Fact and Fable in Psychology

by Joseph Jastrow

III

Approaching the matter next from a descriptive point of view, it becomes pertinent to inquire what are the actual interests which give vitality to Psychical Research, which support the investigator in his laborious and tedious collection and compilation of cases, which provide the membership for the Society for Psychical Research, and the still wider circle of interested readers, which induce so many correspondents to record long and painstaking accounts of their peculiar "psychical" experiences, which make the discussion of these matters a favorite topic of conversation. That these interests are diverse is obvious; yet they fall naturally into a few groups or types, of which the occult interest is probably the most widespread. This, in its pronounced form, proceeds upon a suppressed or acknowledged conviction that the world which science reveals is but a torso of reality; that its very head—that which gives significance and expression to the whole—may be missing, and can only be restored from isolated fragments, themselves to be found by rare good fortune. The key to the riddle of existence is to be sought in the personal significance of events; in moments of great stress and strain, in critical emergencies when communication between individuals deeply concerned must be established though the heavens fall, it is claimed that the heavens do occasionally fall, that the laws of earth are transcended, and the phantasms of the dying are telepathically wafted to the sentient consciousness of the interested kinsman or friend. Apparitions and presentiments are interpreted as mystic symbols of the order of events, which cast their shadows before or coincidently with them. The intelligence of the departed, likewise, is discerned in these manifestations; and through haunted houses and séance chambers, through the inspired utterances of entranced mediums, messages are revealed that indicate conclusively the impossibility of their transmission through ordinary channels, or, it may be, their unmistakable "spiritual" origin. The supernormal, transcendent, undiscovered world of the occult shines through, though fitfully and visible only to those who have eyes to see, the commonplace, constrained phenomena of earth-bound reality. Variable as may be the formulation and trend of this interest, yet in some form this suspicion or quasi-belief (for which the term "occult" seems appropriate) that there are things undreamt of in our philosophy, that these residual phenomena are profoundly significant and afford a glimpse of the great unknown, as well as of the fallibility and the poverty of scientific conceptions, furnishes a very considerable clientèle of Psychical Research. The why and wherefore of this inclination need not here be discussed; its prevalence is unmistakable. And though it appears now in a crude and superstitious guise, and again in a more refined and critical attitude, and more rarely is unwillingly assumed as the only possible alternative in the face of striking personal and other evidence, yet there is a sufficient community of belief in these several positions to warrant their inclusion in a common though variable type. As applied to Psychical Research, it is important neither to generalize from the worst nor from the best expressions of this occult interest, but to appreciate its range of distribution amid the diversity of temperament and endowment.

As the occult interest recedes to an obscure position in the background, and as the foreground and middle distance come to be suffused with the light of critical discernment and of the scientific spirit of inquiry, the "psychical researcher" approximates to the psychological point of view. This essentially psychological interest is necessarily a strong one in some of the distinctive problems of Psychical Research, and often mingles with other interests to form a curious composite. It may be a morbid, an uninformed, a misguided, a dilettante interest, but its psychological character may be noted without implication of any further comment of approval or disapproval. Favorably interpreted, this psychological interest is an interest in the intrinsic nature and analysis of mental processes,—an interest in tracing the various threads that compose the twisted strands of consciousness, in following the kaleidoscopic transformations wrought by attention and association, in observing the play of habit, the subtle processes of illusion and misinterpretation, the unexpected intrusion of the subconscious, and likewise in the pursuit of these as exemplified in concrete instances; among others, in such alleged phenomena as are commonly described as "mesmeric, psychical, and Spiritualistic."

