Christopher subsequently inquired of Lady, “What is my name?,” the mare obligingly nudged the levers to spell out B-A-N-K-S.
Another test involved writing down numbers which Lady then divined. When he was given a narrow pad and a long pencil, Christopher suspected that Mrs. Fonda might be using a professional mentalists’ technique known as pencil reading, which involves subtly observing the movements of the pencil to learn what is being written. Therefore, he pretended to write a bold “9”—but while going through the motions, he only touched the paper on the downstroke, producing a “1.” Although he concentrated on the latter number, Lady indicated that the answer was 9.
In short, as the noted magician and paranormal investigator observed, Mrs. Fonda gave a “slight movement” of her training rod whenever Lady’s head was at the correct letter. That was enough to cue the swaying mare to stop and nudge that lever. Thus, Lady was revealed to be a well-trained animal, not a telepathic one (Christopher 1970, 39-54; Nickell 1989, 9-12). No doubt the same was true of her predecessors, whose exhibitors were often performing magicians.
In one case a “talking” animal was allegedly just that: a mongoose that spoke in complete sentences. Gef, as he was called, spoke not only English but also many foreign phrases. He appeared in 1931 on the Irving farm on the Isle of Man (in the Irish Sea), but was never reliably seen. Instead, he tossed stones at unwelcome visitors, and “urinated” through cracks in walls. Although he was partial to the family’s 12-year-old daughter, Viorrey, and allegedly lived in her room, he sometimes mischievously locked her inside with a lock that reportedly could only be accessed from outside the room. Psychic investigators supposed that Gef was a poltergeist or perhaps a ghost.
Not surprisingly, there were skeptics, including many fellow residents on the Isle of Man, who believed that Viorrey was playing pranks. They accused her of using ventriloquism and other tricks, the effects of which were hyped by family members, reporters in search of a story, and credulous paranormalists. In fact, a reporter for the Isle of Man Examiner once caught Viorrey making a squeaking noise, although her father insisted that the sound had come from elsewhere in the room (Psychic Pets 1996, 72-83). In part the case recalls the celebrated magician/ventriloquist Signor Antonio Blitz, who enjoyed strolling through a village and engaging in conversation with horses tied at hitching posts. Reportedly, he also “once discussed the state of the weather with a dead mackerel in a fish market and almost created a panic” (Christopher 1970, 49).
Psychic Pets
Trickery aside, what about reports of apparent animal ESP? Anecdotal evidence suggests that some animals may have precognitive awareness of various types of natural catastrophes, becoming agitated before earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, cyclones, and other events. However, the creatures may actually be responding to subtle sensory factors—such as variations in air pressure and tremors in the ground—that are beyond the range of human perception (Guiley 1991, 22-25).
Something of the sort may explain some instances of apparent animal prescience. For example, a Kentucky friend of mine insists that his dogs seem to know when he has decided to go hunting, exhibiting marked excitement even though they are lodged some distance away from the house. However, it seems possible that they are either responding to some unintended signal (such as recognizing certain noises associated with his getting ready for a hunting trip) or that he is selectively remembering those occasions when the dogs’ excitement happens to coincide with his intentions. Another friend says he once had dogs who seemed to know when he was going to take them for a walk, but he later realized that he must have unconsciously signaled them (such as by glancing in the direction of their hanging leashes).
There is also considerable anecdotal evidence of animals supposedly knowing when their masters were about to suffer harm or were being harmed (Guiley 1991). The operable word here is anecdotal: such tales are notoriously untrustworthy. For example, they may be subject to selective recall, so that after a death, say, the deceased’s dog is recalled to have “acted strangely” sometime before; other instances of the animals’ odd behavior, that did not coincide with the event, are conveniently forgotten. Other problems with anecdotal evidence include the narrator’s ego and bias, memory distortion, and other factors.
Scientific tests of animal “psi” (a parapsychological term applied to ESP and psychokinesis) remain controversial (Ostrander and Schroeder 1971,134-45; Guiley 1991). Rigorous experimental protocols designed to exclude normal explanations (such as sensory cueing) tend not to show evidence for psi. An example is the report on animals’ powers of detection by Wiseman, Smith, and Milton, published in the British Journal of Psychology in 1998.
The researchers responded to a suggestion by Rupert Sheldrake that just such a study be undertaken. It followed a formal test of the alleged phenomenon by an Austrian television company, which test focused on an English woman and her dog and seemed successful. Wiseman et al. (1998) conducted four experiments designed to rule out the pet’s responding to routine or picking up sensory cues (either from the returning owner or from others aware of the expected time of return), as well as people’s selective memories, selective matching, and other possible normal explanations.
In all four experiments, the dog failed to detect accurately when her owner set off for home, thus contradicting claims made on the basis of the previous Austrian television study. The experiments suggested “that selective memory, multiple guesses and selective matching could often have sufficient scope to give an owner the impression of a paranormal effect.”
