When the American Physical Society held its meeting in Minneapolis March 20-24, 5,000 physicists presented the latest findings in areas like condensed matter physics, materials sciences, chemical physics, biological physics, fluid dynamics, polymer physics, and applied physics. The newsroom was abuzz about a chemist’s report of his incredible DNA nanotechnology devices and news of other nanotechnology advancements in the self-assembly of periodic matter.

But there was something even a little more unusual at this APS meeting. A CSICOP panel presented a special session on the problems of pseudoscience, titled “The Skeptical Inquirer on the New Paranatural Paradigm.” The interest was so great the session had to be moved to the convention center’s 700-seat ballroom.

CSICOP founder and chairman Paul Kurtz, professor emeritus of philosophy at the State University of New York at Buffalo, opened the session, addressing what he calls the emerging “paranatural paradigm.” This encompasses such ideas as beliefs in God, ghosts, angels and the design theory of “creation science"-none of which are a part of the natural world. But protagonists insist they have proof to substantiate their claims, so in response, Kurtz outlined how such life-after-death questions and “evidence” have been scrutinized for for more than 150 years-with no positive results. Beginning with the Fox sisters in 1848, all kinds of reports of apparitions, ghosts, rapping noises, table turnings, teleportation, levitation, and the summoning up of the dead at sŽances have been firmly laid to rest. All of these hoaxes were found to be nothing more remarkable or mysterious than the tapping of toe joints, feet, knees and other silly tricks.

In recent decades there has been a revival of interest in survival after death with reports of “channelers” (a new name for mediums) such as James Van Praagh, John Edwards, and Sylvia Browne who claim to communicate directly with the deceased. The mass media are saturated with uncritical psychic presentations, which have fueled a new revival of religion and spiritualism. Kurtz said independent corroboration is sorely lacking and all that remains are the eyewitness accounts, which have proven to be highly unreliable.

Science is advancing at an astonishing rate and yet much of the general populace, it appears, still chooses to abandon the natural in favor of the supernatural. Some of the terminology of the spiritualists has changed to satisfy current tastes, but the products remain the same. All of them, said Kurtz, seek to exploit the strong psychological denial that can often accompany the loss of a loved one.

Kurtz also reviewed recent claims made on behalf of near-death research. He said it was highly questionable that resuscitated patients meet discarnate persons on the other side. What is being described is the dying process; here naturalistic psychological and physiological causes more parsimoniously fit the data. Concluded Kurtz: “As far as we know, the death of the body entails the death of physiological functions, consciousness, and the personality, and there is no reason to believe that ghosts hover and communicate with us. I realize that this flies in the face of what the preponderance of humans wish to believe, but science should deal as best it can with what is the case, not with what we would like it to be.”

CSICOP’s veteran investigator Joe Nickell, sporting an alien patterned necktie, took the audience on a whirlwind joyride through the history of UFOlogy. He gave a quick run-down of “flying saucer” mythology, and he showed a frame from the infamous ”Alien Autopsy” film-introducing the fine specimen on the operating table as hailing “from the planet Latex.” Among other discrepancies in the film, a sign on the wall in the background dated from the 1960s (the film was supposedly made in 1947). From there he discussed claims of people who say they have had contact with or been abducted by aliens.

As crazy as such stories might seem, Nickell said few alien abduction reports appear to be hoaxes. Most seem instead to come from “sincere, sane individuals.” But after a pause he added that “not one has been authenticated, though” and he referred to paranormal explanations as “arguing from ignorance,” where the lack of an explanation gives rise to the need to invent one.

The incubus and the succubus were ancient Greek demons that used their evil powers to suck the life from people while they slept. These demons may well have been the precursors to today’s groping space aliens who are also reported to enjoy sneaking into our bedrooms at night. Past experience shows that some of these claims can in fact be the result of sleep-related phenomena (notably "waking dreams") and other psychological factors.

“As is typical of other mythologies, the alien myth involves supernormal beings that may interact with humans, and it purports to explain the workings of the universe and humanity’s place within it,” Nickell said. He ended with a reminder that these beliefs can be taken to a frightening level of absurdity, as seen in the Heaven’s Gate mass suicide. But he cautioned that strange reports should not be dismissed out of hand. “They should be examined.”

The old battle of science versus creationism still plagues the nation’s public schools. Eugenie C. Scott, Executive Director of the National Center for Science Education, identifies the latest antievolution movement to emerge: Intelligent Design Creationism (IDC). IDC is another version of William Paley’s 1801 “Argument from Design,” which would have us believe that the unique structure and complexity of nature could never have been possible simply by “chance” (a major misunderstanding of the process of evolution). Offering examples from cell biology and biochemistry, they insist that the universe must have an all-powerful designer.

Traditional antievolutionists such as the “Young Earth Creationists” (YECs) hold to a literal interpretation of the Bible: that the universe (including living things) was created in its present form and has not changed much since the “creation” that was written about in the Bible. To them, Earth is no more than 10,000 years old.

Unlike their YEC predecessors, the updated IDC’s most prominent advocates are academics associated with secular universities, such as lawyer Phillip Johnson of UC-Berkeley and biochemist Michael Behe of Lehigh University. The novelty seems to be that academic credentials and respectable titles are used in an attempt to proselytize with greater authority.

“Like the YECs, the IDCs stress alleged 'weaknesses’ in evolution more than positive evidence for their position and they propose that supernatural explanations substitute for and be labeled as science,” said Scott. Although the most prominent IDCs are based at secular universities, she said they produce little in the way of refereed academic articles, though great quantities of popular materials are disseminated informally. IDC books have made their way into science, philosophy of science, and other nonscience courses where students may be confused and misled into thinking that evolution is only another form of belief.

Scott said the main problem for the IDC’s is their failure to grasp the significance of selection in evolution. She advised that creationists wishing to claim any genuine scientific validation must first establish some way to test the predictions of creationism, and to do so by following the rules of science.

Physicist Victor J. Stenger is a well-published author on subjects relevant to the APS session (Physics and Psychics, The Unconscious Quantum). Long a professor of physics at University of Hawaii, Stenger concluded the session with an appropriate topic: Paraphysics: Physics Misused and Misinterpreted. Many physicists in the audience were eagerly waiting to hear one of their own address this issue.