While this interest may be combined with the occult interest, the two are not really congenial and are in essence antagonistic. We are all rational only in spots; and many a "psychical researcher" pursues some of his investigations under the guidance of a scientifically psychological interest, while in other directions the occult interest takes the helm. The analysis of the contrast between the two may be helpful in realizing more fully the divergences of Psychology and Psychical Research. The "psychical researcher" wishes to prove or to disprove something; with regard to this or that phenomenon he wishes to know "what there is in it," and is accordingly attracted to phenomena which seem to have something mysterious in them. As soon as he succeeds in finding a consistent and commonplace explanation for a group of phenomena, his main curiosity is satisfied, and he takes to pastures new. When once he has shown that theosophic marvels are the result of trickery and collusion, then the physical appearances of Theosophy have been explained. It has been demonstrated that there is "nothing in them," that is, nothing transcendental. The verdict is given, and the court passes on to the next case. But the psychologist's interest in how Mme. Blavatsky performed her astral manifestations was always a very subordinate and incidental one; the logical scientist, whether he happened to be physicist or biologist or psychologist, was quite convinced that Mme. Blavatsky had not discovered the means of carrying ponderables by unseen agencies from "China to Peru" (which, by the way, would, if possible, be a matter for the physicist and not at all for the psychologist to investigate), any more than she had been able to discover the secret of immortality (which would in turn be a biological discovery), or had been able to leave her body in New York, while her "astral" soul inspected what was going on in India (which might indeed be regarded as a psychological feat). The psychological problem of Theosophy, so far as there is one, is of a different type; it takes up the inquiry as to how such marvelous pretensions come to be believed, by what influences conviction is formed and doctrines spread. It contributes an incident or an apt illustration to the psychology of belief, or to the social psychology of contagion. The psychologist is interested in the illustration which such a movement affords of the action of certain mental processes and influences; and his interest persists, whether there is presumably "something in it," or not. The resulting difference in attitude between the psychologist and the "psychical researcher" is indeed fundamental, and even more so in principle than in practical issue.

It is desirable but not easy to find parallel illustrations of this difference in attitude in other than psychological discussions; but perhaps the following may be pertinent. If the widespread interest in the North Pole were merely that in the possibility of its furnishing the key to the mystery of the northward-turning magnet, and were at once to disappear upon the removal of the mystery, such an interest would be quite parallel to that of the "psychic researcher;" but the interest of the true physicist in any physical phenomenon which in the future may be demonstrated to exist at the North Pole would be a persistent one, and one depending for its value on the illustration thus revealed, not of mystery but of recognized physical principles. Furthermore, be it observed that however valuable may be the physical facts obtainable by a polar expedition, there is no overwhelming obligation resting upon every physicist to desert his laboratory and embark for the farthest north; but that such expeditions are decided by considerations of general interest, expediency, and importance. There is no obligation resting upon the physicist any more than upon the psychologist to make large sacrifices for the pursuit of ill-defined residual phenomena, and certainly not for the refutal of far-fetched theories and suggested supernatural notions. Physicist and psychologist alike contribute most to the advancement of their science by an open-minded but systematic pursuit of definite, significant, and logically fashioned problems.

Let it not be inferred from the emphasis placed upon this contrast that Psychical Research is in itself to be condemned or to be regarded as useless. Not at all; only in many aspects it is not psychological, and the psychologist is under no obligation to find an interest in, nor to occupy himself with, this aspect of things, if his general trend does not happen to point that way. The physicist may be called upon with equal propriety to aid in many inquiries which the Society for Psychical Research has undertaken. Among the early records of the Society appears an account of a man who presented himself with an iron ring on his arm, far too small to have been slipped over his hand, and who seemed to imply that possibly the spirits put it there, or that it came on through some supernatural agency. This was regarded as a proper case for the Society for Psychical Research to examine. If it could have been demonstrated that the ring reached its position through the exercise of the will of some living persons or spirits, the phenomenon, I suppose, would in some sense be psychological; if it were demonstrated that it came transported through the fourth dimension of space, it might be termed physical. But in reality it was probably physiological, for there was evidence that it was by the effects of etherization that the hand was contracted and that the ring was forced over it. Surely it is most absurd to designate such an inquiry, however interesting and proper it may be regarded, Psychical Research. It certainly is a highly commendable function for a society to take upon itself the investigation of such claims as theosophy or spiritualism put forward, whenever movements of this type are likely to develop into psychic epidemics or to prove a social menace. Any authoritative body that will exhibit the absurdity of such claims, and expose the true modus operandi of the manifestations, will perform an important civic function. Such a function was performed by the Royal Commission of 1784, in exposing the vain pretensions and the insidious dangers of animal magnetism; Mr. Hodgson's investigations of theosophy, the Seybert Commission's report on spiritualism, are both able and useful contributions of the same type; and, at present, an authoritative statement regarding the theoretical absurdity and the practical dangers of Christian Science might prove efficacious. Such special investigations represent the practical application of science to concrete conditions and problems; they are woefully misnamed, and their significance is likely to be misinterpreted, when they are presented as Psychical Research, and are grouped along with other problems of a totally different nature.

