Anyone who has studied physics (the science of the laws of nature) knows how daunting the task is of learning the philosophical and mathematical formalisms needed to fully comprehend, express, and apply natural laws. Complicating this situation is the fact that some of these laws are still “under construction"-being debated by the scientific community. Moreover, today we have two fundamental approaches to studying the natural world (quantum theory and Einsteinian physics), built from completely different basic assumptions (Sachs 1988). Fortunately, in the macroscopic ("real”) world, the subject of this article, physics has revealed to us definite rules by which nature always operates-rules for establishing what isphysically possible and for eliminating the impossible. We have confidence in these laws because with all the observations and experiments that have been (and continue to be) performed, no exception to them has yet come to light; that is, they constitute the best explanation of the natural world available to us today. At this point, one could ask: Why do these laws exist in the first place? The answer to this question is beyond the reach of science; all we know is that we can identify natural laws, observe them in action, and use them to explain and predict natural phenomena. This is what Einstein meant with his famous statement, "To me, the most incomprehensible thing about the universe is that it is comprehensible” (my emphasis).

Arguably the most fundamental of these laws is one due to Einstein himself, though it isn't a law about the behavior of nature but, rather, a law about natural laws themselves.

Principle of Universality

The Principle of Universality says that all laws of nature must work the same way everywhere. That is, the laws are objective; it doesn't matter who does the experiment or where, the same results should be produced under the same conditions. This is why knowledge of, say, biology, chemistry, and the forces of nature in our part of the universe allows us to outline the potentialities and limitations of life and space travel in other regions. Since the speed of light (c in the equation E=mc2) is the speed limit for travel and signal propagation here, it is also the (extensively verified) limit everywhere else; no matter how advanced spacefaring technology may be on other worlds, their inhabitants are still condemned to travel the vast reaches of interstellar space, for many thousands or millions of years, at speeds below c. (And as for “wormholes,” those hypothetical shortcuts through space, they are pure theoretical abstractions possessing serious conceptual difficulties-including violation of several of the laws outlined below-as well as insurmountable practical ones.)

Principle of Causality

Causality states that causes must exist for all effects, and must come before the effects they produce. Parents must be born before their children; they cannot be born after them. In Einstein’s physics causality holds in all domains of the natural world, but quantum theory allows for violation of microcausality at the (microscopic) quantum level. In our macroscopic world, however, causality holds absolutely. This is one important reason why time travel is impossible; to go backwards in time means reversing every cause-and-effect event in the entire universe between then and now. Apart from the obvious practical difficulties, this would entail violations of other fundamental natural laws-such as conservation (see below)-if the traveler’s own birth (or other specific event) was not to be reversed! (True, solutions of certain equations for travel at speeds exceeding c do allow a reversal of the direction of time, but this is physically meaningless because the particles which could exist in such a world-named tachyons-would not be real; they have imaginary masses!)

It is also important to remember that the connection between a cause and its effect must be a legitimate consequence of natural laws. Pseudoscience frequently misapplies irrelevancies (such as simple coincidence) to imply such a connection, then brings in untestable (therefore scientifically meaningless) supernatural agents to connect cause and effect.

I should also mention that a system that is too complex for us to model with cause-and-effect relations (for example, a roomful of air molecules) is usually studied using statistics and probability. This approach has been called the “mathematical theory of ignorance” (Kline 1964) because we use it where we can't follow (are ignorant of) the physical behavior of every specimen in the system. The statistical treatment bypasses the details of how the natural laws affect each individual particle, and instead gives us information about the state of the whole system; it’s therefore descriptive rather than explanatory. However we investigate it, though, the behavior of every component of our system is still governed by the same natural laws as the rest of the universe.

