Pseudoscience – Nicolas Demers

The Secret Doctrine

Last night I went to see The Secret Doctrine, a play about the 19th century mystic, cult leader and huckster Madame Helena Blavatsky. It is directed by Ines Buchli and shown at the SFU Woodward’s Fei and Milton Wong Experimental Theatre. It’s a great play, with some very impressive sound and visual effects, and though condensed and somewhat fictionalised, it’s a fascinating summary of Madame Blavatsky at her peak—the conjuring tricks, the philosophy, the intelligence and charisma.

Last night I went to see The Secret Doctrine, a play about the 19th century mystic, cult leader and huckster Madame Helena Blavatsky. It is directed by Ines Buchli and shown at the SFU Woodward’s Fei and Milton Wong Experimental Theatre. It’s a great play, with some very impressive sound and visual effects, and though condensed and somewhat fictionalised, it’s a fascinating look at Madame Blavatsky at her peak—the conjuring tricks, the philosophy, the intelligence and charisma.

The other main character is Richard Hodgson; historically, he was an Australian-born lawyer sent by the Society for Psychical Research to do a report on Blavatsky. Though he concluded she was a fraud, he did believe in paranormal phenomena. The play made him a Canadian-born physicist working on electromagnetic theory. His first scene shows him doing work related to the Michelson-Morley experiment, trying vainly to prove the existence of the luminiferous aether. He is also a strong skeptic, pooh-poohing his colleague’s latching on to Blavatsky’s teachings. This Hodgson traveled of his own volition to India to live in Madame’s compound, mostly to keep a promise to his dead colleague to give her a fair chance. He falls under her spell a little, but eventually snaps out of it and denounces Blavatsky to the SPR.

Making Hodgson a scientist was an interesting choice, because while the story is centred on Blavatsky and Hodgson, it’s really about the 19th Century as a whole: an age struggling towards reason, trying to build an understanding of the universe based on science instead of faith. Darwin killed God, so they said, or at least made Him unnecessary, but many people were still hungry for miracles and revelation. Add to that a more connected world enabling increased contact with other cultures, and it made for a strange and potent mix. Blavatsky’s Theosophy borrowed from Hinduism and Buddhism and various mystery religions, but also the language of science, and tried to connect all of them into a sort of Grand Unified Spiritual Theory.

In the play, some of the Mahatmas’ revelations hinted very strongly at Special Relativity and Quantum Mechanics, both theories still a couple decades away. More poetic license, I guess, especially since they end up guiding Hodgson’s research towards brilliant new discoveries upon his return to London. But here’s a thought: yes, Theosophy was a gobbledigook mish-mash of conflicting philosophies and faiths, claiming to deep and ancient truth but not delivering. However: it inspired scientists. It apparently inspired Einstein, who was said to own a copy of Blavatsky’s book The Secret Doctrine. That may or may not be true but if it is, it’s not really that surprising; isn’t one of his most famous quotes that “Imagination is more important than knowledge”? Atheist though he was, I always found Einstein to have a little bit of the mystical about him.

So you could look at Theosophy and similar cults as a kind of Victorian proto-science-fiction, collections of narratives, tropes and memes centered (to varying degrees) around science and scientific knowledge, guiding practitioners to build on them and take them to the next level. We take it for granted now, but science as a institution and a culture was still very new. The scientists and engineers who got men on the Moon were inspired by old-time sci-fi pulps—Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon and Captain Future; those writers and the scientists of their time owe much to Jules Verne and H.G. Wells; but where did Victorian scientists find their inspiration? From what was there: esoteric ecumenical philosophies, outdated (to us) and rather mystical beliefs about energy and life and electricity/magnetism, and Enlightenment-friendly organised religions. I guess inspiration is where you find it. And beliefs don’t have to be true to be inspirational.

It’s possible I’m overanalysing this. That’s okay, though. I expected The Secret Doctrine to just be a critique of a fraud and/or the weird pseudo-scientific philosophies she preached, but it gave me a lot of food for thought. I love when that happens!

