When I was working on a 2007 column and then a longer story last year about why people believe in paranormal and supernatural phenomena, one of the most insightful scientists I spoke to was psychology researcher Bruce Hood of Britain’s University of Bristol. As he does in his blog, he explained that believing in ghosts, ESP, telepathy or even that you can tell when someone is looking at you from behind is not a matter of religion or culture, but instead reflects the normal workings of the brain. Now Hood has a new book called Supersense
that delves into “why we believe in the unbelievable,” as his subtitle
puts it. “Humans are born with brains designed to make sense of the
world and that sometimes leads to beliefs that go beyond any natural
explanation," he argues. "We are inclined from the start to think that
there are unseen patterns, forces and essences inhabiting the world. . .
. This way of thinking is unavoidable, and it may be part of human
nature to see ourselves connected to each other at this deeper level.” The numbers alone support his argument that many people—a lot of them
smart and highly educated—believe in supernatural phenomena. Polls show
that 73 percent of U.S. adults believe in at least one supernatural
phenomenon (41% in ESP, 37% in haunted houses, 32% in ghosts, 31% in
telepathy, 26% in clairvoyance, 21% in communicating with the dead). And
superstitions are rampant. Tony Blair
wore the same pair of shoes to answer Parliamentarians’ questions. John
McEnroe made sure not to step on the lines as he walked on or off a
tennis court during a tournament. John McCain carries a lucky feather
and lucky coins. Barack Obama, having played basketball on the morning
of the day he won the Iowa caucuses, played every other primary and
caucus day thereafter. These and other “secular rituals,” as Hood calls
them, show that “everyone is susceptible to supernatural beliefs.” These beliefs are supported by what we think are personal experiences
of the supernatural—having a premonition that someone is about to call
and then hearing their voice when we answer the phone, for instance.
Indeed, people cite such first-hand experiences of the supernatural, not
religious teachings, for their belief in it. And once we believe, we
find ever-more evidence to support that belief, due to “confirmatory
bias,” the well-established psychological phenomenon of noticing and
remembering events that confirm a belief and forgetting those that
challenge it. Don’t you remember the times your premonitions were right
(besides that phone call, maybe that something bad would happen to
someone) and forget the times you were wrong? I bet McEnroe would
vividly remember any time he lost a match because he inadvertently
stepped on a line. The core of the book is an examination of the brain processes that
underlie that susceptibility, the “mind design” in which supernatural
beliefs originate. For instance:
I disagree with Hood when he argues that a sentimental attachment to
objects reflects superstitious beliefs, namely that the essence of the
person or place resides in the article of clothing or other memento. For
many of us, the object is a powerful reminder of someone or someplace,
not something spooky. Nor am I convinced that collectors of memorabilia
are motivated by a spooky sense of supernatural connectedness—the
“tendency to see objects as possessing invisible properties that
originate from significant individuals,” in Hood's words—rather than a
simple desire to be reminded of something. (“Few things are more
irrational that the human obsession for collecting,” he argues
unpersuasively.) And Hood is too kind to supernatural beliefs when he
credits them with enabling us to share the “sacred values” that bind
together our societies. Given recent events, I think we could use fewer
sacred values (jihads, promised lands . . . ) and more values rooted in
justice, compassion and altruism. |