Fact and Fable in Psychology

by Joseph Jastrow

III

As we turn from the objective to the subjective conditions of deception, we enter the true domain of psychology; for the most scientific deceiver is he who employs least external aids, and counts most upon his power of captivating the intellect. Just as we interpret appearances by the forms they most commonly assume, so it is our average normal selves that interpret them. A variation in our sense-organs or in our judging powers will lead to illusion. The effects of contrast may serve as apt illustrations. When passing from a dark to a light room the light seems glaringly bright; a hand immersed in hot water and then in lukewarm water will feel the latter as cold; when accustomed to the silence of the country the bustle of the city seems unusually noisy. Fatigue produces similar results. Fatigue the eye for red, and it sees white light as green; the last mile of a long walk seems the longest; the last hour of a long wait, the most tedious. So long as we recognize our unusual condition and allow for its effects, we are not deceived; but under the influence of emotion this power is readily lost, as it may be permanently lost in the insane. The delusions of the insane are often influenced by misinterpretations of real but abnormal sensations under the guidance of a dominant idea. On the basis of an anæsthetic skin a patient may come to believe that he is made of glass or stone; subjective noises in the ear, due to disturbances of the circulation, are transformed into the jeers and taunts of an invisible persecutor. But for the present we will assume that the judging powers do not vary beyond their normal limits.

In every perception two factors contribute to the result. The one is the nature of the object perceived, the other that of the percipient. The effect of the first factor is obvious and well recognized; the importance of the second factor is more apt to be overlooked. The sunset is a different experience to the artist from what it is to the farmer; a piece of rocky scenery is viewed with quite a different interest by the artist and the geologist. The things that were attractive in childhood have lost their charm; and what was then, if noticed at all, considered stupid, has become a cherished hobby. Even from day to day, our interests change with our moods, and our views of things brighten with the weather or the good behavior of our digestive organs. Not only will the nature of the impression change with the interests of the observer, but even more, whether or not an object will be perceived at all, will depend upon the same cause. The naturalist sees what the stroller entirely overlooks; the sailor detects a ship in the distant horizon where the landsman sees nothing; and this is not because the naturalist and the sailor have keener vision, but because they know what to look for. Whenever an impression is vague, or an observation made under poor conditions, this subjective element comes to the front. Darkness, fear, any strong emotion, any difficulty in perception reveal the same influence. "La nuit tous les chats sont gris." Expectation, or expectant attention, is doubtless the most influential of all such factors. When awaiting a friend, any indistinct noise is readily converted into the rumbling of carriage-wheels; the mother hears in every sound the cry of her sick child. After viewing an object through a magnifying-glass, we detect details with the naked eye which escaped our vision before. In spite of the fact that the answer in the book happens to be wrong, a considerable proportion of the class succeeds in reaching it. Everywhere we are apt to perceive what we expect to perceive, in the perception of which we have an interest. The process that we term "sensation," the gathering of evidence by the senses, is dual in character, and depends upon the eyes that see as well as upon the things that are present to be seen.

Accordingly, the conjurer succeeds in his deception by creating an interest in some unimportant detail, while he is performing the real trick before our eyes without our noticing it. He looks intently at his extended right hand, involuntarily carrying our eyes to the same spot while he is doing the trick with the unobserved left hand. The conjurer's wand is extremely serviceable in directing the spectator's attention to the place where the performer desires to have it.[5] A call upon the attention in one direction prevents its dispersion in another. When engrossed in work, we are oblivious to the noise of the street or even to the knock at the door. An absent-minded person is one so entirely "present-minded" to one train of thought that other stimuli go unperceived. The pickpocket is psychologist enough to know that at the railway station, the theatre, or wherever one's attention is sharply focused in one direction, is he apt to find the psychological moment for the exercise of his pursuit. It is in the negative field of attention that deception effects its purpose. Houdin, the first of the famous prestidigitateurs (died 1871), gives it as one of his rules never to announce beforehand the nature of the effect which you intend to produce, in order that the spectator may not know where to fix his attention. He also tells us that whenever you count "one, two, three," as preliminary to the disappearance of an object, the real vanishing must take place before you say "three,"—for the audience have their attention fixed upon "three," and whatever is done at "one" or "two" entirely escapes their notice. The "patter" or setting of a trick often constitutes the real art of its execution, because it directs or rather misdirects the attention. When performing before the Arabs, Houdin produced an astounding effect by a very simple trick. Under ordinary circumstances the trick was announced as the changing of the weight of a chest, making it heavy or light at will. The mechanism was simply the attachment and disconnection of an electro-magnet, in those days a far less familiar affair than now. To impress the Arabs he announced that he could spirit a man's strength away and restore it again at a moment's notice. The trick succeeded as usual, but was changed from a mere trick to sorcery—the Arabs declaring him in league with the devil.