Stenger showed examples of how quantum mechanics is often misinterpreted as implying the reality of extrasensory perception on the cosmic scale. Proponents of alternative medicine, for example, use the terms “energy” and “quantum” to suggest a scientific basis for “energy therapies” and mind-over-matter healing. Bio-energy field therapies such as therapeutic touch, acupuncture, and qigong are often justified with twisted arguments from quantum physics. In truth, he noted, there is no support for the notion that some “vital force,” or other form of energy exists separate from matter. Stenger said these ancient beliefs had long been disproved, stressing that in modern physics, matter and energy are the same thing and therefore could never connect everything in the universe instantaneously. Quantum fields do not represent a continuous medium, or “ether.” And no fields of any kind exist in theory or reality without particles, so continuous fields cannot exist.

“Mind and consciousness are not independent of matter. The brain is wired to the body, not to other bodies,” he said. Stenger had the audience chuckling several times, as he briefly touched on some of the wackier attempts to misuse physics by such people as Deepak Chopra, Joan Stafantos, and physicist Paul Davies. One member of the audience complained that it is impossible to totally disprove the energy field theory. Perhaps it is there, he said, but we have not yet been able to detect it. Stenger reminded him that an extraordinary burden of proof falls on those who advance any claim that implies the overthrow of well-established scientific principles.

As the conference adjourned, one question remained: How can skeptics and scientists work to improve the image of science for the general public? American Institute of Physics press coordinator Phillip Schewe said that skeptical inquiry can sometimes be too heavy-handed, resulting in a backlash of sympathy for psychics and pseudoscientists. But APS director of public affairs Robert Park, himself an active investigator of pseudoscience (his book Voodoo Science is reviewed in this issue), had this to say on the matter: “I try always to avoid ridicule of nonscientists who are taken in by pseudoscientists. I see the much greater problem as scientists who are too timid or too busy to explain to the public that they are being misled. When the public is fooled, I blame us. But as for the pseudoscientists themselves, I see no reason at all to spare their feelings.”

But some argue that certain pseudoscientists genuinely believe in what they are doing and are not intentionally committing fraud. What harm is there in humoring them? Park disagrees for this reason: “Pseudoscience after all is not merely bad science. It is an attempt to hijack the symbols and language of science for values that are not our values.” Park’s direct approach has resulted in the thorough debunking of such things as “Vitamin O” and “free energy.”

The excitement of scientific discovery-like that found at this APS convention-must become more accessible to non-scientists. Participants repeatedly called for requiring technical writing courses for all graduate science students, and for more serious attention to the presentation of refereed articles. If scientists have trouble packaging information aimed at their peers, how can the public ever be expected to muddle through it? The University of Maryland is currently instituting a program of Science Communication for science graduate students. Lui Lam, professor of physics at San Jose State University, suggested the integration of popular science books into non-major physics courses to make the learning process more interesting and thus, sustainable for them. Several attendees praised Carl Sagan as a rare example of how the wonders of nature really can be presented in such a way as to compete successfully with the occult.

The findings of the CSICOP panel strongly indicate that, until further notice, there simply is no plausible evidence of extraterrestrial visitors, or of ghosts who intervene in our affairs, or of gods who might have designed the universe. The new cast of wizards and shamans have merely relabeled the previous, tired old routines: mediums are now called “channelers"; the incubus is now a highly intelligent alien with mystifying technology; preachers now wish to be called scientists; and the bio-energetic force field has replaced the ether of Vitalism. But, amidst all of the charlatans and the persistent media hype that is lavished upon them, we may all reasonably rest assured that the same fundamental laws of physics still apply-to everyone.

Related Information

• Paul Kurtz’s home page
• Victor Stenger’s home page

Pick up a textbook on abnormal psychology and in the first chapter you are likely to find a discussion of the dance manias. Also known as St. Vitus’s dance, between the eleventh and seventeenth centuries, manias swept across Europe as tens of thousands of people participated in frenzied public orgies and wild dances lasting for days and sometimes weeks. It is little wonder why psychiatrists and medical historians classify such episodes as group mental disorder affecting those overwhelmed by the stresses of the period. During outbreaks many immodestly tore off their clothing and pranced naked through the streets. Some screamed and beckoned to be tossed into the air; others danced furiously in what observers described as strange, colorful attire. A few reportedly laughed or weeped to the point of death. Women howled and made obscene gestures while others squealed like animals. Some rolled themselves in the dirt or relished being struck on the soles of their feet. An Italian variant was known as tarantism, as victims were believed to have been bitten by the tarantula spider, for which the only cure was thought to be frenetic dancing to certain music which supposedly dissipated the “poison” from their blood (Hecker 1844; Rosen 1968; Sirois 1982).

The term “dancing mania” is derived from the Greek word choros, a dance, and mania, madness. The literal translation of choros mania is dancing madness. The name was adopted after a group of about 200 people danced so spiritedly on a bridge above the Maas River in Germany during 1278 that it collapsed, killing many participants. Survivors were treated in a nearby chapel dedicated to St. Vitus, and many were reportedly restored to full health. Prior to the twentieth century it was commonly referred to as epidemic chorea or choreomania. The word chorea was erroneously evoked to describe these behaviors, as participants were often thought to be exhibiting symptoms of chorea, a central nervous system disorder characterized by brief irregular jerking movements which can resemble dancing.

The terms tarantism and dancing mania are often used interchangeably as they share overlapping features. Tarantism was mainly confined to southern Italy. Gloyne (1950, 29) describes it as the “mass hysterical reaction” to perceived bites of the tarantula spider. The first recorded episodes appeared during the thirteenth century and persisted on a widespread scale in southern Europe for 400 years, reaching a peak in the seventeenth century, after which it virtually disappeared. Small annual episodes have persisted in southern Italy well into the twentieth century. Hans Schadewaldt (1971) investigated an outbreak in Wardo during 1957. Italian religious history professor Ernesto de Martino (1966) identifies thirty-five cases of tarantism near Galatina in 1959. De Martino conducted his survey between June 28 and 30, as June 29 is the festival day of St. Peter and St. Paul. On that day it is customary for the “victims” to travel from regional villages to the chapel of St. Paul to obtain a cure for various ailments. More recently, it has been observed near Sardinia, Italy (Gallini 1988).