Law of Extrema

Simply put, the Law of Extrema states that all natural processes act to extremize (maximize or minimize) a physical quantity. (In mathematics, an extremum-plural, extrema-is the maximum or minimum of a function.) An especially important instance of this (related to the Law of Entropy, below) is the principle that all systems, by themselves, tend toward a state of minimum energy. This explains many phenomena in nature including the deaths of all organisms as well as of stars, water running downhill by itself but not uphill, the temperature of a hot object decreasing to that of its surroundings, and all possible chemical reactions-from the formation of atoms into molecules and molecules into matter, to combustion of fuels, to metal rusting, to metabolism in living beings. This is why the dead do not spontaneously come back to life, and why one cannot make an engine that uses water (the "ashes” from combustion of hydrogen and oxygen) as fuel. A further example comes from Einstein’s theory of general relativity, where all bodies influenced by gravity move along paths of maximum or minimum length, called geodesics. And all of geometrical optics (the study of light moving through macroscopic media) derives from Fermat’s principle: Light follows the path for which time is a minimum.

Conservation of Matter and Energy

In general, conservation means that in an isolated system a given physical quantity does not change with time. (If you do have outside interference, it can be included by extending the definition of the “system” and conservation will still hold.) An especially important and useful conservation law is that matter and/or energy are neither created nor destroyed over time; they merely change form, and their sum total always remains the same. For example, the chemical energy of a quantity of gasoline is changed into the same amount of kinetic energy in a moving car. Braking to a stop converts this kinetic energy into the same amount of heat energy in the brakes, and this increases the heat of the ambient air by, again, the same amount. You can of course add in external effects of air resistance, friction with the road, and so on; the grand total will still equal the initial energy released by the gasoline. And the total mass of air and gasoline ingested by the engine equals the total mass of the exhaust products. Consider now the erroneous belief that electric automobiles run on “free” energy. The vehicle’s kinetic energy comes from electrical energy made elsewhere, predominantly from conversion of chemical energy in fossil fuels or thermal energy from a nuclear reactor. And these processes produce waste, so cars (and other devices) running on electrical energy usually aren't truly “pollution free,” either!

Many people claim that ghosts from time to time leave their nonphysical realm to appear here in ours. If they can interact with our material environment (by becoming visible to human eyes or cameras, causing objects to move, and so on), they must be at least partially composed of matter themselves (since it’s observational fact that only matter produces the radiation, gravity, and mechanical forces that affect other matter). Therefore, by disappearing from their domain and appearing in ours, they violate conservation of matter (and energy) in both worlds! And in ours, this simply cannot occur.

Law of Entropy

The concept of entropy is still being actively debated by philosophers of science and is difficult to convey, so what follows is my own working definition. I find it useful to define an increase or decrease in entropy as a loss or gain in any one, two, or all three of these properties of a system: order, information, and available energy. The Law of Entropy then states that, in any real-world situation, entropy irreversibly increases for an isolated system.

Consider an ordinary piece of photocopy paper. There is a certain amount of order to it (its geometric shape, uniform thickness, and so on). It also contains information, since all of its particles reside within its clearly defined form and have definite locations within it. It also has some available energy, since we can burn it to produce heat and light. Suppose we now do ignite this piece of paper and let it burn completely. Order has been lost because there is no longer a nice rectangular shape to the material, and the particles have dispersed. Information is lost because we no longer know where a given particle is; most have in fact broken up into smoke and ashes. And available energy is lost too, because the heat and light have dissipated into the environment and the burnt remains possess far less available energy than the paper did. In sum, entropy has increased.

But can we “recombine” the fire, smoke, and ashes by reversing every microscopic process involved in the combustion and reconstitute the paper? In theory, yes-but only through external efforts; one consequence of the Law of Entropy is that the paper (like any isolated system) will not spontaneously regenerate itself. In practice, of course, this would be an unfeasible task, so the burning of the paper remains an irreversible process. The same holds, for example, for the death of any living being.

All living creatures take in energy from their surroundings to offset the natural tendency toward increasing entropy (and its ultimate consequences, death and total decomposition). But while this allows for small-scale, individual growth in size and complexity (increasing order, information, and available energy, meaning a local decrease in entropy), the entropy of the ambient as a whole increases. As the Sun emits energy into space, its entropy increases irreversibly. A plant uses a tiny fraction of this energy, and chemicals from its environment, to decrease its own entropy as it grows. Put the plant in an airtight, lightproof container, though, and this now-isolated system will quickly succumb to the Law of Entropy: It will die and decompose as it approaches its maximum entropy state.

