I want to focus on one reason why the graduates here are unique and special, and suggest a way that they might change the world. Your graduate has joined a tiny percentage of Americans who are scientifically literate. He or she has become part of that 2-3 percent of Americans who understand the process of science-how it works, how science is done and applied. Fewer than 10 million other adults in the U.S. know that. In fact, more than 197 million have little idea how science works at all. In just twenty years, those numbers will rise to 240 million illiterate and only 12.6 million literate in science. Worldwide, that will be over 5 billion, 400 million scientifically illiterate and a mere 285 million scientifically literate people, more or less, in the year 2020.

So what? Is it important that people be scientifically literate? You bet! The late Carl Sagan said it well in his 1996 book The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark. In that book, Carl said:

We've arranged a global civilization in which most critical elements profoundly depend on science and technology. We have also arranged things so that almost no one understands science and technology. This is a prescription for disaster.

Let me show you why. Americans are woefully inadequate both in their understanding of how science works and in their knowledge of basic scientific facts. The National Research Council (NRC) questioned a random sample of Americans with ten science questions. Let’s see how you do on that same quiz. This will be your last quiz. I’ll let you keep your own score, and I’ll give you only eight of the questions.

1. How long does it take Earth to go around the Sun? One day, week, month or year? Forty-seven percent knew it took a year. The other choices, however, did not add up to 100%, because some people (15 percent) thought that no answer was correct, because the Sun goes around the Earth!
2. The oxygen we breath comes from plants. Eighty-five percent agreed, and it’s right, and I have no idea how they knew that one.
3. All radioactivity is man-made. Seventy-two percent agreed but you know that’s wrong.
4. Humans lived with dinosaurs, and I don’t mean birds, I mean T. rex. Forty-eight percent of Americans agreed, and every single one of you graduates know it is wrong. Interestingly, that percentage is identical to what newspaper editors believe! And they control our news.
5. Cigarette smoking causes cancer Ninety-one percent agreed, and it is true, yet 30 percent still smoke! Why is this question answered so positively? Because it is an issue that has been in the press and on TV for years. Advertising works!
6. 6. Earth’s core is very hot. Seventy-eight percent agreed. As a geologist, I was especially happy about this, because I thought we must be doing a good job teaching about plate tectonics, convection, and Earth structure. I said so at a talk on this same literacy topic at UCLA to over 1,000 people. At the end, someone stood up and said, “Jere, you are so naive-the reason that so many people agree with that is because that is where they think Hell is!”

There were two short answer questions:

1. What is DNA? Almost any definition was acceptable. The NRC would accept answers like “the blueprint for life,” but only one out of five Americans were even that close. Every one of our graduates knows a much better answer for that question.
2. What is a molecule? Only nine percent could come even close to the right answer. I thought we learned that kind of stuff in grammar or high school!

So the scientific knowledge of our population is pathetic. Here we are, critically dependent in our daily lives on science, yet hardly anyone knows how it works. I'd point out that in the U.S. Congress, the rate is probably even lower. After all, most of them are lawyers. This general condition may well be at the root of numerous problems in the world.

Perhaps this illiteracy is the reason that so many people believe in paranormal and pseudoscientific claims, at their peril. For example, 60 percent of Americans believe that alien spacecraft visit Earth, and a large subset of those people believe the aliens are conducting sexual experiments on people or abducting them. While that is silly, why do we spend $29 billion per year on standard medicine and another almost equal amount ($27 billion) on alternative medicines that cannot be demonstrated scientifically to be effective? Why do people pay outrageous sums of money for weird solutions to their problems? Because they do not understand some very basic ways of dealing with the real world.

Let me give you an example of how it can work. Stephen Jay Gould, who all you graduating students know is a famous paleontologist and evolutionary biologist, was diagnosed with a severe kind of stomach cancer. He wrote about his experience, and I'd like to share just a little of that. He was shocked to learn that he had only eight months to live, or so it seemed initially. But he did not rush off for strange treatments across the border, rely solely on “positive thinking,” nor did he eat raw herbs from the forest. Instead, he realized that eight months is a median, and that he might well die at some time down the line other than eight months. He went to the Harvard Medical School Library and discovered that some people died in a matter of days, but that others lived for decades after diagnosis, for a median meant that half the people with the disease lived between 0 and 8 months and the other half lived longer than that. A few, he realized, must have lived quite long lives. He was determined to move himself into that group. He found out what those people did to live long-what therapies they took, what kinds of doctors they saw, what operations they had, and what kind of lives they led. He did all those things himself and entered into an experimental therapy that might increase the lifespan of victims. He is still alive almost two decades after his diagnosis, and fully expects to live to a ripe old age.