Pet Psychics
People who are both devoted to their pets and credulous about the paranormal may easily fall prey to unsubstantiated claims made by pet psychics. Some profess to treat animals’ emotional problems, for example, after supposedly communicating with them by ESP or other paranormal means, such as astrology or assistance from the seer’s “spirit guides” (MacDougall 1983, 532; Cooper and Noble 1996, 97-113).
After studying pet psychics at work—including Gerri Leigh (with whom I appeared on Springer) and Sonya Fitzpatrick (star of Animal Planet’s The Pet Psychic)—I find that they impress audiences with some very simple ploys. Consciously or not, they are essentially using the same fortunet
ellers’ technique of cold reading that is used with human subjects. This is an artful method of gleaning information from someone while giving the impression that it has been obtained mystically (Hyman 1977). After all, it is the pet owners, not the pets themselves, who “validate” the pronouncements. Here is a look at some of the common cold-reading techniques used by pet psychics.
Noting the obvious. Fitzpatrick (2002) visits an animal clinic with a couple and their infant daughter to tell them which dog is right for their family. After the selection is narrowed to three choices, each is brought out in turn. The first is ambivalent; the second ignores everyone; and the third, Patty, greets the couple and nuzzles the child. Sonya writes her choice on a slip of paper and it proves to be the same the couple made: Patty. The audience applauds; Patty was apparently their choice too! (I know she was mine!)
Making safe statements. Fitzpatrick (2002) announces that one pooch “says” he wants to go out more often, and the dog’s owners accept the assertion. Similarly, Gerri Leigh (1992) tells the owner of an outgoing little dog, which immediately licks Leigh’s hand, that the animal “fears no one”—but then she quickly adds that it is “not an unconditional lover.” She continues by stating that the pet is “independent” and “not a yes dog.” Such virtually universal declarations are not apt to be challenged.
Asking questions. Psychics frequently seem to be providing information when in fact they are fishing for it. The asking of a question may, if it is correct, allow the reader to be credited with a hit; otherwise it will seem an innocent query. For instance, Fitzpatrick (2002) asks a dog owner, “When was there someone who was with him who went away?” (Unfortunately, this is too good a hit, since the young woman seems puzzled and replies that it could have been various persons—possibly, one imagines, former boyfriends or other acquaintances.) Questioning also keeps the reader from proceeding too far down a wrong path and allows for mid-course corrections.
Offering vague statements that most people can apply specifically to themselves. Alleged psychics take advantage of what is known as “the Barnum effect”—named after showman P. T. Barnum who strove to provide something for everyone (French et al. 1991). They learn that people will respond to a vague, generalized statement by trying to fit it to their own situations. Thus Fitzpatrick (2002) tells the owner of a pet iguana that the creature had experienced “a move.” Now, most people can associate a “move” with their pet: when they acquired it, when they changed residences, when they left it with someone to go on vacation, and so on. Thus the pet psychic was credited with a hit (never mind that she incorrectly referred to the female iguana as “he”).
Returning messages to animals. People who are convinced that pets give information to psychics may be willing to believe the reverse. Thus Fitzpatrick (2002) claims to give animals “messages”—for example, a clarification of something by the owner—by silently concentrating for a moment.
These and other techniques help convince the credulous that pet psychics have telepathic or clairvoyant or other powers. Some, like New York psychic Christa Carl, even claim to use these powers to help locate lost pets. Carl gained notoriety “for being called in to find Tabitha, the cat who disappeared on a Tower Air flight.” Actually, my interpretation of the case is that Carl did not find the cat, but that the cat found Carl— or rather, found her owner. Tabitha was known to be hiding on the airplane; after 12 days and 30,000 miles of flight that engendered a large amount of negative publicity and a threatened lawsuit, the airline grounded the plane so the animal could be retrieved. The cat eventually came out to her owner—and to Carl, who claimed the credit for supposedly helping the animal resolve a problem with “one of her past lives” and “showing her how to come out” of the plane’s drop ceiling (Cooper and Noble 1996).
To find other lost animals, Carl claims that she uses “visualization” to help them “find their way home.” Thus, if an animal returns, Carl can claim credit. If not, she has a ready rationalization: Some animals do not wish to come back and, says Carl, “I have to respect the animal’s wishes” (Cooper and Noble 1996).
Some pet psychics offer still other services. For example, Oklahoma “equine parapsychologist” Karen Hamel-Noble claims to heal horses. She uses her hands to detect “the source of weakness in their energy fields”—that is, their imagined auras—and then supplies compensating “energy” from herself (Cooper and Noble 1996). However, auras remain scientifically unproven, and tests of psychics’ abilities to see them have repeatedly failed (Nickell 2000); Hamel-Noble’s claims require proof, not just her statements of feelings and other assertions. Perhaps the animals’ perceived recoveries from illnesses are merely response to their natural healing mechanisms and the medical treatments Hamel-Noble provides them—including penicillin injections (Cooper and Noble 1996).