Another consequence of the Law of Entropy is that all real-world processes, biological or otherwise, must produce some waste in the form of cast-off energy (and, often, matter also). However small this waste may be, it is never zero-that is, no natural or man-made process can ever be 100 percent efficient. The human metabolism, for example, is only about 50 percent efficient; half of the energy we derive from food and oxygen intake becomes waste heat. Clearly, the Law of Entropy rules out practical perpetual-motion machines whose efficiency is by definition 100 percent, not to mention those miraculous “free-energy” machines that, on their own, produce more energy than they consume (thus exceeding 100 percent efficiency).

We conclude by noting that the Law of Entropy can be stated in terms of the Law of Extremes: All natural processes act to maximize the entropy of a system. As we have seen, any such system can temporarily sustain itself from the energy cast off by another system as it progresses towards its own state of maximum entropy, but ultimately the entropy of the entire ambient must irreversibly increase. This offers another argument against time travel (as well as, for example, resurrection of the dead), since all of the myriad processes and events that elapse between any two dates (such as the beginning and end of the dying process) are, for all practical purposes, irreversible. (Some philosophers connect this with the concept of the arrow of time.) It indeed appears that the ancient Greek thinker Heraclitus was right: You can never step into the same river twice.

References

• Kline, M. 1964. Mathematics in Western Culture. New York: Oxford University Press.
• Sachs, M. 1988. Einstein versus Bohr: The continuing controversies in physics. La Salle, Ill.: Open Court.

See also: Rupert Sheldrake’s response

Rupert Sheldrake (1994) has written a curious book, Seven Experiments That Could Change the World: A Do-It-Yourself Guide to Revolutionary Science. Sheldrake proposes an Alice Through the Looking Glass vision of things that possibly could be so but, in all probability, are not. Doing science in a controlled and thoughtful manner is a challenging and tricky operation. This is especially true of research on the paranormal, where the claims are difficult to prove because the effects are small and unreliable. Sheldrake advocates the collective participation of amateurs and nonscientists who have the “freedom to explore new areas of research.” It is certainly true that the theories and methods of science change slowly and at times scientists do appear reluctant to accept new paradigms. Anybody capable of switching on a computer and downloading Sheldrake’s Web pages can become a member of Sheldrake’s army of revolutionary scientific experimenters.

Apart from their reluctance to change paradigms, it has been shown elsewhere (Marks and Kammann 1980; Marks 2000) what can happen when research on the paranormal is left purely to a few of the professionals. They can mess up badly. Sheldrake encourages us to set aside our prejudices about the “prestige of professional credentials” and wait for the outcomes of his “world changing” experiments. This is an awesome prospect that we can only wait for in trepidation. Will they randomize correctly? Will they use double-blind controls? Will they prevent cueing? Will they use independent judges? Will they use proper statistical procedures? The questions go on and on, but in the end, it will be a matter for future commentators to judge whether knowledge grows faster with Sheldrake’s revolutionaries or with the conventional methods of normal science. In this article we examine the early findings concerning one of Sheldrake’s seven phenomena: psychic staring.

The Perceptual Theory of the Staring Effect

Rupert Sheldrake (1994) has a radically new theory of perception. Contrary to commonly held and, so Sheldrake believes, possibly mistaken assumptions, we do not see images of things inside our brains. The images, in fact, may be outside us: “Vision may involve a two-way process, an inward movement of light and an outward projection of mental images.” Imagine, for example, that as you read this page rays of light are traveling from the paper and print in front of you, into your eyes, and from there into the visual processing centers in your brain. At the same time this is happening, Sheldrake suggests that your images and perceptions of these very words are projected outwards through your eyes into the world, ending up exactly where the page and print are. There is no conflict between the real page and the imaged page because they look identical and occupy the same area of space. In the case of illusions and hallucinations, the images do not coincide with the things outside us but involve projection, an outward movement of images, nevertheless.