I Overdosed Twice

This Saturday I took part in Vancouver’s 10:23 Challenge (“Homeopathy – There’s Nothing In It”) A bunch of CFI people on the steps of the Art Gallery, doing a homeopathy demonstration (complete with whacking the magic elixir against a leather-bound Bible, which is what Hahnemann apparently preferred), and some of us overdosing on homeopathic medicine. Or I should say, “medicine,” with sarcastic quote marks.

Arnica Montana (30C dilution)

I was told this was a muscle relaxant, but according to homeopathic web sites I consulted later (emphasis theirs):

Produces conditions upon the system quite similar to those resulting from injuries, falls, blows, contusions. Tinnitus aurium. Putrid phenomena. Septic conditions; prophylactic of pus infection. Apoplexy, red, full face.
It is especially suited to cases when any injury, however remote, seems to have caused the present trouble. After traumatic injuries, overuse of any organ, strains. Arnica Montana is disposed to cerebral congestion. Acts best in plethoric, feebly in debilitated with impoverished blood, cardiac dropsy with dyspnoea. A muscular tonic. Traumatism of grief, remorse or sudden realization of financial loss.^(source)

Apparently Hahnemann “found it helped heal everything from baldness and impotence to incontinence, cramps, bruises, general soreness, forgetfulness, travel sickness, sleeping problems, gout, rheumatism and emotional problems”^(source)

The directions on the bottle were “5 pellets, 3 times per day or as directed by your health care practicioner.” I took around 80 in one shot, and sadly didn’t develop a Wolverine-like healing factor.

Silicea (200C dilution)

Imperfect assimilation and consequent defective nutrition. It goes further and produces neurasthenic states in consequence, and increased susceptibility to nervous stimuli and exaggerated reflexes. Diseases of bones, caries and necrosis. Silicea can stimulate the organism to re-absorb fibrotic conditions and scar-tissue.

[…]

Ill effects of vaccination. suppurative processes. It is related to all pustulous burrowings. Ripens abscesses since it promotes suppuration. Silica patient is cold, chilly, hugs the fire, wants plenty warm clothing, hates drafts, hands and feet cold, worse in winter. Lack of vital heat. Prostration of mind and body. Great sensitiveness to taking cold. Intolerance of alcoholic stimulants. Ailments attended with Pus formation. Epilepsy. Want of grit, moral or physical.^(source)

An abundant mineral in the earth’s crust, silicia has a profound cleansing effect on the body. Long neglected and persistent ailments respond well to silicea therapy.

Silicea, derived from quartz or flint and an essential structural component of cartilage and bone, is used to treat chronic conditions that progress slowly over time. It is also very effective against seasonal ailments, such as colds. Like other homeopathic remedies, silicea is typically prescribed to relieve symptoms associated with particular personality types. Those most likely to benefit from silicea show such character traits as lack of direction, pliability, weakness, confusion, fear of failure and the kind of mental burnout seen in those who overwork to the point of exhaustion. Silicea is said to impart qualities that reflect its rock hard origins, structure in one’s life, clarity, steadfastness and reliability. Also referred to as silica, silicea has a powerful restorative and stabilizing effect on the human body.^(source)

The directions on the bottle were also “5 pellets, 3 times per day or as directed by the physician.” Again, I scarfed down 80 of the little buggers, and didn’t start looking like The Thing. Just as well, old Ben Grimm acts like he’s Blessed with Suck most of the time.

So that was kind of fun. What really struck me looking up these medicines is how vague their effects are supposed to be. Seriously, sudden realization of financial loss? baldness? forgetfulness? Want of grit, moral or physical? Still, that’s par for the course for faith healing.

