Part 9

So far as the strength and weakness of the arguments for mental telegraphy depend upon the perspective of value attached to the various data and to the conditions under which these have been gathered, I have presented my estimate and indicated the burden of my conclusions. But I am aware that I may have laid myself open to the charge--which will be brought not by the advocates of telepathy, but by its most emphatic opponents--of a neglect of consideration of the general logical status of telepathy as a germane and legitimate hypothesis. That the hypothesis of telepathy when carefully interpreted is capable, if not of explaining the data, at least of being fitted without undue straining to a large portion of the data, may be claimed with some plausibility; that I regard the hypothesis as unwarranted and unnecessary has been made sufficiently clear. But what if the hypothesis is not a legitimate one, not one which the methods and spirit of science can properly or profitably consider? If this be the case, it would seem superfluous to consider whether the hypothesis is warranted by the data or capable of explaining them. That it is the policy of science to allow the utmost latitude of opinion and theory and to interpret the possible in an unprejudiced and liberal spirit will readily be conceded. That it is equally the policy of science to demand of all claimants for recognition authentic credentials framed in accordance with the laws of logic and the principles of evidence and probability, is sometimes overlooked. Science cannot possibly consider all hypotheses, but only legitimate ones. To explain coincidences and the success of experiments in thought-transference by assuming that there is a demon, whose special business it is to make people have uncanny feelings when their relatives in distant places are dying or in danger, and to suggest to the guesser what is in the mind of the party of the second part in the experiment, is certainly not an hypothesis worthy of consideration by science; and incidentally be it noted that this hypothesis may be successfully shaped to fit the facts, and cannot be definitely disproved. Some absurd hypotheses may be readily disproved and others not; but are scientists really called upon to disprove them? There recently fell under my observation a claim for the theory that when persons felt an unaccountable aversion for one another, either at once or after a time of friendship, it was due to their opposite horoscopic natures, and it would be found that their birthdays were not far from six months apart, that is, nearly as far apart as they possibly could be. Divorces, breaches of promise, family feuds, and antipathies at first sight could thus be accounted for. Now, it would involve no very burdensome undertaking to disprove this theory; but I should not expect a cordial approval of my efforts on the part of my colleagues if I carried through the investigation. The hypothesis is unscientific, or even anti-scientific, and its examination unnecessary and unprofitable. Yet it is not always possible to render so decisive a verdict; and in the present case, while I incline to the belief that the hypothesis of telepathy is, as usually advanced and in essence, an illegitimate one, I still regard it as possible that in the future some modification of this hypothesis may be framed, which will bring it within the scope of a liberal conception of the scientific. It is important to make this attitude perfectly clear: if telepathy means the hypothesis of a new force, that is, the assumption of an as yet uncomprehended mode of the output of energy, subject rigorously to the physical bonds of material causation which make possible a rational conception of psycho-physiological processes; and if, further, some one will put forth a rational conception of how this assumed action can take place apart from the exercise of the senses, I am prepared to admit that this hypothesis is (not sound, or strong, or in accordance with the facts, or capable of explaining the facts, or warranted by the facts, but) one which it is legitimate, though perhaps not profitable, to consider. If, however, telepathy is put forward as a totally new and peculiar kind of action, which is quite unrelated to the ordinary forces with which our senses and scientific observation acquaint us, and which is not subject to the limitations of the material world of causation; if telepathy is supposed to reveal to us a world beyond or behind or mysteriously intertwined with the phenomena of this world,--a world in which events happen not in accordance with the established physical laws, but for their personal significance even in defiance of those laws,--then it becomes impossible for the scientist to consider this hypothesis without abandoning his fundamental conceptions of law and science.

My defense, therefore, for not beginning and possibly confining this discussion to the question of the scientific legitimacy of the telepathic hypothesis is that, in the present status of opinion, it does not seem to me hopeful to influence belief by such a presentation. It seems to me a far more practical step to present the unwarranted character of the hypothesis and its logical insufficiencies as a means of influencing those who had been, or were likely to be, impressed by coincidences and death-warning experiences and guessing experiments. And, moreover, it is necessary, so long as such experiences have a strong hold on the popular imagination and shape the popular conceptions of the nature both of mental processes and of the field of psychology, to portray as well as may be the natural explanation and significance of the phenomena, and to indicate the general trend of the conceptions under which they may be profitably viewed; and this, even though it be but measurably possible to apply general principles to special cases. This step is an essential part of the logical task here attempted. Under other circumstances it would have been advisable, as it always would be proper, to determine the legitimacy of an hypothesis before considering it as worthy of detailed examination on other counts. But here, as is frequently the case, it is a condition and not one of our own choosing that confronts us.

