I have decided to become a fairaeologist — one who studies fairies. I believe I see fairies. I’m sure they exist. So I start a journal, printed and bound at my local copy shop, called the Journal of Advanced Fairaeotics (JAF).
I get a few mates, also fairy believers, to be my “peer reviewers”. I sit up all night with a torch and reckon I see a petite-winged fairy dancing in the moonlight across the daisy heads. I write up my observations, explain my methods, discuss my findings, all of which are published in the JAF:
Joubert, L. 2008 “Nocturnal ambulations of the lesser-winged daisy fairy” (Faerie daiseii). Journal of Advanced Fairaeotics. Volume 1.
An illustrator draws a picture of F daiseii, based on my field notes, to go with a piece I’m writing for the local knock-and-drop.
When the scientific community challenges me, saying my claims contradict a huge body of knowledge built on testable observation and evidence, I complain that the scientific method is fundamentally flawed, because it doesn’t accommodate my particular world view.
There’s a blurring in the popular mind, these days, between the physical and mystical worlds — mostly because the mystical is dressing itself up in sciencey-sounding ideas to earn it greater legitimacy. And, because most of us aren’t well-enough versed in the nuances of physics, it’s difficult to separate the fact from the flimflam.
Consider a recent conversation I overheard — about news and why it’s always bad — which devolved into a statement that if we all thought positively, we could physically shift reality and bring about peace, health and happiness.
The basis for this wonder claim includes a 1993 experiment in Washington — 4 000 people supposedly used meditation to reduce the rate of violent crime in the city by 18%. The research was later published in the journal Social Indicators Research in 1999.
But scientists dismissed the work as being profoundly flawed — the interpretation of data was riddled with problems (including that murder increased during that time) and the “independent” reviewers of the paper were all followers of the very school of meditation that conducted the research. Nevertheless, belief in the so-called Maharishi effect still lingers.
As these metaphysical claims about consciousness and positive thought can’t stand up to scientific scrutiny, the mystical community has created its own universities, research institutions and reviewed journals to make them look legit.
Now, 15 years on, a misinterpretation of quantum mechanics is used to “explain” how our thoughts can shift the world around us.
A case in point: a New Age conference happens in Jo’burg next month that will bring together “top professional holistic and spiritual experts” for a two-day smorgasbord of “body, mind, soul” healing and education.
“Quantum truths that can transform and heal your world,” crows the programme about one keynote address.
“Today’s science,” the speaker claims, “is stranger than fiction.” Then she throws out a few references to quantum truths, health and spiritual growth — a repeat of the pseudoscientific nonsense from the film What the Bleep Do We Know!? (a propaganda piece for a cult founded by JZ Knight, who claims to channel the 35 000-year-old spirit of a warrior from Atlanta called Ramtha).
There isn’t space here to debunk the misappropriation of quantum by this metaphysical crowd (it’s been done at length). But the point is that the scientific method — which is evidence-based, involving observation, empirical measurement and reasoned thinking — tries to set standards by which we can explain the workings of our universe.
It’s possible, using neuro-imaging, to see how meditation changes activity levels in the brain. That’s evidence-based and observable. It’s not possible to see that same electrical energy moving through the skull, leaving the head and interacting with the world outside of the body.
Should we conclude that because we don’t have the equipment to measure such energy, it must be there, but we just can’t see it yet? Or should we be sceptical, because other known laws of the universe suggest this might not be how things work?
Granted, there’s a lot we don’t yet know about the way the universe works. Two hundred years ago we didn’t know about quarks or string theory. But that doesn’t mean that we should adopt an “anything goes” approach to the pursuit of knowledge.
Back to the fairy example — sure, we can’t show conclusively that fairies don’t exist, so we should remain “agnostic” about them. Similarly we should remain agnostic about metaphysical claims about the power of positive thought.
The burden of proof should be on me to prove to you that fairies do exist, not on you to prove to me that they don’t. Until then, if extraordinary claims are made without evidence, they can just as well be dismissed without evidence.