How to Identify Pseudoscience, Quackery, and Fraud with Dr. Harriet Hall

Okay, it’s been almost two weeks, and I’ve kept putting off blogging about this event. Partly because I’ve been extremely busy, with a new full-time job and working on my freelance career, and partly because, well, I didn’t learn anything earth-shattering. Dr. Hall’s talk at Langara College about the ins and outs of pseudoscience, what it is, how to identify it, and why people believe in it, covered a lot of ground already well-visited by people like Michael Shermer. Still, there were some good tidbits. In point-form, then:

“Thinking like a human” is not a logical way to think but it is not a stupid way to think either. You could say that our thinking is intelligently illogical. Millions of years of evolution did not result in humans that think like a computer. It is precisely because we think in an intelligently illogical way that our predecessors were able to survive…
—Morgan Levy, MD

And that quote from Dr. Morgan Levy’s book Placebo Medicine (available free online) pretty much sums up why people believe weird things.

One thing I did learn was that Jesus promoted colon cleansing. No, seriously! It’s in the Essene Gospel of Peace. Good to know whenever the old Argument from Authority is pulled out.

“Think not that it is sufficient that the angel of water embrace you outwards only. I tell you truly, the uncleanness within is greater by much than the uncleanness without. And he who cleanses himself without, but within remains unclean, is like to tombs that outwards are painted fair, but are within full of all manner of horrible uncleannesses and abominations. So I tell you truly, suffer the angel of water to baptize you also within, that you may become free from all your past sins, and that within likewise you may become as pure as the river’s foam sporting in the sunlight.

“Seek, therefore, a large trailing gourd, having a stalk the length of a man; take out its inwards and fill it with water from the river which the sun has warmed. Hang it upon the branch of a tree, and kneel upon the ground before the angel of water, and suffer the end of the stalk of the trailing gourd to enter your hinder parts, that the water may flow through all your bowels. Afterwards rest kneeling on the ground before the angel of water and pray to the living God that he will forgive you all your past sins, and pray the angel of water that he will free your body from every uncleanness and disease. Then let the water run out from your body, that it may carry away from within it all the unclean and evil-smelling things of Satan. And you shall see with your eyes and smell with your nose all the abominations, and uncleannesses which defiled the temple of your body; even all the sins which abode in your body, tormenting you with all manner of pains. I tell you truly, baptism with water frees you from all of these. Renew your baptizing with water on every day of your fast, till the day when you see that the water which flows out of you is as pure as the river’s foam. Then betake your body to the coursing river, and there in the arms of the angel of water render thanks to the living God that he has freed you from your sins. And this holy baptizing by the angel of water is: Rebirth unto the new life. For your eyes shall henceforth see, and your ears shall hear. Sin no more, therefore, after your baptism, that the angels of air and of water may eternally abide in you and serve you evermore.

Dr. Hall also quoted from Pope Brock’s Charlatan, a book about old-time huckster Charles Brinkley, who got famous by performing goat-to-human testicle transplants, to restore the energy and virility of his patients. It sounds deliciously weird, and I’ve added it to my reading list.

She concluded with a few tips on how to deal with pseudoscientific claims or theories:

How do I know that’s so?
Where’s the evidence?
What’s the evidence against? Is there another side to the story?

Which leads to the SkepDoc’s rule of thumb:

Before accepting a claim we should try to find out who disagrees with it and why.

Words to live by.

PNE 2010: Rain, Candy, Pigs and Quacks

We got in right under the buzzer. Some friends and I made our annual pilgrimage to the PNE on September 6^th, the very last day. It was cold and showery, but I didn’t let that bother me. There was fun to be had!

First, Candy Nation, a history of candy through the ages—well, really just modern candy, since 1900 or thereabouts, though there were a few bits about sweets of the 18^th and 19^th centuries.

And of course, no candy exhibit would be complete without some actual (ridiculously cheap) candy to buy. I, uh, may have indulged in a few pieces.

Then the dog show, always fun. I caught the tail end of it (no pun intended) last year, which consisted mostly of bloopers: you know, releasing cute little puppies in the arena while older dogs are trying to do their thing, sure to get a laugh or an awwwww from the audience. But we sat through the early parts, and it’s actually pretty exciting, with some real tests of skill.