Let’s look at one of the issues in today’s newspapers: Violence in the media. We actually have scientific studies that show people are excited by such programs, but that only much less than 1 percent of the viewers might act violently as a result. But if that number is only 1 out of 100,000, that still means that we could have some 2,000 acts of violence as a result of a media event. Society needs to decide what level of violence it can tolerate, after it understands scientifically how and why fantasy violence in the media may promote actual violence.

And what about this or what about that scientific issue? There are many-deforestation, overfishing, gun distribution, pesticides, earthquake prediction, drug addiction, and many, many more facing us. Who can understand this stuff? Your graduates can, for the most part, because they belong to that very elite group of scientifically literate people.

Why aren’t more people literate and interested in science? After all, we spend somewhere near $3 billion per year in K-12 science education across this nation alone. To produce what? A population that is 98 percent scientifically illiterate. As Carl Sagan, Paul Ehrlich, and some of us up here have said, that is simply not good enough.

At some point people lose interest in science, and all of that money goes down the drain. While there are many reasons, the media is an obvious culprit. Look at the huge number of pseudoscientific programs on television, presented as documentaries, news, dramas, and sitcoms. One network recently showed the particularly antiscientific programs “Mysterious Origins of Man” and “Aliens Among Us,” and other such programs. Their alien program was presented as if it were a true scientific investigation, but it was not the news division that produced it, it was the entertainment division! Thus, truth is confused with fiction, reality with fantasy, and authorities with charlatans. And few people can tell the difference because they simply do not have the tools to do it.

Even the newspapers don’t get it right. Let me give you an example from my own experience. Some time ago, the National Science Foundation (NSF) decided to drill a hole through the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica to see what was under it. The Shelf is as big as Texas and may well be an important source of deep ocean water that could affect our climates. Half a dozen engineers and twelve scientists went to the drill site. But the engineers got the drill frozen three-quarters of the way through the ice and no one was able to sample at all. In spite of that, I was able to get some wetsuits down there in time to divert my team to do some exploration diving in McMurdo Sound. There we found a new kind of single-celled organism. The NSF, in its wisdom, decided to have a symposium about the results of the Ross Ice Shelf Project. Investigator after investigator stood up and said they had no results because the engineers got the drill stuck. But I stood up and told them about how we diverted and found a new species of protozoan. Big deal!

Two weeks later, the NSF public relations director called me up and said “I hear you discovered a new species of animal in Antarctica.” I said: “Well, it wasn’t an animal, it was a single-celled protozoan, and besides scientists find new species every day. It is not newsworthy.” He asked: “Is it good to eat?” I said “It’s a single cell-no one in their right mind would even think of eating one!” He continued: “Well, if you did eat it, what would it taste like?” Wearily, I said it had a shell made of sand, and so I suppose it would taste like sand. But, I warned, no one would ever want to eat one. His report went out over Reuters International, and a friend in Rhode Island sent me the clip from his local newspaper with his comment, “Did you really say this, Jere?” It said: “Professor Jere Lipps of the University of California found a new species of animal in Antarctica that is not good to eat because it tastes like sand!”

Be careful with the media, graduates! It’s usually a far cry from the way things really are, especially on TV. Be a skeptical reader and be a skeptical viewer!

The general public sees science as difficult, boring, and often useless. But let me show you a different view. Our graduates know this already.

All of you graduating students probably had Professor David Wake in class. What an enthusiast! I remember when I went in the field with him years ago on the north coast, and he yelled “Stop the van and follow me!” We ran fast to keep up, and I saw him fling himself down next to a rotten log, stick his arm under it, and pull out a yellow and black salamander. Boy, was he excited! He told us all about it-where it lived, what it ate, how it reproduced and why it was important. I gotta say, I didn’t quite get it, but I sure was impressed with his enthusiasm and love for that little salamander.