Medieval tarantism was reported almost exclusively during the height of the hot, dry summer months of July and August:

People, asleep or awake, would suddenly jump up, feeling an acute pain like the sting of a bee. Some saw the spider, others did not, but they knew that it must be the tarantula. They ran out of the house into the street, to the market place dancing in great excitement. Soon they were joined by others who like them had just been bitten, or by people who had been stung in previous years, for the disease was never quite cured. The poison remained in the body and was reactivated every year by the heat of summer. . . .

. . . Music and dancing were the only effective remedies, and people were known to have died within an hour or in a few days because music was not available (Sigerist 1943, 218-219).

Symptoms included headache, giddiness, breathlessness, fainting, trembling, twitching, appetite loss, general soreness, and delusions. Sometimes it was claimed that a sore or swelling was caused by a tarantula bite, but such assertions were difficult to verify because the bite resembled those of insects. The dance frenzy symptoms resemble typical modern episodes of epidemic hysteria, in addition to expected reactions from exhaustive physical activity and excessive alcohol consumption.

Psychiatrists classify tarantism as a form of epidemic hysteria due to its psychological character and claims that most of those affected were females (Sigerist 1943, 218; Rosen 1968, 204). Early medical observers theorized that a venomous species of tarantula found only near the Italian state of Apulia was capable of producing sporadic tarantism symptoms each summer, but tests on spiders of the region have failed to substantiate these suspicions (Gloyne 1950, 35). Latrodectus tarantula is a nonaggressive, slow-moving spider common in Apulia that can produce psychoactive effects in people it bites. In severe cases, it may temporarily mimic many tarantism symptoms, including twitching and shaking of limbs, weakness, nausea, and muscular pain (Lewis 1991, 514). Ironically, Lycosa tarantula was typically blamed for tarantism symptoms, as it is larger, more aggressive, ferocious in appearance and has a painful bite. Yet neither spider can account for the predominantly symbolic and psychogenic character of tarantism attacks. Latrodectus tarantula is also found in other countries where tarantism does not occur (Russell 1979, 416), including the United States (Lewis 1991, 517). There is no evidence that a venomous species of tarantula, native only to Apulia, may have existed during this period and later died out. As Sigerist (1943, 221) remarks: “The same tarantula shipped to other parts of the country seemed to lose most of its venom, and what remained acted differently.” It is also doubtful that some insect or other agent was responsible for causing “attacks,” as most participants did not even claim to have been bitten, and would only participate in tarantism episodes at designated times.

Clearly most cases were unrelated to spider bites. Other psychological aspects include the only reliable cure: dancing to certain types of music. “Victims” would typically perform one of numerous versions of the tarantella, a rapid tempo score characterized by brief, repetitive phrases which escalate in intensity. Such performances also allowed “victims” to exhibit social behavior that is prohibited at any other time. Dancing persisted intermittently for hours and days, sometimes lasting weeks. Participants would eventually proclaim themselves “cured” for the remainder of the summer, only to relapse in subsequent summers. Many “victims” believed they had been infected from those who had been bitten, or from simply brushing against a spider. All that was needed to “reactivate” the venom was to hear the strains of certain music being played to cure those who had already been bitten.

Dancing Manias

A variation of tarantism spread throughout much of Europe between the thirteenth and seventeenth centuries, where it was known as the dancing mania or St. Vitus’s dance, on account that participants often ended their processions in the vicinity of chapels and shrines dedicated to this saint. Like its Italian counterpart, outbreaks seized groups of people who engaged in frenzied dancing that lasted intermittently for days or weeks. Social scientists typify victims as females who were maladjusted, deviant, irrational, or mentally disturbed. These activities were typically accompanied by symptoms similar to tarantism, including screaming, hallucinations, convulsive movements, chest pains, hyperventilation, crude sexual gestures and outright intercourse. Instead of spider bites as the cause, participants usually claimed that they were possessed by demons who had induced an uncontrollable urge to dance. Like tarantism, however, music was typically played during episodes and was considered to be an effective remedy. Detailed accounts of many episodes appear in a classic book by German physician Justus Hecker, Epidemics of the Middle Ages (1844). He considered the origin of these “epidemics” as due to “morbid sympathy” since they often coincided with periods of severe disease, such as widespread pessimism and despair after the Black Death (Hecker 1844, 87). This epic disease plague, which by some estimates killed half of the population of Europe, subsided about twenty years prior to 1374, the year that most scholars identify with the onset of the dance mania. Benjamin Gordon, in Medieval and Renaissance Medicine (1959, 562) describes the onset of the dance mania:

From Italy it spread to . . . Prussia, and one morning, without warning, the streets were filled. . . . They danced together, ceaselessly, for hours or days, and in wild delirium, the dancers collapsed and fell to the ground exhausted, groaning and sighing as if in the agonies of death. When recuperated, they swathed themselves tightly with cloth around their waists and resumed their convulsive movements. They contorted their bodies, writhing, screaming and jumping in a mad frenzy. One by one they fell from exhaustion. . . .

. . . Many later claimed that they had seen the walls of heaven split open and that Jesus and the Virgin Mary had appeared before them.

As with tarantism, dance manias are considered to have occurred spontaneously, with participants unable to control their actions, and being exhibited primarily by mentally disturbed females. Influential New York University psychiatrists Harold Kaplan and Benjamin Sadock (1985, 1227) state that they represent “collective mental disorder”; Carson et al. (1998, 37) view St. Vitus’s dance and tarantism as collective hysterical disorders; while abnormal psychologist Ronald Comer of Princeton University uses the term “mass madness” (1996, 9).

Let us examine these claims based on several dozen period chronicles translated by E. Louis Backman (1952) in his seminal study of religious dances. Few if any modern textbooks on psychiatry and abnormal psychology cite these early chronicles. Instead they rely on a handful of often-cited influential medical historians of the early twentieth century, using their assessments and well-worn quotations. Medical historians such as Henry Sigerist, George Mora, and George Rosen were giants in their field and astute enough acknowledge Greek or Roman ritualistic elements in the dance manias, but each assumes that the participants used these rites to work themselves into frenzied states of physical and mental disturbance in order to experience cathartic reactions to intolerable social conditions. They also assume that most participants were hysterics.