My only question is: one of the dogs was introduced as “Lady Gaga”, but I don’t think it ended up competing. What happened to Gaga?

The biggest disappointment was missing a performance by people from the Academie Duello. But we left the dog show too late, and got to there (apparently) just after the duellists had packed up for the day. Boo. Still, no big deal. The rain had stopped for the moment, so we wandered around looking at cans.

Then, contortionists. It was a pretty good show, though we had to run under cover when the rain came back. Those kids do have the skill, but most of them didn’t have much of a stage presence. Ah, well, I’m sure they’ll grow into it.

And no visit to the PNE is complete without a tour of the prize home (this year, it’s somewhere near Kelowna).

And then you’ve got the farm, with the duckies and bunnies and cows and horsies and huge sows with their eight (count ’em!) suckling piglets.

Speaking of pigs, I watched them race for the first time. It was a lot of fun, though over too soon. Those pigs can really run!

Mini donuts, cos you gotta have mini donuts at the PNE!

On the other hand, no visit to the PNE marketplace is complete without running into a couple of pseudoscientific garbage. Here we have an “ionic footbath”, meant to detoxify and help you live longer. The (ionic) water is supposed to turn different colours based on which organ the toxins come from, but all the ones on display and in use were the same dark reddish brown colour.

And in the Home Depot pavillion (along with many booths, including one model of the upcoming new BC Place, complete with animation of the retractable roof), artwork from some artists in the East Side Culture Crawl. Can’t wait!

New Bright Lights: Magic and the Lying Brain

The New Bright Lights lecture series started off this morning with the topic of memory, perception and self-delusion. Three fascinating presentations, though one really rubbed me the wrong way.

Lon Mandrake

Lon Mandrake learned magic at his father’s knee, and has cultivated a sense of wonder about the natural world since childhood. As a teacher, he uses magic tricks to both instill the same sense of wonder in his students, and to get them to think scientifically. Magic tricks are followed up with encouragement to come up with hypotheses and experiments, to try to get at the truth. As he stressed during the Q&A session (in response to a question about fake psychic vultures like Sylvia Browne), he prizes openmindedness. He was a little less emphatic in condemning that evil harpy than I’d like, but sure, I’ll go along with it.

He performed a couple of amusing tricks (one of which went wrong, but the subject was a good sport), but it would have been awesome if he’d focused more on science-related demos and less on mentalism.

Rob Hadley

Rob Hadley is a hypnotist, performing on stage, working on patients in a therapy setting, as well as consulting for video game companies to make the gaming experience more immersive. He talked for a bit about the theory of hypnosis, how it was just an altered state of consciousness, with no real trick or magic to it, and then brought a few people from the audience up on stage to be hypnotised. That was kind of fun, and I for one let myself go with the “you are feeling very relaxed, your eyelids are very heavy” bit; out of the four audience members only one really went under, which looks pretty much par for the course.

The really worrying part came when he told us about a patient of his who he’d helped get rid of her budding alcoholism with a little hypnosis… and a homeopathic pill. Immediately the row behind me (all CFI skeptics) started grumbling. The grumbling got worse when Hadley defended homeopathic medecine, arguing that the pill he gave was meant to relax but he’d never told his patient that, therefore it couldn’t be the placebo effect, and concluding with “It just works.” During the Q&A one audience member really laid into him, calling out his, quote, “ignorance of medicine” and lack of ethics. Hadley got defensive (which… is understandable), but couldn’t defend his use of homeopathy except by vaguely quoting some UK studies which shows an efficacy far above the placebo effect.

While we’re talking about ethics, another audience member questioned why he consulted to make some games more immersive, thus making it more likely for players to get addicted, while also curing addictive behaviour. Hadley replied that he worked to make games more enjoyable, and while he agreed that some people would abuse them, he couldn’t be responsible for players with addictive personalities. Which I guess is fair, though still troubling.