VIII

What is the logical conclusion to be drawn from the data offerable in evidence of some supersensory form of thought-transference, and whence the disposition to believe in the existence of such a procedure?--these remain the central questions of the discussion. As to the former, I can say no more in dismissing the topic than that to me the phenomena represent a complex conglomerate, in which imperfectly recognized modes of sense-action, hyperæsthesia and hysteria, fraud, conscious and unconscious, chance, collusion, similarity of mental processes, an expectant interest in presentiments and a belief in their significance, nervousness and ill health, illusions of memory, hallucinations, suggestion, contagion, and other elements enter into the composition; while defective observation, falsification of memory, forgetfulness of details, bias and prepossession, suggestion from others, lack of training and of a proper investigative temperament, further invalidate and confuse the records of what is supposed to have been observed. Many of the reported facts are not facts at all; others are too distortedly and too deficiently reported to be either intelligible or suggestive; some are accurately observed and properly recorded, and these sometimes contain a probable suggestion of their natural explanation, sometimes must be put down as chance, and more often must be left unexplained. To call this absence of an explanation telepathy is surely no advance; to pose this hypothetic process as the _modus operandi_ of any result that can be even remotely and contingently otherwise accounted for seems superfluous; to actually use this hypothesis to account for still more obscure and more indefinite and less clearly established phenomena is a most egregious logical sin.

As to the natural tendency to believe in telepathy, it may be regarded as part of the anthropocentric and egocentric view of the universe and its happenings, and as an exemplification of the persistence of the mystical view of mundane events,--both of which are dominant in primitive philosophy, remain conspicuous wherever superstition still has a hold, flourish in pseudo-science and in esoteric cults, and will probably never become wholly obsolete. Mr. Clodd's remarks concerning the general notions underlying "sympathetic magic" may be applied to the bias in favor of the telepathic theory: "The general idea has only to be decked in another garb to fit the frame of mind which still reserves some pet sphere of nature for the operation of the special and the arbitrary." However difficult it may be to realize fully and in detail that the objective order of things is not arranged for our several personal benefits, that conclusion is inevitably forced upon us by a true insight into the inexorable logic of events, and harmonizes with the reflections of our more logical moods. Whatever tide there may be in human affairs is largely of our own making; there is nothing to mark the flood except our own judgment and insight. We may select and arrange and adapt circumstances according to our needs, but the selection is made by us and not for us: "We must _take_ the current when it serves." Some effort is necessary, some schooling must be gone through with, to enforce this attitude and to give it the practical effectiveness of a living conviction. The attitude of conformity with current belief, the easy acceptance of the plausible, the avoidance of careful and questioning analysis, are far more inviting and less exacting than the regulation of belief by the logic of matured principles. The strenuous life has quite as important a mission in intellectual as in practical affairs. It will be a decided advance when it becomes generally acknowledged that the discussion of such an hypothesis as telepathy presupposes an intimate acquaintance not merely with the facts concerned, but with the logical aspects of their interpretation; that the probability of forming a sound opinion on such matters is measured not by the fervor of the interest in them, but by the intellectual requisites necessary to steer one's way among the intricacies and dangers of such an expedition. No persons are more deeply interested in the successful issue of a voyage than the passengers; but this interest does not qualify them to form an intelligent opinion upon the proper direction of the machinery or the setting of the course,--much less does it fit them to take an active part in the actual navigation. Yet there are always those who confidently criticise the actions of captain and pilot, and are anxious to display their ability to form opinions of their own in regard to the intricate navigation over nature's highways. The most efficient antidote to the too ready inclination towards the popular or the superficial interpretation of the phenomena involved in mental telegraphy is doubtless the cultivation of the logical vigor and prudence so frequently referred to; and next to this is an appreciation of the marvelous complexity and unfathomable subtlety of mental operations.