Mora (1963, 436-438) writes that tarantism and dance manias used rituals as psychotherapeutic attempts to cope with either individual or societal maladjustments which fostered mental disturbances. Sigerist held a similar view. An abnormal psychology text written by Robert Carson of Duke University and his colleagues (1998, 37) cites Sigerist to support the view that St. Vitus’s dance and tarantism were similar to ancient Greek orgiastic rites which had been outlawed by Christian authorities, but were secretly practiced anyway. The authors assume that these “secret gatherings . . . probably led to considerable guilt and conflict” which triggered collective hysterical disorders. Dance frenzies appeared most often during periods of crop failures, famine, epidemics, and social upheaval, leading Rosen (1968) to conclude that this stress triggered widespread hysteria. Yet these same disasters prompted attempts at divine intervention through ritualized dancing, and often produced trance and possession states. Consistent with this latter view, many symptoms associated with tarantism and dancing mania are consistent with sleep deprivation, excessive alcohol consumption, emotional excitement and vigorous, prolonged physical activity. A German chronicle reports that during a dance frenzy at Strasbourg in 1418, “many of them went without food for days and nights” (Rust 1969, 20).

The European “dancing manias” and its Italian variant tarantism are portrayed within the psychiatric literature as spontaneous, stress-induced outbursts of psychological disturbance that primarily affected females. This depiction is based on the selective use of period quotations by medical historians such as George Rosen and Henry Sigerist, who were reflecting popular stereotypes of female susceptibility to mental disorders. However, based on a series of translations of medieval European chronicles describing these events, many of them first-hand, and by scrutinizing other historical sources which provide a degree of social, cultural, historical and political perspective, it is evident that contemporary depictions of “dancing manias” have been misrepresented. Contrary to popular psychiatric portrayals, females were not overrepresented among participants, episodes were not spontaneous but highly structured, and they involved unfamiliar religious sects engaging in strange or foreign customs that were redefined as a behavioral abnormality (Bartholomew 1998). Let us examine the evidence.

Fallacy #1: Most “Dancers” Were Crazy

Period chronicles reveal that most participants did not reside in the municipalities where they occurred, but hailed from other regions, traveling through communities as they sought out shrines and churchyards to perform in. As a result, they would naturally have had unfamiliar customs. The largest and best documented dance plague, that of 1374 involving throngs of “dancers” in Germany and Holland, were “pilgrims” who traveled, “according to Beka’s chronicle, from Bohemia, but also from Hungary, Poland, Carinthia, Austria, and Germany. Great hosts from the Netherlands and France joined them” (Backman 1952, 331).

The behavior of these dancers was described as strange, because while exhibiting actions that were part of the Christian tradition, and paying homage to Jesus, Mary, and various saints at chapels and shrines, other elements were foreign. Radulphus de Rivo’s chronicle Decani Tongrensis states that “in their songs they uttered the names of devils never before heard of . . . this strange sect.” Petrus de Herenthal writes in Vita Gregorii XI: “There came to Aachen . . . a curious sect.” The Chronicon Belgicum Magnum describes the participants as “a sect of dancers.” The actions of dancers were often depicted as immoral, as there was much uninhibited sexual intercourse. The chronicle of C. Browerus (Abtiquitatum et Annalium Trevirensium) states: “They indulged in disgraceful immodesty, for many women, during this shameless dance and mock-bridal singing, bared their bosoms, while others of their own accord offered their virtue.” In A Chronicle of Early Roman Kings and Emperors, it states that a number of participants engaged in “loose living with the women and young girls who shamelessly wandered about in remote places under the cover of night.” If most of the participants were pilgrims of Bohemian and Czech origin as Backman asserts, during this period Czechs and Bohemians were noted for a high incidence of perceived immorality, especially sexual, including prostitution and annual festivals involving the free partaking of sex (Backman 1952, 290).

Fallacy #2: There Was a Spontaneous, Uncontrollable Urge to Dance

Period chronicles reveal that dance manias were mainly composed of pilgrims engaging in emotionally charged, highly structured displays of worship that occasionally attracted locals. This social patterning is evident in a first-hand account on September 11, 1374, by Jean d'Outremeuse in his chronicle La Geste de Liege, who states that “there came from the north to Liege . . . a company of persons who all danced continually. They were linked with clothes, and they jumped and leaped. . . . They called loudly on St. John the Baptist and fiercely clapped their hands.” Slichtenhorst (cited in Backman 1952, 210), in describing the dance frenzy of 1375 and 1376 in France, Germany, and Gelderland (now southwestern Holland), notes that participants “went in couples, and with every couple was another single person . . . they danced, leaped and sang, and embraced each other in friendly fashion.”

A similar pattern is evident in tarantism. While taranti (as victims were known) are typically described as participating in uncontrollable behaviors in chaotic, frenzied throngs, adherents worshiped in a set pattern, much like modern-day ecstatic religious sects. Australian medical historian and tarantism expert Jean Russell states that taranti would typically commence dancing at sunrise, stop during midday to sleep and sweat, then bathe before the resumption of dancing until evening, when they would again sleep and sweat, consume a light meal, then sleep until sunrise. This ritual was usually repeated over four or five days, and sometimes for weeks (Russell 1979, 413).

Clearly tarantism episodes were not spontaneous, and the same is true of dance manias. German magistrates even contracted musicians to play for participants and serve as dancing companions. The latter was intended to reduce injuries and mischief during the procession to the St. Vitus chapel (Hecker 1970 [1837], 4). Hecker states that the dancing mania was a “half-heathen, half-Christian festival” which incorporated into the festival of St. John’s day as early as the fourth century, “the kindling of the 'Nodfyr,' which was forbidden them by St. Boniface.” This ritual involved the leaping through smoke or flames, which was believed to protect participants from various diseases over the ensuing year. A central feature of the dance frenzy was leaping or jumping continuously for up to several hours through what they claimed were invisible fires, until collapsing in exhaustion.

Not only were episodes scripted, but dance processions were swollen by spectators (Hecker 1970 [1837], 4), including children searching for parents who were among the dancers, and vice versa (Haggard 1934, 187). Some onlookers were threatened with harm for refusing to dance (Backman 1952, 147). Many took part out of loneliness and carnal pleasures; others were curious or sought exhilaration (Rust 1969, 22). Hecker remarks that “numerous beggars, stimulated by vice and misery, availed themselves of this new complaint to gain a temporary livelihood,” while gangs of vagabonds imitated the dance, roving “from place to place seeking maintenance and adventures.” Similar observations have been noted of tarantism episodes.