Rob Teszka

Rob is a cognitive psychologist working in UBC’s BARLab, and his talk is all about how our perception, memory, attention, and cognition in general is way less reliable than we’d like to think. His talk was just an entertainingly presented string of studies, from the Adelson illusion to that famous video of the gorilla (a new one, actually, with more unexpected details, because too many people had seen the old one), to that guy with the severed corpus callosum (which I’d seen before, but was still damn cool). The brain’s a weird thing, and I’m glad there are people studying it like this!

This is what happens when you mix science and religion

Dr. Hugh Ross is full of shit.

Sure, he’s obviously a smart guy. He knows a lot about science–Astronomy, Mathematics, etc… But he’s also a biblical literalist, and what’s worse, he’s trying to support the one with the other.

Dr. Hugh Ross is full of shit.

Sure, he’s obviously a smart guy. He knows a lot about science—Astronomy, Mathematics, etc… But he’s also a creationist, a biblical literalist, and what’s worse, he’s trying to support the one with the other.

Last night I went to a debate sponsored by CFI and Reasons to Believe: “What’s right and wrong with Christianity?”, taking place at Tenth Avenue Church. Dr. Ross took the “right” side and spoke first, basically blathering on about how modern science fit so well with the biblical creation story, therefore it has to be true. Humans are so unlikely, what with our big brains with no survival value, therefore we must have been designed. Christianity is unique, therefore etc… And so on.

All this delivered at a well-rehearsed breakneck pace, too fast for the audience to do more than go “wait… what?” before moving on to the next bible verse or pretty graph or inspirational urban legend. It was dizzying, frustrating, incredibly condescending, but really not that surprising. I didn’t know Dr. Ross, but I’d read and heard similar “christianity is right and other religions are wrong neener neener” arguments before and, honestly, theists never come up with anything really new.

Which is actually okay, for his usual audience. Because even though last night the people filling the pews were mostly atheists and skeptics, I had the definite impression Dr. Ross was only used to preaching to the choir. Everything he said was designed to appeal to Christians, to reassure them that their beliefs were right. There was nothing there for nonbelievers, or even believers of other faiths. In fact, he kept using loaded terms, like “atheist scientists,” that implied a definite us-vs-them attitude. I’ve seen that before, too, in that creationism vs evolution debate a few years back.

Brian Lynchehaun (who I remember from Skepticamp), addressing the “wrong” side, didn’t go into historical truth or scientific truth, though he easily could have. His speech (much shorter, less rehearsed) dealt with the morality of Christianity; his thrust was that the Bible was not a perfect moral code. In fact, it wasn’t even an especially good one. Its commandments are inconsistent, and its elevation of faith is dangerous because it leaves you open to a whole slew of scams that wouldn’t work on skeptics.

This is what happens when you don’t keep religion and science separate: leave the door open for God or mysticism in your theories and you’re opening a Pandora’s box, because there’s no end to what you can put in. You say Jesus’ body was never found? Maybe the apostles took him. Maybe the Pharisees took him. Maybe he rose from the dead. Maybe he was beamed up by time-traveling Christians out to clone a Messiah 2.0. Mr. Lynchehaun did point out that “God” as an explanation is no less silly than “superpowerful little green men.”

But Dr. Ross isn’t even doing that. He doesn’t respect science, he’s just whoring it out to service his pre-existing beliefs. He’s wrapping the bible in a white lab coat to give it extra prestige for his ignorant flock, thereby twisting and demeaning both spheres. And it’s ironic that he and his audience even want a reason for believing in Christ. What it tells me is that, if they seek (pseudo-)scientific justifications for their faith, then it’s probably a pretty weak faith to begin with, and they’re willing to grab at any straw to hold their house of cards together*. Frankly, I’d have a lot more respect for Christians if they just appealed to simple faith to defend their beliefs. They’d still be wrong, sure, but at least I’d respect the honesty.