And our Chairman, Roy Caldwell-I've seen him standing in water up to his rear end down at Berkeley’s lab in Tahiti, smashing rocks all day long to find stomatopods. Those are a kind of snapping shrimp. After a week, he had ten or twelve that he watched for hours in the aquaria. Again, I didn’t exactly get it, but he sure was having fun! And Professor Marian Diamond rushed into my office once and proclaimed “You are so right-brained, Jere!” I really didn’t get that one (and I hope it’s a good thing), but I had seen her explaining her brain research with such enthusiasm and excitement so many times, that I just knew she had just had some wonderful insight while on her way downstairs, and she had to apply it right away to my very own brain.

Professor Tyrone Hayes, together with undergraduates and graduates, gets so excited about frog physiology and endocrinology, I've seen him barely able to talk. And he has so much fun with all of it. I could go on with all of them up here. And I know that while my colleagues may not exactly get why I go wandering off in the desert surrounded by cholla cactus to search in total happiness for fossilized microbes a billion years old that I can’t even see, they do indeed understand the excitement and contentment that I feel. Especially when I think I got it right!

These graduating students feel that too, or will when they find their niche. I've already seen it happen with those undergrads who've taken the IB 158 Moorea class. Those students walk differently when they come back from nine weeks in Tahiti. They started like puppy dogs, but ended up as apprentice scientists that had accomplished something. They thought they were going to paradise, but they ended up in a taro patch, under a bungalow, chasing down geckos through the coconut palms, or dissecting big, ugly parasites from fish caught far at sea. They discovered hard work, no sleep, mosquitoes galore, rats, getting up at 4 a.m. to catch the tide or the ferry to the next island so they could spend the day wading through stinking mangrove swamps, and then staying up until 2 a.m. to do a plankton tow in the rain. And helping each other do those things too. And they loved it! They come away from their science, not just with fading memories of a good time, but with a new life! They know the joy of discovery, the excitement of swimming with whales to observe their behavior, the thrill of solving a difficult problem, and the contentment of knowing they did it right and, especially, that they did it themselves.

You all know that scientists are really no different from other people-they have the full range of emotions: love, hate, envy, and some are the most honest people while others are deceitful. They are normal. But in one respect, scientists are different. Almost all of them really love their work. Contrast that with the 80 percent of Americans who hate their jobs!

Science is fun; science is creative; science is so satisfying. It’s a good life.

Scientific literacy provides far more than knowledge and a way to view the world. It provides enjoyment of life as well. So what is scientific literacy? It is basically three things mixed with an assortment of facts: It is critical thinking, evidential reasoning, and evaluation of authority plus whatever scientific facts you think are particularly important.

Critical thinking involves eight skills, the most important of which are to avoid emotional thinking, determine biases and assumptions, consider other interpretations, and, perhaps, the most important, tolerate uncertainty.

Evidential reasoning includes six rules. Any claim must be falsifiable in theory, the argument must be logical, it must be comprehensive, honest, and the evidence must be replicable. Most importantly here, it must be sufficient. In other words, extraordinary claims demand extraordinary evidence. Don't be fooled by the person who claims to have an alien in his garage when he shows you a blurry picture. Demand that he show you an arm, leg, head, or DNA from his alien, if it has any. Similarly, demand evidence from your doctor, auto repairman, insurance man, Realtor, teacher or whoever, that their claims are underpinned by sufficient evidence to support their claims.

Lastly, question authorities. Do the authorities practice critical thinking and evidential reasoning? If not, don’t believe them. Do they have the proper credentials? If not, don’t believe them. Do they have appropriate employment? If not, question them.

If you do these things, your lives will be happier, just like the people up here and the students down there, and your checkbook will be fuller. You will vote more wisely, you will decide more sensibly about your own lives, and you will live more comfortably with your surroundings. And especially, you will likely get and keep excellent jobs that you actually enjoy. Our graduates have a significant advantage over most other Americans because they are scientifically literate.

And I hope that at least a few of you graduates will take my words here to heart and think hard about how to improve scientific literacy in America. You have the tools to change our world, just like other past Berkeley graduates. Our nation deserves it, and you deserve it. Do not let Carl Sagan’s “prescription for disaster” come true! Change the world. You can do it.