Fallacy #3: Most “Dancers” Were Hysterical Females

A revisiting of the descriptions of dancing manias based on early chronicles of these events shows that both men and women were equally affected. Where the gender of the participants was noted, the following comments are representative: Petrus de Herenthal’s chronicle Vita Gregorii XI remarks that “Persons of both sexes . . . danced"; Radulpho de Rivo’s Decani Tongrensis states, “persons of both sexes, possessed by devils and half naked, set wreathes on their heads, and began their dances"; Johannes de Beka’s Canonicus Ultrajectinus et Heda, Wilhelmus, Praepositus Arnhemensis: De Episcopis Ultraiectinis, Recogniti, states that in 1385, “there spread along the Rhine . . . a strange plague . . . whereby persons of both sexes, in great crowds . . . danced and sang, both inside and outside of churches, till they were so weary that they fell to the ground"; according to Koelhoff’s Chronicle published in 1499, “Many people, men and women, old and young, had the disease [of dancing mania]"; Casper Hedion in Ein Ausserlessne Chronik von Anfang der Welt bis auff das iar nach Christi unsers Eynigen Heylands Gepurt M.D. writes that in 1374 “a terrible disease, called St. John’s dance . . . attacked many women and girls, men and boys"; A. Slichtenhorst’s Gelsersee Geschiedenissen states that “men and women were smitten by the fantastic frenzy.” This gender mixture is also reflected in more recent tarantism reports such as episodes in the vicinity of Sardinia, Italy, studied by Gallini (1988) which found that the vast majority of “victims” were male, while de Martino (1966) reported that most participants that he investigated near Apulia were female.

What Caused the Dancing Manias?

Ergot poisoning (pronounced “er-get”) has been blamed for hallucinations and convulsions accompanying the dance mania. Nicknamed St. Anthony’s Fire, ergotism coincided with floods and wet growing seasons which fostered the growth of the fungus claviceps purpura which thrives in damp conditions and forms on cultivated grains, especially rye. While this could account for some symptoms, many outbreaks did not coincide with floods or wet growing or harvest periods. Convulsive ergotism could cause bizarre behavior and hallucinations, but chronic ergotism was more common and typically resulted in the loss of fingers and toes from gangrene, a feature that is distinctly not associated with dance manias (Donaldson et al. 1997, 203). As for tarantism, most episodes occurred only during July and August and were triggered by real or imaginary spider bites, hearing music, or seeing others dance, and involved structured annual rituals. Also, while rye was a key crop in central and northern Europe, it was uncommon in Italy. Surely a few participants were hysterics, epileptics, mentally disturbed, or even delusional from ergot, but the large percentage of the populations affected, and the circumstances and timing of outbreaks, suggests otherwise. Episodes were pandemic, meaning that they occurred across a wide area and affected a very high proportion of the population (Lidz 1963, 822; Millon and Millon 1974, 22).

So what is the most likely explanation for dance manias? Based on an examination of a representative sample of medieval chronicles, it is evident that these episodes are best explained as deviant religious sects who gained adherents as they made pilgrimages through Europe during years of turmoil in order to receive divine favor. Their symptoms (visions, fainting, tremor) are predictable for any large population engaging in prolonged dancing, emotional worship, and fasting. Their actions have been “mistranslated” by contemporary scholars evaluating the participants’ behaviors per se, removed from their regional context and meaning. Tarantism was a regional variant of dancing mania that developed into a local tradition, primarily in southern Italy.

In reviewing the dance frenzies, it is important to consult original sources and realize that we are all to some extent products of our social, cultural, and historical milieu. When assessing the normality of a particular act, it is vital not to focus solely on the behaviors per se, but on the context of the participants and those making the evaluations. It is not that these prominent historians were trying to deceive, but their social and cultural milieu was different from our own. They had different assumptions and worldviews, and were writing at a time when it was taken for granted that women were innately susceptible to hysteria and were both physically and emotionally frail (Smith-Rosenberg 1972; Ehrenreich and English 1978; Micale 1995). This situation affected their selective readings of medieval chronicles despite their scholarly backgrounds and evidence to the contrary in the very texts they translated.

That a person’s milieu affects their scholarship is not surprising. Of concern is the persistence of several fallacies about dance manias into the last decade of the twentieth century, and the reliance on secondary sources by the authors of many textbooks on abnormal psychology and psychiatry. In their defense, unless they are specialists in medieval manuscripts, most of these authors would lack the time or resources to consult original, obscure texts. This underlines the importance of consulting original sources whenever possible, and not relying solely on the interpretation of others.

Scientific progress and understanding is achieved by standing on the shoulders of giants. But occasionally those shoulders unwittingly face in the wrong direction. It is time to correct that mistake. One cannot help wondering how many more “facts” of today are based on the prejudices of yesterday, and will eventually be exposed by revisiting original sources as the fallacies of tomorrow.

References

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2. Backman, E.L. 1952. Religious Dances in the Christian Church and in Popular Medicine (Translated by E. Classer). London: Allen and Unwin.
3. Bartholomew, R.E. 1998. Dancing with myths: The misogynist construction of dancing mania. Feminism & Psychology 8(2):173-183.
4. Carson, R.C., J.N. Butcher, and S. Mineka. 1998. Abnormal Psychology and Modern Life (tenth edition, 1998 update). New York: HarperCollins.
5. Comer, R.J. 1996. Fundamentals of Abnormal Psychology. New York: W.H. Freeman and Company.
6. de Martino, E. 1966. La Terre du Remords (The Land of Self-Affliction) [translated from Italian by Claude Poncet]. Paris: Gallimard.
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It is nothing new to find enterprising entrepreneurs seeking to profit from their novel inventions, which are often claimed to produce miraculous results for their users. The field of mental health is no exception. In fact, there has recently been a surge of putatively revolutionary treatments for various psychological problems that claim to be far superior to standard treatments in both effectiveness and efficiency. Known as “power” or “energy” therapies (Gist, Woodall, and Magenheimer 1999; Herbert et al. in press; Swenson 1999), these treatments are gaining widespread acceptance among mental health practitioners, despite their frankly bizarre theories and techniques, extraordinary claims, and absence of scientific support. One of the most popular of these power therapies, known as Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), involves a therapist waving his or her fingers in front of the patient’s eyes while the client imagines various disturbing scenes that are thought to be related to the patient’s problems. In fact, EMDR, a “power therapy” that alludes to neural networks instead of energy fields for its theoretical basis, has been described as a prototypical case of pseudoscience within mental health (Herbert et al. in press; Lohr, Montgomery, Lilienfeld, and Tolin 1999; Lilienfeld 1996).