(* Apologies for the mixed metaphor)

Enlightenment For Sale

Sunday was quite a full day of volleyball. A reffing clinic around noon, then dropping in to Intermediate 1 (I figured I’d have a good shot, since lots of people would be away for the long weekend), then my usual Intermediate 2 play. There was also a beginner reffing clinic between I1 and I2; I’d already taken it, so it gave me a chance to go grab a bite to eat.

I went to that little muffin/snack place, corner of Alma and 4^th Ave, realised I didn’t have enough cash, and went looking for a bank machine. On an impulse, even though it was dark and drizzling, I decided to wander up 4^th and after a block or two came upon Banyen Books. Wow. Now there’s a name that was totally not on my mind. I’d only been there once or twice probably ten years ago, when I was still in my kinda-paganish phase. To buy a copy of the Tao Te Ching, if I recall. Wait, no, it was to buy a copy of The Complete Book of Tai Chi Chuan, as recommended by my then-teacher, and I bought the TTC on my own because Taoism appealed to me. Ah, memories! So, I couldn’t resist: since I still had some time to kill, I went in to browse.

It was just as I remembered it. I’m pretty sure it used to be in another location, so the layout was probably different, not that that mattered much. And I remember they used to have one of those little fountains, the kind that always makes me want to pee, but didn’t this weekend, thank gawd. But everything else? Exactly. The. Same. Incense, soft music, the promise of magic and revelation in every Tarot deck and $50 crystal. I wandered the shelves of books on dream analysis and cosmic science and Celtic Goddess worship and all sorts of weird esoteric topics I’d never even heard of. So many fluffy morsels for people who’ll believe anything that feels good, people hungrily seeking something they can’t even name and wouldn’t recognize if they found it.

Truth is, I could feel faint echoes of the same yearnings inside me. There was a time when I too was a seeker, sort of. After dropping Catholicism, I looked for answers or at least wisdom in mythologies both old and new to replace beliefs that hadn’t appealed to me in a long time. I didn’t put much effort into it because I never felt that the spiritualities I absorbed were really what I needed. Nowadays, of course, I tend to trust my own judgment and revel in my skepticism. I don’t need faiths, spiritualities to make me complete or hand me The Truth.

Still, I have… moments of weakness. Now, in one corner of the store (next to handsome leatherbound Books of Shadows) were a few racks of sketchpads and notepads, all with very pretty covers. I was seriously tempted to get one. I hadn’t done any drawing in a long time, and I thought it might inspire me. Or at least push me to practice regularly, cos Gawd knows I need the practice. But really, wasn’t that more magical thinking? If they’re anywhere, the talent and the potential are in myself. Not some object I shelled out $24.95 + tax for, no matter how pretty it is.

So I left without getting anything, and went back to the gym to sweat off half my body weight. On the way home I bought a pad of unlined paper at Safeway for a couple of bucks, on which I’ve been doodling since.

Comic Book Review: Seekers Into The Mystery

They say confession’s good for the soul, so here goes:

I’ve read The Celestine Prophecy.

They say confession’s good for the soul, so here goes:

I’ve read The Celestine Prophecy.

Yes, that’s right. Me, the hard-nosed skeptic. Well, that wasn’t always the case. There was a time when I was a bit more interested in the woo-woo side of things. And in my defense, I didn’t really know what the book was about until I actually read it. See, sometime in 1995 I’d heard about this new Vertigo series called Seekers Into The Mystery, to be written by J.M. DeMatteis (who’d also written Moonshadow, which at the time I loved); it was described as “X-Files meets The Celestine Prophecy.” Well, that was enough to pique my interest. I really liked X-Files, I liked J.M. DeMatteis so to get the proper feel, I also decided to read Celestine. Continue reading “Comic Book Review: Seekers Into The Mystery“

Movie Review: What The Bleep Do We Know

Tag line: “It’s time to get wise!”

Uh-huh.