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF DECEPTION

The saying that appearances are deceptive is an inheritance from ancient times; to Oriental and to Greek philosophers the illusory nature of the knowledge furnished by the senses was a frequent and a fertile theme of contemplation and discussion. The same problem stands open to the psychologist of to-day; but, profiting by the specialization of learning and the advance of technical science, he can give it a more comprehensive as well as a more practical answer. The physiological activities underlying sense-perception are now fairly well understood; the experimental method has extended its domain over the field of mental phenomena; and in many ways have we become more expert in addressing our queries to the sphinx, Nature, so as to force a reply. To outline the position of modern psychology with reference to this interesting problem of deception is the object of the present essay.

I

In a sense-impression we recognize a primitive element in the acquisition of knowledge. The deprivation of a sense even under most favorable circumstances leaves some traces of an incomplete mental development. This is due, not to the mere sense-impressions that the organ furnishes, but to the perception and coördination of these by inferential processes of a more complex nature. It is not the eye of the eagle, but the brain directing the human eye, that leads to intellectual supremacy. Physiology recognizes this distinction as one between lower and higher brain-centres. A man may have his retina or his optic nerve injured, and so be blind in the ordinary sense of the word. He is prevented from acquiring further knowledge by this avenue; but, unless he become blind in early childhood, he will retain a memory for visual images, will be able more or less clearly to imagine pictorially the appearances of objects from verbal descriptions, and in the free roamings of his dream fancy will live in a world in which blindness is unknown. On the other hand, there is a condition resulting from the disintegration of certain portions of the finely organized cortex of the brain, in which the patient may retain full sight and understanding, but be unable to derive any meaning from what he sees. The same cluster of sensations that enables us to recognize a book, a picture, a face, and to arouse all the numerous associations attaching to these, is as unmeaning to him as the symbols of a cipher alphabet. This condition is termed "psychic blindness;" and what is there lost is not the power of vision, but of interpreting, of assimilating, of reading the meaning of visual sense-impressions. It is this interpreting and assimilating process that is largely concerned in the formation of illusions.

In the experiences of daily life we have to do not with simple sensations, but with more or less complex inferences from them; and it is just because these inferences go on so constantly and so unconsciously that they are continually and persistently overlooked. It is an occasional experience in raising a water-pitcher to have the vessel fly up in the hand in a very startling manner,--the reason for this being that the pitcher, which one is accustomed to find well filled, happens to be empty. This experience shows that we unconsciously estimate the force necessary to raise the vessel, but only become conscious of this train of inference when it happens to lead to conclusions contradictory of the fact. The perception of distance, once thought to be as primitive a factor in cognition as the impression of a color, is likewise the result of complex though unrealized inferences; and the phenomena of the stereoscope, by imitating the conditions of the perception of solidity and thus making us see as solid the flat representations of a pair of diagrams or photographs, furnish a brilliant illustration of the variety and complexity of such unconscious reasonings. As for essential purposes normal persons have a common anatomy, a common physiology, and a common psychology, it results that we draw these unconscious inferences after the same pattern; and so completely are they the outcome of the normal reactions to our common environment, that we need not be, and as a rule are not, aware of their existence until--and probably with some little effort--our attention is directed to them. Unconsciously and spontaneously we learn to see,--that is, to extract meaning out of the sense-impressions that fall upon the retina.

The simplest type of a deception occurs when an inference or an interpretation of this type, owing to an _unusual disposition of external circumstances_, leads to a conclusion which other and presumably superior testimony shows to be false. Thus, in the observation which Aristotle knew and described, that a pea or other round object held between two fingers crossed one over the other seems double, it is the unusual position of the fingers that induces the illusion. Under ordinary circumstances a sensation of contact on the left side of one finger and on the right side of the finger next to it (to the right) could only be produced by the simultaneous application of two bodies. We unconsciously and naturally make the same inference when the fingers are crossed, and thus fall into error--an error, it is important to observe, which we do not _outgrow_ but _antagonize_ by more convincing evidence. The pea held between the crossed fingers continues to _feel_ like two peas, but we are under no temptation to _believe_ that there really are two peas.