There is another treatment approach on the rise that threatens to overtake EMDR as the premiere power therapy for the twenty-first century: Thought Field Therapy (TFT; Callahan 1985). Roger Callahan, TFT’s inventor, claims that he can train therapists to be over 97% effective using his “revolutionary” procedures in treating a variety of common psychological problems including anxiety and depression. Since the history of psychotherapy is replete with treatments that failed to live up to their initial hype, it seems prudent to take a closer look at TFT.

Origins and Methods

Callahan (1997) states that he accidentally discovered TFT while treating a client named Mary, who had a severe fear of water. Inspired by an acupuncture class he was taking at the time, Callahan instructed Mary to firmly tap the area under her eye with her fingers, leading to a miraculous and immediate resolution of Mary’s phobia. Callahan subsequently developed the comprehensive set of techniques and theory that is now known as TFT. The therapy is based on the idea that invisible energy fields called “thought fields” exist within the body (Callahan and Callahan 1997). Environmental traumas and inherited predispositions are theorized to cause blockages, or what Callahan terms “perturbations,” in the flow of energy in these thought fields. Callahan theorizes that the commonly observed neurochemical, behavioral, and cognitive indicators of disorders such as depression are the result of these perturbations. In other words, the root cause of all psychological problems are blockages in energy fields.

In order to correct these perturbations, clients are directed by the TFT therapist to tap on the body’s “energy meridians” in specific sequences, called “algorithms,” which vary based on the particular problem being treated (Callahan and Callahan 1997). For example, the client may be instructed to tap at the corner of the eyebrow five times and then continue tapping on other parts of the body in a specific sequence as instructed by the therapist. In addition, the clients are told to roll their eyes, count, and hum a few bars of a song at various points during the treatment. Callahan states that when the thought field is “attuned,” that is, when the person is thinking about the distressing event or image, perturbations are able to be located and corrected. The tapping is theorized to add energy to the system, which then re-balances the overall energy flow, thereby eliminating the distress at the source.

Theoretical Underpinnings

The theory behind TFT is a hodgepodge of concepts derived from a variety of sources. Foremost among these is the ancient Chinese philosophy of chi, which is thought to be the “life force” that flows throughout the body. Beyerstein and Sampson (1996) argue that chi is more accurately conceptualized as a philosophy, not a science, and its existence is not empirically supported. In addition, they note that while acupuncture, a procedure used to correct the flow of chi, has been shown to provide some minor analgesic effects, its utility has not been demonstrated for treating illnesses or diseases. TFT also borrows techniques from a procedure known as Applied Kinesiology that is used to test muscles for “weaknesses” caused by certain food or chemical pathogens (Sampson and Beyerstein 1996). Applied Kinesiology is a scientifically discredited procedure. For example, Kenny, Clemens, and Forsythe (1988) found that those using the techniques did no better than chance in determining nutritional status using muscle testing. Finally, TFT even borrows some of its concepts from quantum physics. For instance, the idea of active information, in which small amounts of energy can affect large systems, is used to support the existence of perturbations (Bohm and Hiley 1993). There are obvious problems with the theoretical basis for TFT, not the least of which is the complete lack of scientific evidence for the existence of “thought fields.”

TFT, as with other new “energy” therapies, is based on misconceptions or outright distortions of the concept of energy as it is used by scientists (Saravi 1999). In physics, energy is defined simply as the capacity to do work, and energy exchanges are observable and measurable. Energy therapists, in contrast, use the term to describe a kind of universal life force that influences health, but they provide no direct data to document the presence of such a force. Saravi concludes that “New Agers’ and psychobabblers’ 'energy' has only a remote relationship with its physical, scientific counterpart. For them, it is just a word conveniently invoked to explain phenomena whose very existence is far from certain” (47).

Extraordinary Claims of Success

TFT is marketed primarily through the Internet. To attract potential therapists to take TFT courses and to persuade prospective clients to pay for this therapeutic approach, amazing claims are presented on several TFT-related Web sites. For example, Callahan’s primary Web site¹ claims that TFT allows individuals “to eliminate most negative emotions within minutes.” In addition, Callahan asserts that TFT’s effectiveness increases with higher levels of training. For example, another Web site² publicizes that therapists can achieve an 80 percent effectiveness rate from learning to use specific algorithms, a 90-95 percent effectiveness rate from using "Causal Diagnostic” techniques, and an over 97 percent effectiveness rate using a technique mysteriously termed “Voice Technology.” Yet another Web site,³ this one based in the United Kingdom, states that TFT is the only psychotherapy that can “genuinely claim to offer a cure.” TFT claims to be able to “cure” people of a variety of psychological problems, including phobias, panic, post-traumatic stress disorder, addictions, sexual problems, pain, depression, anger, general distress, and even other less serious problems such as fingernail biting (Hooke 1998a). One noted TFT therapist even claims to have cured her dog of a fear of heights using the trauma algorithm (Danzig 1998).

Despite these miraculous assertions, no controlled studies have been published in peer-reviewed scientific journals to provide evidence for TFT’s claims. Instead, testimonials and uncontrolled case studies are offered to support these astonishing declarations of success (Callahan 1995). The vast majority of these claims are made via Internet postings (Lohr, Montgomery, et al. 1999). Such anecdotes, however, do not constitute probative data on the question of TFT’s efficacy. Callahan often claims that his public demonstrations of TFT on television shows such as The Leeza Gibbons Show (aired October 12, 1996) provide dramatic proof of success, thereby circumventing the need for empirical research. However, such vivid but uncontrolled presentations are not evidential, given the extraordinary demand characteristics (i.e., the implicit pressures engendered by the situation for clients to behave in accordance with their beliefs about what is expected of them) inherent in such settings, not to mention the lack of objective, standardized assessments of improvement in symptoms (Hooke 1998b). Given that Callahan claims to have been using his techniques for over twenty years, it is curious why no controlled studies have been conducted. It should be quite easy to demonstrate the effects of a treatment with a 97 percent effectiveness rate using accepted methods of clinical science.