References

• Ehrlich, P.R., and Ehrlich, A.H. 1996. Betrayal of Science and Reason: How Anti-Environmental Rhetoric Threatens Our Future. (Washington, D.C., Island Press).
• Eve, R.A., and Harrold, F.B. 1991. The Creationist Movement in Modern America. (Boston, Twayne Publishers).
• Gould, Stephen Jay. 1996. Full House. (New York, Harmony Books)
• Lederman, L.M. 1996. A strategy for saving science. Skeptical Inquirer 20: 23-28.
• Lett, J. 1990. A field guide to critical thinking. Skeptical Inquirer 14: 153-160.
• Lipps, J.H. 1999. Beyond Reason: Science in the Mass Media, p. 71-90, in J.W. Schopf (Ed.), Evolution! Facts and Fallacies. Academic Press, San Diego.
• Limbaugh, R. 1992. The Way Things Ought to Be. (New York, Pocket Books).
• Limbaugh, R. 1992. See I Told You So. (New York, Pocket Books).
• Marrs, J. 1997. Alien Agenda. (New York, HarperCollins Publishers).
• Miller, J.D. 1987. The scientifically illiterate. American Demographics 9:26-31.
• National Science Board. 1996a. Science and Engineering Indicators-1996. NSB 96-21. (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office. http://www.nsf.gov/sbe/srs/seind96/start.htm).
• National Science Board. 1996b. US Science and Engineering in a Changing World. NSB 96. (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office. http://www.nsf.gov/sbe/srs/seind96/start.htm).
• Perkins, R., Jr. 1995. Logic and Mr. Limbaugh. (Chicago, Open Court).
• Sagan, C. 1996. The Demon-Haunted World. (New York, NY: Random House).
• Shermer, M. 1997. Why People Believe Weird Things. (New York, NY: W. H. Freeman and Co.).
• Wade, C., and Tavris, C. 1990. Thinking critically and creatively. Skeptical Inquirer 14: 372-377.

After engaging in a bit of banter with Springer and boasting further of his psychic prowess, Mr. B approached the refrigerator. He asked “everybody to concentrate on the power of my eyes,” adding with braggadocio that provoked smirks and giggles from some members of the audience: “If you can see these eyes, they penetrate through you and I will now do the same thing with the refrigerator and then I will come back and read you people like a book. . . . This I promise you.”

As he began, he said: “It’s kind of weird, ladies and gentlemen, because I'm not getting a clear vision, but what I'm getting here is-I'm looking at-looks like some apples are in here.” Also he said there was what “looks like a cantaloupe.” (There was some more banter as Springer, who had begun writing a bold list of Mr. B’s pronouncements, admitted he was unsure how to spell the last word and wrote “c-a-n-t-e-l-o-p-e.”) Mr. B continued, stating that he could see what “looks like jewelry, so I'm looking at some carrots,” he said; “I would relate that to jewelry” (apparently making a pun on carats). He went on to say that he saw a carton of low-fat milk and jars of spaghetti sauce.

Then he stated: “Basically, the last thing I'm going to say-which is totally incredible-is, I'm looking at a skull which looks to be almost like a human head.” Springer responded by announcing (to applause), “If you’re right we've got another show!” And Mr. B made a punning quip that “[I]t’s also a good way to get ahead in this world,” adding, “Anyway, I do see something that looks like a human head.” When Springer suggested, “Maybe it’s a head of lettuce,” Mr. B replied: “It could be. And this is basically-at this moment this is all I'm able to pick out.”

Springer then unfastened the padlock, removed the chain, and opened the refrigerator. Reaching in and holding up each item in turn, to applause, he brought out “the milk, low fat, two percent,” next an apple, a honeydew melon (not a cantaloupe but “pretty close,” Springer noted), then a bunch of carrots. Impressively, he next extracted a grotesque novelty head! During the hubbub that followed he also discovered a jar of sauce. Displaying the head, Springer gushed to Mr. B, “I swear to God, unless the staff is lying to me, you really didn’t know what was in here!” He added: “This guy’s special.” After a commercial break he stated, “I have to tell you, I'm blown away. I'm very, very impressed!”