The limitations of our senses lead directly to the possibilities of their deception, which may in turn be realized inadvertently or utilized intentionally. We appreciate how defective is our localization of sound when we attempt to find a cricket by locating whence proceeds its chirp; the same difficulty lends uncertainty to the determination of the direction of fog-horn signals of passing steamers. This uncertainty coöperates in the illusions of ventriloquism; it is involved in the smack which one clown gives another, but which is really the clapping of the hands of the supposed victim; it produces a realistic effect when a cannon is fired on the stage, for it is necessary only to show the flash while the noise is produced behind the scenes. Again, the stimulation of the retina is ordinarily due to the impinging upon it of light-waves emanating from an external object. Accordingly, when the retina is disturbed by any exceptional cause, such as a blow on the head or an electric shock to the optic nerve, we have a sensation of light projected outward into space. The perception of our own locomotion, which is likewise a highly inferential process, offers illustrations of casual illusion and of artificial deception. When on a train, it is by the passing-by before our eyes in the opposite direction of trees and posts and other features of the landscape, that we realize that we are moving forward; accordingly, when a train alongside moves out before our own train has started, we have a distinct realization that we are moving backwards so long as we look at the forward-moving train. There is an illusion devised for amusement called the "Magic Swing," in which one is apparently swung to and fro with wider and wider excursions until a complete revolution is apparently made from a vertical to a horizontal, through the antipodal position, back to the horizontal and the normal. In reality, only a slight motion is imparted to the swing, but the inclosing walls, which are painted to represent a forest scene, are themselves revolved forward and then backward about the axis from which the swing is suspended. As, however, we have no experience with oscillating trees, we unconsciously infer the oscillations to be and feel them in our own persons. In another application of the same illusion we seem to be let down into the bowels of the earth; but after a slight actual descent the car remains stationary while the illuminated sides of the shaft, which are suitably painted, are moved panorama-like in an upward direction. In brief, we are creatures of the average; we are adjusted for the most probable event; our organism has acquired the habits impressed upon it by the most frequent experiences; and this has induced an inherent logical necessity to interpret a new experience by the old, an unfamiliar by the familiar. In describing illusions of the above type, Mr. Sully aptly says that they "depend on the general mental law that when we have to do with the unfrequent, the unimportant, and therefore unattended to, and the exceptional, we employ the ordinary, the familiar, and the well known as our standard." Illusion arises when the rule thus applied fails to hold; and whether or not we become cognizant of the illusion depends upon the ease with which the exceptional character of the particular instance can be recognized, or the inference to which it leads be opposed by presumably more reliable evidence.

II

To make things seem more wonderful than they are, to possess knowledge and exhibit power beyond the ken of the multitude, has exercised a fascination upon the human mind in all its stages of development. The primitive conjuring of the ancient priest or of the savage medicine-man, the long tradition of Oriental legerdemain, and the stage performances of the modern prestidigitateur are all connected with deep-seated human instincts. It has even been suggested[3] that the mimicry and death-feigning instincts of animals, though essentially biological in type, are yet related to the psychological instincts of deception which make their first clear appearance in the higher animals and assume a distinctive position in the psychological equipment of childhood. The conjuring tricks or paradoxes which apparently contradict or rise superior to ordinary experience, furnish the most various types of illustration of the psychology of deception. Whether presented as miracle by priest or by thaumaturgist or by expounder of the black art, or presented as proof of spirit agency by the modern spiritualistic medium or his less pretentious predecessors, or by the stage performer for entertainment, the analysis of what was actually done, and the accounts of what the spectators saw or believed that they saw, illuminate with striking brilliancy the _modus operandi_ of the processes whereby appearance takes the semblance of reality and observation is shrewdly led astray. The conjurer thus becomes a suggester and an actor, not a mere exhibitor of his manipulative skill.

As our present purpose is to investigate the nature of real deception, of the formation of false beliefs which may in turn lead to unwise action, it will be well to note that even such elementary forms of sense-deceptions as those just noted may fall under this head. No one allowed the use of his eyes will ever believe that the pea held between the crossed fingers is really double, but children often think that a spoon half immersed in water is really bent. Primitive peoples believe that the moon really grows smaller as it rises above the horizon; and the ancients could count sufficiently upon the ignorance of the people, to make use of mirrors and other stage devices for revealing the power of the gods. The ability to correct such errors depends solely upon the possession of certain knowledge or of a confidence in its existence.