The Limited Research Findings

TFT has recently attracted the attention of two Florida State University researchers. In considering their work, it is important to note that none of their findings have been published in peer-reviewed journals; instead they report their results in one of the researcher’s self-published Internet “journal.” Carbonell and Figley (1999) tested four controversial treatments for trauma, including TFT. Thirty-nine individuals who reported distress from having experienced a traumatic event were given one of the four treatments for up to one week. Overall, Carbonell and Figley reported that participants demonstrated some improvement in self-rated distress and on questionnaire measures from pre-treatment to six-month follow-up. This study is so seriously flawed, however, that the results are completely uninterpretable. The most critical flaw is the absence of any control for the passage of time. In the absence of a no-treatment or a placebo control group, there is no way to know if any observed improvement was a function of factors such as the natural remission of symptoms over time, statistical regression to the mean (i.e., the tendency for extreme scores on a measure to be less extreme upon retest), or placebo effects. This concern is heightened by the absence of measures taken immediately following treatment, as the only outcome measures were reported six months following treatment. Also, subjects were not diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder using standard diagnostic criteria, and it is not clear how much subjects were impaired by their traumatic experiences. Moreover, daily diaries and recordings of distress revealed that subjects appeared to have difficulty distinguishing distress associated with the normal ups and downs of life from distress associated with their trauma. For example, a participant who had suffered childhood abuse reported high distress, but upon query disclosed that this distress was due to her car getting a flat tire rather than her trauma, raising questions about the reliability of these subjective distress ratings (Huber 1997).

Furthermore, the authors did not report subjecting their data to statistical analysis, instead relying on their visual inspection of the data for interpretation. Interestingly, even these data do not support the large effect sizes claimed by TFT supporters. On the contrary, mean scores on the self-report questionnaires showed only relatively paltry changes in symptoms, far below the claims of miraculous improvement that Callahan and others have consistently claimed. Thus, Carbonell and Figley’s (1999) study, which is the most serious research attempt to date, does not support the effectiveness of TFT. Nevertheless, the results of this study, originally presented at a 1995 symposium, are frequently cited by Callahan and others as providing evidence of TFT’s efficacy (Callahan and Callahan 1997). The only other “research” on TFT is either presented in internally circulated publications such as Callahan’s newsletter The Thought Field, nonscientific magazine reports (e.g., Shamis 1996), or on Web sites (e.g., Carbonell 1996; see Swenson 1999 for a review).

Alternate Explanations

Occam’s Razor is a principle often applied in science indicating that, all things being equal, the most parsimonious explanation for a phenomenon is the preferred one. Applying this principle to TFT, there is little need for concepts such as energy fields and perturbations to explain any effects that TFT might show. TFT highlights specific tapping sequences as its proposed mechanism of action; however, other components of the treatment protocol may be responsible for any observed benefits. In addition to the absence of controls for spontaneous remission, no research has ruled out factors that are common-to greater or lesser degrees-in all psychotherapies. These include placebo effects resulting from the mere expectation for improvement, demand characteristics, therapist enthusiasm and support, therapist-client alliance, and effort justification (i.e., the tendency to report positive changes in order to justify the effort exerted; Lohr, Lilienfeld, Tolin, and Herbert 1999). Thus, despite the absence of empirical evidence to support TFT’s claims of tremendous effectiveness, it would not be surprising to find that the procedure sometimes produces benefits for some individuals owing to these common mechanisms shared by all forms of psychotherapy. Serious psychotherapy innovators go to great lengths to conduct studies to demonstrate that the hypothesized active ingredients of their procedures outperform these so-called “nonspecific” effects. No such effort has been made by the promoters of TFT.

Callahan, however, dismisses the possibility that TFT could be explained by such mechanisms. He asserts that “clinical evidence” has ruled out the possibility of nonspecific or placebo effects accounting for TFT’s results, but fails to support this claim (Callahan and Callahan 1997). He frequently states that placebo effects cannot be operative in TFT because some clients express skepticism that the tapping will work (Hooke 1998a). This argument demonstrates a misunderstanding of the placebo concept, which does not necessarily require the individual to fully believe in the practitioner’s explanation for why a procedure works (Bootzin 1985; Dodes 1997). Callahan (1999) also reports case studies in which he claims to have observed a “re-balancing” of the autonomic nervous system after treatment with TFT, and that this somehow refutes the placebo explanation. In fact, it is well accepted that the autonomic nervous system, including phenomena such as pulse, blood pressure, and electrocardiogram changes, can be influenced by various psychological events, including placebos (Ross and Buckalew 1985).

In addition to nonspecific and placebo effects, TFT appears to incorporate procedures from existing, well-established therapies. TFT therapists instruct clients to focus repeatedly on distressing thoughts and images during the tapping sequences. Such repeated exposure to distressing cognitions is a well-known behavior therapy technique called imagery exposure (Foa and Meadows 1997). Furthermore, TFT therapists utilize cognitive coping statements throughout treatment (e.g., “I accept and forgive them for what they did”), which represent another established cognitive therapy technique. In short, any effects that TFT might show can be readily explained by known mechanisms, without invoking unfounded concepts such as “perturbations” and “thought fields” (Hooke 1998a).

TFT and EFT

Since the emergence of TFT, several therapists have recently developed offshoot therapies based on treating the body’s energy fields. The most successful of these TFT derivatives was developed by Gary Craig. Craig (1997), who has a degree in engineering and formerly studied under Callahan, created what he calls Emotional Freedom Techniques (EFT). EFT is very similar to TFT, except that it employs one simplified and ubiquitous tapping procedure instead of applying different algorithms to treat different problems. On his Web site⁴, Craig asserts that Callahan’s reliance on differing algorithms is unnecessary because he has witnessed TFT therapists tap in the wrong order or apply the wrong algorithm to the particular problem and still obtain improvements. Craig’s anecdotal evidence appears to contradict Callahan’s anecdotal evidence. Furthermore, Craig extends his tapping therapy far beyond the realm of mental health, reporting testimonials from individuals who claim to have successfully used EFT to treat everything from autism to warts and various other medical problems with positive results. In the latest developments, Craig has reported on the positive effects of "surrogate tapping,” in which therapists tap on themselves to treat the problems of others.