I heard about this movie from a friend of mine, who’d seen it, loved it, and urged me to go see it for myself. From the online trailer, and a couple of reviews I’d read, it looked like your typical pretentious yet shallow New Age fluff, and thus a complete waste of my time. Hell, I’d already suffered through half an hour of Waking Life, people! Nobody should have to endure that twice.

Tag line: “It’s time to get wise!”

Uh-huh.

But: This friend is an even bigger skeptic than I am, and every time we saw each other he asked if I’d seen it. When I answered no, he kept insisting I had to see it. Okay, obviously somebody somewhere was missing something, and I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t me. I trusted my friend’s judgement so, even though my expectations weren’t high, I decided I had to go see it for myself. Keep an open mind, right?

My verdict: Bleah. Where do I even start? How about with the lazy, lazy writing? There’s no story here. Most of the movie is taken up by talking heads babbling a lot of platitudes about the wonders and mysteries of Quantum Mechanics and the human mind. Most of what isn’t talking heads is pretty special effects, of atomic nuclei and galaxies and… a sort of wormhole thingy, which maybe was supposed to represent quantum tunneling? I don’t know. Oh, and a shimmering grid occasionally overlaid on the “normal” world, vanishing and reappearing at random, that was supposed to symbolize how illusory the real world is. It looks just like the Enterprise-D’s holodeck grid, except that grid was yellow and this one is blue. A blatant ripoff, in my opinion.

The rest of the movie was taken up by a paper-thin parable, further driving home the messages of the talking heads. The characters are completely two-dimensional, and even that’s probably generous: there’s the Hard-Nosed Skeptic, who eventually starts believing in spite of her better judgement… and for some reason was written as speech-impaired (possibly hearing-impaired as well, though that wasn’t consistently portrayed. More sloppy writing); there’s her roommate (or lover? again, that part wasn’t clear), the Somewhat Ditzy But Nice And Well-Meaning Believer; and you’ve got the Inexplicably Wise Basketball-Playing Kid, who appears out of nowhere to spout yet more wisdom at the Skeptic and coax her “down the rabbit hole.” Viewers may identify with one or more of them to some extent, because they’re so archetypal (to be charitable), but they have no way to really connect with them, or understand what makes them tick. But then, we’re not supposed to connect with these characters. They—along with the talking heads—exist only to serve as mouthpieces for the movie’s Big Message.

And what is that message? The usual New Agey clichés: The denial of objective reality (‘cos we create our own reality, inside our minds and by interacting with the universe, because of quantum); the need for a “new paradigm;” the glorification of mystery over knowledge, and childlike wonder over skepticism; cool-sounding myths that are highly suspect (though not provably false), like the one about Native Caribbean people at first not being able to see Colombus’ ships on the ocean because they’d never seen ships like that before; cool-sounding myths that are provably false, like Transcendental Meditation reducing crime rates. And through it all, very complex topics like QM and cognitive science being either misrepresented or mangled into sweet-tasting sound bites to support these mystical beliefs.

I walked out of the theatre after about 45 minutes; I’d been checking my watch and rolling my eyes for… well, pretty much all of the movie up to that point, really, but the mention of Transcendental Meditation was the last straw.

So what was I supposed to get out of this movie? That the world is a strange and exciting place? Yes, it certainly is. But I already knew that, from reading legitimate science books. That we can be slaves to our own perceptions and assumptions? That it wouldn’t hurt to look at the world with wonder and fresh eyes from time to time? You won’t find me disagreeing. But I believe that movies like What The Bleep Do We Know? are more a distraction than anything else. One may watch it and feel suitably enlightened or at least pleasantly confused, but ultimately the movie offers no genuine substance. Instead it shows some seriously exciting science, hopelessly distorted into a colourful kaleidoscopic jumble that gives lay people only the illusion of understanding. Do you want to see the world and appreciate its beauty? Do you want to change your life, become more than who you are now? Then go out there and do it. You don’t need to waste your time with this vapid mystical fluff. The world is exciting enough without filling your head with other people’s fantasies. As the late, great, Douglas Adams wrote, “Isn’t it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?”