Pet Mediums
In the popular imagination, animals, like their human counterparts, may continue their existence after death. There are many reports of animal apparitions. Because pets are loved and often regarded as members of a family, it is not surprising that people occasionally experience “visitations” from their departed animal friends just as they do from their human ones. However, these seem to have explanations similar to those of other apparitional experiences. For example, some who hear a dog’s phantom bark or footsteps, or see (as one reported) “a shadow jump up on the bed,” may do so just after rousing from sleep (Cohen 1984, 137-49) and may thus be having waking dreams. These common hallucinations occur in the twilight between being awake and asleep and exhibit content that “may be related to the dreamer’s current concerns” (Baker 1990, 179-82). Similarly, apparitions that are seen during wakefulness tend to occur when the perceiver is tired, daydreaming (perhaps while performing routine work), or in a similar state or situation (Nickell 2001a, 291-92).
With the advent of spiritualism—the belief that the dead can be contacted—certain self-styled “mediums” began to offer themselves as intermediaries with the spirit realm. Some produced bogus spirit “materializations” and other physical phenomena, but these were frequently exposed as tricks by investigators such as magician Harry Houdini. Today’s mediums tend to limit themselves to purely “mental phenomena,” that is, the use of “psychic ability” to obtain messages from “the other side.”
Today’s mediums—including James Van Praagh, John Edward, Rosemary Altea, George Anderson, and Sylvia Browne—appear to rely largely on the old psychics’ standby, cold reading. In fact, Edward (whose real name is John MaGee, Jr.) came to mediumship after a stint as an erstwhile fortuneteller at psychic fairs; now, however, he styles himself a “psychic medium.” On Dateline NBC, he was caught cheating, attempting to pass off some previously gained knowledge as spirit revelation (Nickell 2001b).
Mediums like Edward and Van Praagh occasionally mention a pet—usually a dog—in a reading. Given the Barnum effect (discussed earlier), this usually gets a hit. For instance, on the television show Larry King Live (26 February1999), Van Praagh told a caller: “I’m also picking up something on a dog. So I don’t know why, but I’m picking up a dog around you.” Note the vagueness of the reference: there is not even an indication of whether the animal is dead or alive or what link it might have to the person. But the caller offers the validation, “Oh, my dog died two years ago.”
Some pet psychics, like Christa Carl, conduct “seance readings” for animals who have “passed over.” When asked to give an example of such a seance, she replied (in Cooper and Noble 1996, 102):
Brandy, a dog, had been placed in a kennel by her owner when she got married. She broke away from the kennel and got killed.
Her owner called me and told me she was having a hard time and wanted to communicate with Brandy. When I did the reading with Brandy, I learned from her that she didn’t know why she had been put in the kennel. She had felt abandoned, unloved, uncared for.
Her owner should have told her ahead of time why she needed to put her in a kennel. I explained it to Brandy, a
nd now she’s at peace.
Of course, there is not the slightest bit of evidence that the spirit was contacted or that, in fact, it existed anywhere other than in the imaginations of Christa Carl and, of course, the dog’s grieving, guilt-ridden, and credulous owner.
This pinpoints the inevitable problem with claims involving psychic pets and pet psychics. They are based on anecdotal evidence— wonderful tales of psychic and mediumistic success—but are not supported by scientific investigation.
REFERENCES
Baker, Robert A. 1990. They Call It Hypnosis. Buffalo, N.Y.: Prometheus Books.
Christopher, Milbourne. 1962. Panorama of Magic. New York: Dover.
————. 1970. ESP, Seers & Psychics. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell.
Cohen, Daniel. 1984. The Encyclopedia of Ghosts. New York: Dorset Press.
Cooper, Paulette, and Paul Noble. 1996. 100 Top Psychics in America. New York: Pocket Books.
Fitzpatrick, Sonya. 2002. “The pet psychic.” Animal Planet television series, aired 7 March.
French, Christopher C, et al. 1991. Belief in astrology: A test of the Barnum effect. Skeptical Inquirer 15, no. 2 (Winter): 166-72.
Guiley, Rosemary Ellen. 1991. Harper’s Encyclopedia of Mystical & Paranormal Experience. New York: HarperCollins.
Hyman, Ray. 1977. Cold reading: How to convince strangers that you know all about them. Skeptical Inquirer 1, no. 2 (Spring/Summer): 18-37.
Jay, Ricky. 1986. Learned Pigs & Fireproof Women. London: Robert Hale.
Leigh, Gerri. 1992. Interview/appearance on The Jerry Springer Show, 16 March.
MacDougall, Curtis D. 1983. Superstition and the Press. Buffalo, N.Y.: Prometheus Books.
Nickell, Joe. 1989. The Magic Detectives. Buffalo, N.Y.: Prometheus Books.
————. 2000. Aura photography: A candid shot. Skeptical Inquirer 24, no. 3 (May/June): 15-17.