A scientifically minded investigator would have then taken Craig’s observations a step further and tested a completely "placebo” algorithm which did not tap on any supposed energy meridians to see if it produced similar results. However, Craig reports that he has never carried out this simple experiment nor does he know of anyone who has (Craig, personal communication, January 14, 2000). Furthermore, Craig speculates that a placebo algorithm may be impossible because tapping anywhere on the body will affect the body’s energy meridians. This position conveniently renders Craig’s theory unfalsifiable and therefore outside the realm of science.

Pseudoscience in Psychotherapy

Lilienfeld (1998) argues that the proliferation of pseudoscience in psychotherapy is threatening the public welfare and damaging the reputation of psychology. Lohr, Montgomery et al. (1999) assert that the contemporary commercial promotion of treatments for the sequelae of trauma, such as EMDR and TFT, are commonly characterized by a host of pseudoscientific practices. In general, pseudoscience can be identified as consisting of “claims presented so that they appear scientific even though they lack supporting evidence and plausibility” (Shermer 1997, 33). For example, TFT incorporates scientific-sounding terminology by speaking of "bioenergies” and taking concepts from quantum physics out of context in an attempt to gain credibility. No empirical evidence is provided for the existence of central concepts such thought fields or perturbations, which are instead inferred through ad hoc, circular reasoning. For example, Callahan and Callahan (1997) state that perturbations are ultimately demonstrated through their effects, meaning that a perturbation in the thought field must have existed because after treatment the person no longer experiences distress.

The hallmark of a science is falsifiability (Popper 1965). A scientific proposition must specify, a priori, predictions that can be refuted, at least in principle. Callahan has not provided a framework by which his theory could be brought under scientific investigation. As is characteristic of pseudoscience, only confirming evidence of TFT is sought out and presented by advocates (Lohr, Montgomery, et al. 1999). Neither Callahan nor other proponents, including Carbonell and Figley (1999), have subjected TFT to controlled evaluation using accepted scientific methods and published results in peer-reviewed journals.

The objective of a pseudoscience is often persuasion and promotion, in lieu of responsible investigation of claims (Bunge 1967). Web sites advertise courses and multilevel training in TFT techniques for thousands of dollars. The highest level of training in TFT is called Voice Technology (VT), which supposedly allows the therapist to diagnosis perturbations and treat clients entirely over the telephone by analyzing their voices. The effectiveness of VT is said to approach 100 percent (Callahan 1998). Callahan sells this technique for $100,000, and trainees must sign nondisclosure contracts that forbid them from discussing or revealing any aspects of the technique. Recently, the Arizona Board of Psychologist Examiners put a psychologist on probation for refusing to provide specific information about VT to back up his assertion of its high degree of effectiveness (Foxhall 1999; Lilienfeld and Lohr 2000). Interestingly, on his Web site⁵ Gary Craig, who was trained in the method, stresses that the putative “secret” behind VT is readily available "in the public domain and can be learned at a weekend workshop for a few hundred dollars.” The mystery surrounding VT only has the effect of obfuscating independent examination and investigation.

Finally, pseudosciences explain away or reinterpret failures as actually providing confirmatory evidence (Lakatos 1978). Callahan proposes the existence of a phenomenon termed “psychological reversal” to explain instances in which TFT fails to work. Psychological reversal is claimed to result in self-sabotaging attitudes and behaviors and is manifested in the reversed flow of energy that blocks the effects of the treatment (Callahan 1998). The prescribed treatment for such a condition involves reciting more cognitive coping statements (e.g., “I accept myself, even though I have this problem”) that may alleviate distress independent of tapping. In addition, “energy toxins” are claimed to be substances that negatively affect the thought field, even if the person is not physically allergic to these supposed pathogens. These substances are proposed to cause a previously eliminated symptom to return (Joslin 1999). Using “muscle testing” procedures and VT, the offending pathogen can allegedly be identified, then removed until the treatment works again. Both psychological reversal and energy toxins are prime examples of post hoc reasoning and attempts to ignore disconfirming evidence by creating uncorroborated explanations of TFT failures.

Conclusion and Implications

Despite extraordinary claims to the contrary, TFT is not supported by scientific evidence. The theoretical basis of TFT is grounded in unsupported and discredited concepts including the Chinese philosophy of chi and Applied Kinesiology. Many of the practices of TFT proponents are much more consistent with pseudoscience than science. Controlled studies evaluating the efficacy of TFT will be required for the treatment to be taken seriously by the scientific community.

TFT is only now beginning to garner negative press, and critiques are starting to appear in the popular literature. For example, Swenson (1999) recently reviewed the extraordinary claims for TFT made by Callahan and others, and noted the absence of controlled research to support these claims. Recently in the Skeptical Inquirer, Lilienfeld and Lohr (2000) reported on the American Psychological Association’s decision in late 1999 to prohibit its sponsors of continuing education programs for psychologists from offering credits for training in TFT, as well as the sanctioning of an Arizona psychologist for using TFT and Voice Technology within the practice of psychology.

Nevertheless, thousands of therapists from various professional disciplines continue to pay for TFT training courses. Much of TFT’s marketing success can be attributed to the prevalence of pro-TFT Web sites that promote strong claims of its effectiveness. TFT therapists, some of whom have no traditional training in psychology or psychotherapy, appear to be satisfied with TFT’s vivid anecdotal stories of success, and are not aware of or not bothered by the overwhelming lack of empirical support for the procedure. Englebretsen (1995), among others, points to the alarming rise of postmodernist attitudes currently permeating the mental health field, exemplified by the willingness of some clinicians to value compelling anecdotal stories over controlled empirical data. This postmodernist mindset promotes the notion that all truth is relative and contextual; science is only one of many modes of thinking, each of which is equally valid. Such attitudes render the mental health field fertile breeding ground for pseudoscientific therapies such as TFT and its derivatives. Healthy skepticism competes head-to-head with extraordinary claims and, as is often the case, many mental health clinicians choose to ignore the facts in favor of miraculous possibilities.

Notes

1. http://www.tftrx.com
   
2. http://www.thoughtfield.com
   
3. http://homepages.enterprise.net/ig/
   
4. http://www.emofree.com/scien-i.htm
   
5. http://www.emofree.com/about.htm
   

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