After Mr. B had done readings for the audience and after the other psychics had given dubious performances, I was brought on. My anger showed: unknown to the audience, backstage I had had an exchange with a producer; I had expressed my suspicions about the refrigerator test, and his response was what I interpreted as a guilty look. After Springer introduced me, I made a skeptical statement about the lack of evidence for psychic ability and disparaged the readings that had been given. (A later analysis showed a very poor score.)¹

I then suggested there was something odious about the “fridge” demonstration, to which Springer replied: “I have to tell you . . . I do not believe the staff would lie to me, but they swore to me that he did not know what was going to be put in there. That’s the only thing I can vouch for; I can’t vouch for anything else . . . but that I know, he did not know what was in that refrigerator.” Remaining unconvinced, I said, “That’s why I brought my own test,” explaining that in twenty years of investigation I had yet to discover anyone who could “reveal a simple three-letter word” under test conditions. Suiting action to words I produced a set of three envelopes (each containing such a target word) and a check for $1,000 which I offered as a reward for a successful demonstration.

The psychics were immediately defensive, claiming, among other things, that the TV studio did not represent test conditions. Springer seemed to shift from annoyance with me to delight at the sparks of conflict that had begun to fly. He pointed out to Mr. B that “You could tell us what was in the refrigerator, okay? With the studio lights and the live audience you could tell us what was in the refrigerator.” I added that, if it would help, I would draw a picture of a refrigerator on the front of the envelope! Mr. B did not appear to find that amusing but finally did attempt to divine the three target words. However, although he afterward rearranged letters and then words to produce a semblance of accuracy, in fact he failed completely, and during a break I tore up the check.

After the show I continued to be rankled over the suspicious demonstration, although I did appear on a later Springer episode (December 16, 1992) about guardian angels. Over subsequent years the show degenerated even further in quality as it soared in ratings. Episodes about cross-dressers and unfaithful lovers typically lapsed into on-camera brawls ("Springer” 1999). In 1998 as the fisticuffs and hair-pulling attacks proliferated, there were accusations that the fights were staged (Good Morning Sunday 1998). Indeed, former guests told Inside Edition (May 1, 1998) that Jerry Springer producers encouraged antagonism and promised combatants $100 per blow. Springer was dubbed “the ringmaster of TV’s best-watched circus” (Gray 1998). When ratings slipped from the top slot to a tie with Oprah, the magazine Broadcasting & Cable cited sources at the show who maintained the fights were even “turned up a notch” during the sweeps’ period ("Brawls continue” 1998).

Springer generally denied the charges, although he testified before the Chicago City Council (June 4, 1999): “Have we ever had a producer who made up a story or went over the line? I'm sure we have.” He responded to critics by saying he did not know what all the fuss was about, that his was only “a silly show” (Good Morning Sunday 1998). Certainly Jerry Springer has been no stranger to controversy. A one-time Cincinnati councilman, he left office after an FBI raid on a nightclub turned up a $25 check he had tendered for a “tryst with a prostitute” (Inside Edition 1998). (Undaunted, Springer went on to become mayor, then ran a failed campaign for governor before becoming a local TV anchor in the 1980s.)

In light of revelations that The Jerry Springer shows may have involved staged elements, I decided to reexamine the refrigerator-divination segment. First of all, recall that it was Springer himself who raised the prospect of fakery by using the phrase, “unless the staff is lying to me.” Obviously, the possibility had crossed his mind. Moreover, it would have been quite easy to rig Mr. B’s demonstration. All that would have been required would have been a few words relayed to the “psychic” before the show. Since producers invariably speak to guests prior to their appearing before the audience and cameras, this would have been easily accomplished.

In addition, as already indicated, a critical analysis of Mr. B’s audience readings and his failure in the envelope test indicate an utter lack of extrasensory ability. That alone raises questions about his fridge demonstration. So does his demeanor. He trivialized what was supposed to be a significant accomplishment by making silly puns about “carrots"/"carats” and “a head"/"ahead,” giving the distinct impression that he was doing nothing more than trying to entertain.

The most telling evidence, I think, comes from a careful analysis of what Mr. B claimed to “see” in the refrigerator, compared with what was actually inside it. If Mr. B did as Springer advertised (to “psychically look inside”) or as he himself claimed (to use the “power of my eyes,” eyes that “penetrate through” targets, etc.), he would be demonstrating a form of extrasensory perception (ESP) known as clairvoyance (from the French for “clear seeing”). More specifically, he would presumably be exhibiting a form known as “X-ray clairvoyance,” defined as “the ability to see through opaque objects such as envelopes, containers, and walls to perceive what lies within or beyond” (Guiley 1991)-hence the appropriateness of my envelope test.