The trick, above cited, of supporting a child in mid-air, was performed by Houdin at the time when the inhalations of ether for purposes of insensibility were first introduced. This idea was in the minds of the audience, and magical effects were readily attributed to etherization. Accordingly the trick was announced as "suspension in equilibrium by atmospheric air through the action of concentrated ether," and so successfully was this aspect of the trick accepted that protests were sent in against "the unnatural father who sacrificed the health of his poor child to the pleasures of the public." In the same way, Kellar introduces a "thought-reading" performance, by going through the movements of hypnotizing the lady who assists in the trick; this enables him to present the phenomenon in a mysterious light, and incidentally his manipulations furnish the opportunity to connect the end of a speaking-tube concealed in the lady's hair with another portion attached to the chair. In brief, the effect of a trick depends more upon the receptive attitude of the spectators than upon what is really done. "Conjuring," Mr. Triplett observes, "is thus seen to be a kind of game of preperception wherein the performer so plays upon the psychical processes of his audience that the issues are as he desires."

There is, too, a class of tricks which illustrate a process, the reverse of this; and which depend for their éclat upon making the issues coincide with the apparently freely expressed choice of the spectator, while really the performer as rigidly determines the result as in all other cases. One of the best of these proceeds by collecting some eight or nine questions prepared by as many persons in the audience, then placing them in a hat, drawing out one at random, and finding the answer to the question thus selected written on the inside surfaces of a pair of slates. The deception begins in the substitution for the collected slips of paper, of the same number of slips all containing the same carefully prepared question; the production of the writing on the blank slate is a chemical technicality. It is a similar result that is obtained in forcing a card; or when the conjurer asks the audience to select one of a group of similar objects, and then himself decides whether the selected object shall be used for the trick or discarded; likewise, when a magic bottle is presented from which any desired variety of liquor may be produced, it is easy to suggest the choice according to the available possibilities. There is thus an imitation of the psychological factors as well as of the objective factors of real experience; and both are utilized in the deceptions of the professional conjurer.

The art of misleading the attention is recognized as the point of good conjuring, the analogy of the diplomacy that makes the object of language to conceal thought; and many appropriate illustrations of this point may be derived from this field. The little flourishes, tossing an object up in the air, ruffling or springing a pack of cards, a little joke—all these create a favorable opportunity, a temp when the attention is diverted and the other hand can reach behind the table or into the "pocket." It is not necessary to pursue further these details of technique; it will suffice to analyze the points of interest in the chest-and-ring trick described above. Here the moment for the exchange of the rings is the one which is least suggestive of its being a part of the performance, and therefore least attended to. The preparations for the shooting absorb the attention and allow the introduction of the small table at the rear to pass unnoticed; while the series of drawings of the chests so entirely prepare the spectator for the appearance of the last chest from the one preceding, that he actually sees the chest emerge from where it never had been.

It is necessary, however, not only to provide an opportunity for non-attention or misdirected attention, but to be able to take advantage of it when the proper moment arrives. Here enters the dexterity alike of pickpocket and of conjurer. The training in quickness and accuracy of motion, in delicacy of touch, in the simultaneous perception of a wide range of sense-impressions, are among the psychological requisites of a successful conjurer. He must dissociate the natural factors of his habits, actually doing one thing while seemingly attending to another; at the same time his eyes and his gestures and his "patter" misdirect the attention to what is apparently the essential field of operation, but really only a blind to distract attention away from the true scene of action. The conjurer directs your attention to what he does not do; he does not do what he pretends to do; and to what he actually does he is careful neither to appear to direct his own attention nor to arouse yours.

IV

There is, however, one important factor lacking in the conjurer's performance to illustrate completely the psychology of deception; it is that the mental attitude of the observer is too definite. He knows that he is being deceived by skill and adroitness, and rather enjoys it the more, the more he is deceived. He has nothing at stake; his mind rests easy without any detailed or complete explanation of how it was done. Quite different must have been the feeling of the spectator before the necromancer of old, in whose performance was seen the evidence of secret powers that could at a moment's notice be turned against any one to take away good luck, to bring on disease, or even to transform one into a beast. When magic spells and wonder-working potions were believed in, what we would now speak of as a trick was surrounded with a halo of awe and mystery by the sympathetic attitude of the spectators. The most complete parallel to this in modern times is presented by the physical phenomena of Spiritualism; and so many of the manifestations presented by performing mediums in evidence of Spiritualism have been exposed and proven to be conjuring tricks, that it is no longer an assumption to consider them in this connection. Spiritualistic phenomena present a perfect mine for illustrations of the psychology of deception, and it is these that I shall consider as the final topic in this cursory view.