I shall next touch briefly upon other diverse yet allied interests in Psychical Research, which may serve to illustrate further the various avenues of approach to this heterogeneous group of problems. I shall speak of these as the explanatory, the investigative, and the anthropological interests. The first is satisfied with finding out how alleged marvels are really performed; it takes up the physical phenomena of spiritualism or theosophy; it investigates conjuring tricks; it discovers the origin of noises in haunted houses; it ferrets out the means whereby mediums obtain knowledge of their sitters' private affairs. This is proper work for experts in prestidigitation and for detectives,—not for all such, for to be successful, the conjurer and the detective must have special knowledge and fitness for this branch of the trade. While the facts thus gathered may be useful as illustrative material to the psychologist, they form no essential part of his profession; nor is there any special reason why he should be best suited to determine the technical modus operandi of such manifestations. That some psychologists with a strong interest in this type of phenomena might properly coöperate in such an investigation, if they chose, is too obvious to merit remark; but to trace out and expose trickery cannot be imposed upon the burdensome duties of the psychologist.

With a certain type of "psychical researcher" this explanatory interest is the dominant one; and by dispelling error and replacing false notions by true ones he may perform a useful service to the community. The explanatory interest is quite certain to be supplemented by the investigative, and that because the latter soon becomes necessary to the former. While the one is concerned with the explanation and description of the actual marvels accomplished, the other must consider also what is reported and what is believed to have been accomplished. The mechanism of a trick, whether brought forward as evidence of spiritualism or not, when clearly exhibited, explains the trick; a loose board under the roof, or the reflection from a lustrous surface, may at once reveal how mysterious noises and lights were really produced. But one must go farther to account for the recognition of relatives in the form of the medium covered with flimsy drapery, for the automatic spelling out of messages, or for the successes of guessing experiments. These two interests thus proceed hand in hand and furnish valuable material which the psychologist is ready to interpret and to utilize; for the study of how false beliefs spread, of how deception proceeds, teems with points of psychological significance. This, however, is by no means a unique characteristic of Psychical Research; there are also interesting psychological points in such diverse occupations as the actor's profession, in juggling and tricks of skill, in advertising, in religions revivals, etc. It is highly desirable that the materials thus gathered should be psychologically utilized, and it is equally desirable that such material should be collected. Many valuable studies in Psychical Research, which owe their origin not to a truly psychological interest but to this general explanatory and investigative interest, have incidentally brought to light material of great suggestiveness for the psychologist, and material which quite possibly would not otherwise have been discovered. I am more than willing to contribute whatever I can to the maintenance of a Coöperative Psychological Investigation Society which shall stand ready to take up the investigation of any phenomena which promise to yield data of psychological interest; which shall, however, keep far removed from any phase of the transcendental or the occult; which shall not feel itself under any obligation to disprove any improbable or absurd hypothesis which this or that seeker for notoriety may choose to put forward; which shall not be dominated merely by the spirit of finding out whether there is "anything in" one movement or another, but will simply stand ready to supplement the work of the academic laboratories by undertaking, in the same spirit, a special form of investigation, which, under existing circumstances, such laboratories or their individual directors cannot expediently undertake.

The anthropological interest, above referred to, is to my mind a most valid one, and is best represented in Mr. Andrew Lang's volume, "Cock Lane and Common Sense." Mr. Lang there examines the stories of ghosts and apparitions, and clairvoyance, and spiritual knocks and raps, and strange influences, and haunted places, not at all for determining how little or how much these things are true, but how they come to be believed in. How is it that the same tale is told, the same powers credited, the same manifestations produced, in evidence of the supernatural? In savage as well as in ancient magic, in the stories current in former centuries as well as in our own day and generation, there is a pronounced generic similarity. There is certainly as strong an interest in the investigation of the growth and distribution of these beliefs as of the other clusters of belief which anthropology and folk-lore consider. And, moreover, recently acquired knowledge of hypnotic and automatic phenomena, of hyperæsthesia and nervous disease, shed much light on the obscure tales of the past, and assist the comprehension of how such beliefs could have originated. In brief, Mr. Lang outlines the programme for a "Comparative Psychical Research," and tells us that "we follow the stream of fable, as we track a burn to its head, and it leads us into shy and strange scenes of human life, haunted by very fearful wild fowl, and rarely visited, save by the credulous. There may be entertainment here, and, to the student of his species, there may be instruction." Part of the instruction will consist in gaining an increased familiarity with the psychological conditions which produce and foster these narratives and beliefs, and with their social and traditional significance; in concluding, with Mr. Lang, "that the psychological conditions which begat the ancient narratives produce the new legends."