If Mr. B indeed used X-ray clairvoyance, the resulting match of predicted items and actual objects in the refrigerator should be visually significant. On the other hand, if some other mechanism were employed (for example, information secretly imparted by a producer), the match might be only cognitive, consistent with a verbal communication.

That the latter is the case is shown repeatedly. For example, Mr. B’s first pronouncement is that “I'm looking at-looks like some apples are in here,” whereas, in fact, there is but a single apple, a visual non sequitur. Little can be made of the cantaloupe or the carrots, although the punning reference to “carats” works only verbally or cognitively-not visually.

The description of the next item, the milk, is telling. Whereas Mr. B specified a “carton” and gratuitously mentioned it “looks like it’s a little bit dented,” the actual article was visually quite unlike that description. It was instead a white plastic milk jug, with a handle. Mr. B’s statement that it “looks like some kind of skim milk or some kind of milk that’s not very high in calories” indicates confusion, that he may not have been quite sure of what was meant by “two percent,” the type of milk provided.

Then there were “jars of some kind of spaghetti sauce or-I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.” In fact, there was what Springer called “the sauce,” a single container, that looked like a jar of salsa. Once again, the match was a confused, cognitive one, not visually similar.

Finally there was the “skull which looks to be almost like a human head.” This was in fact not a skull at all, but a comically grotesque head with one bulging eye. Mr. B’s description indicates he did not know exactly what the object was, hence his agreement with Springer when the host suggested it might be “a head of lettuce.” Of course it looked nothing like that.

In addition to the visual inaccuracy of Mr. B’s alleged viewings, there is the fact that he missed some items: a large bottle of Canada Dry ginger ale (which stood beside the milk) and a bunch of bananas. If Mr. B was peering (psychically) into the refrigerator, he should have seen and named those items, but if he had been given a quick verbal list, it might have been incomplete or Mr. B might have only partially remembered it. Assuming the hypothesis that Mr. B was tipped off as to the refrigerator’s contents, we can almost reconstruct the wording of the list that would have been provided: “apple,” “melon,” “carrots,” “two-percent milk,” “sauce,” and “severed head.”

Of course, this is only one interpretation of the evidence. Mr. B might claim, for instance, that he was receiving information from spirits, who translated what they saw inside the fridge into verbal statements. Or there might be some other rationalization for the visual inaccuracy. For example, Mr. B’s guesses might have been only that. While such luck would seem phenomenal, all of the items in the refrigerator were rather common ones except for the head, and Mr. B might have thought of it for the same reason that a Springer producer probably did: contemporaneous news reports about serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer told how he had kept the severed head of one victim in his refrigerator (Ubelaker and Scammell 1992).² In any event the question is begged, why does the evidence not support what the “world’s greatest psychic” claimed to do? It would seem that the least likely interpretation of the results is that ESP was involved.

Acknowledgments

Thanks are due J. Porter Henry, Jr., of Cincinnati for generously transcribing the relevant portion of the Springer show and for providing a statistical analysis of the audience readings (see note).

Notes

1. Mr. B gave readings for three women, offering about a dozen assertions for each in a rambling style but scoring only one or two “hits” with each. Even those were dubious: for example, he told one woman, “I'm getting some sickness vibes with you, as if you had been in the hospital not too long ago, had been through something that came close to being an operation.” He also said he saw a brother. She credited him with success by switching the focus from herself, saying (to applause), “I've a brother who had an operation and I've been in his hospital lately.”
2. Dahmer’s grisly crimes came to light with his arrest on July 22, 1991; he was sentenced February 17, 1992 (see Croteau and Worcester 1993).

References

• Brawls continue on Jerry Springer show. 1998. Good News, September.
• Croteau, Maureen, and Wayne Worcester. 1993. The Essential Researcher. New York:
• HarperCollins, 106, 108. Good Morning Sunday. 1998. ABC television, April 26.
• Gray, Ellen. 1998. Here are television’s least fascinating people of 1998, The Buffalo News, December 28.
• Guiley, Rosemary Ellen. 1991. Harper’s Encyclopedia of Mystical & Paranormal Experience. New York: HarperCollins, 111-13.
• Springer offers little defense for show. 1999. The Buffalo News, January 3.
• Ubelaker, Dr. Douglas, and Henry Scammell. 1992. Bones: A Forensic Detective’s Casebook. New York: HarperCollins, 265.