Sheldrake’s hypothetical process of outward projection of images has some interesting implications. If our minds reach out and "touch” what we look at, then we may directly affect what we look at. For example, when we stare at somebody from behind, they may be able to actually feel that we are staring at the back of his or her neck. This feeling of being stared at apparently gives the impression of strain or pressure from skin, muscle, tendon, and joint in or around the neck region. Titchener (1898) described the feeling as “a state of unpleasant tingling, which gathers in volume and intensity until a movement which shall relieve it becomes inevitable” (895). There is in fact a sizable literature of experiments on “psychic staring,” the fact that some people believe that they can determine when they are being stared at by another person who is not directly in their field of vision. Colwell, Schroeder, and Sladen (2000) reviewed this literature and carried out some empirical tests.

The psychologist Titchener reported the phenomenon over a century ago, and the idea that “unseen” staring can be detected has been supported in the subsequent research with incidence rates as high as 68-86% (Coover 1913), 74% (Williams 1983), and 92% (Braud, Shafer, and Andrews 1993a). Titchener rejected the idea that the staring effect was based on telepathy and suggested the hypothesis that the eye is attracted to movement and the starer’s gaze is therefore attracted to the staree’s head turning in his direction. This is certainly the case in everyday life. One of us (DM) well remembers a staring incident when his son Michael was about eight years old. Michael became disturbed one day as we were walking along a neighborhood street that people were staring specifically at him. I asked Michael how he knew that unless he had already been staring at them! Michael’s feeling of being stared at disappeared shortly after that. Similarly, Titchener attributed the cause of the feeling of being stared at to the staree, not the starer, and so the attribution of causality to the starer is false, a misinterpretation (Colwell, Schroder, and Sladen 2000).

Sheldrake has conducted new experiments on the staring phenomenon and encouraged school children and other members of the public to participate in his research program. Experimental kits can be downloaded from the New Scientist Web site, including an interesting list of twenty-four “random” sequences for use in experimental trials. Sheldrake suggests that each child in a group be tested with a different sequence or use sequences determined by tosses of a coin. The results are being compiled by Sheldrake into a pooled data set.

There are two basic methods that Sheldrake’s revolutionary experimenters are expected to use:

1. Pairs of schoolchildren divide into starers and starees with the starer sitting at least one meter behind the staree. Using random number sequences and a method for signalling trials such as a “clicker,” the starer signals the start of each of a sequence of twenty trials. The staree wears airline blindfolds, and responses are recorded on data sheets by the starer. After a block of twenty trials, the two children change roles.
2. Starers and starees are isolated with starers inside and starees outside of the school building.

New Staring Studies

One of the authors (JC) decided to put the Sheldrake findings to rigorous test under controlled laboratory conditions (Colwell, Schroder, and Sladen 2000). On the basis of Sheldrake’s observations, it was decided to investigate the staring effect both with and without feedback. Two new experiments were carried out at Middlesex University.

Experiment One

Twelve volunteers, seven men and five women, who believed in the staring detection effect, were tested individually in a situation where they were stared at (or not) through a one-way mirror while sitting with their back to the mirror. Sheldrake’s original sequences were downloaded from the New Scientist Web site and used to guide staring and non-staring trials. Each participant received the first 12 sequences in the same order, with 20 trials in each sequence. The beginning and end of each trial was signaled to the staree on a monitor, after which he indicated whether or not he thought he was being stared at by pressing one of two response buttons. No feedback was given on the accuracy of each trial for the first three sessions (60 trials), but on the remaining nine sequences (180 trials) the word “correct” or “false” appeared after each response. The results are summarized in table 1.

Table 1. Overall accuracy scores in Experiment One
(Colwell et al. 2000).

The starees may have been learning something useful about the sequences as a result of the feedback. If the sequences used to generate the trials were not perfectly random then they could have a predictable patterning in their structure. It is sometimes the case that experimenters use pseudo-random sequences rather than truly random ones (Brugger, Landis, and Regard 1990). This enables the experimenter to equalize the number of trials in two different experimental conditions (e.g., stare versus non-stare) and means that the starees may have been able to learn the sequence structure from the feedback. Such learning will increase with exposure, and to test for this possibility the twelve sessions were divided into four blocks of three sessions each (table 2) and accuracy scores were compared across the four blocks of sessions.

Table 2. Average accuracy for staring and nonstaring trials across the four blocks of 60 trials each
(Colwell et al. 2000).

The results in this table show clear support for the hypothesis that learning has taken place. The average level of accuracy improves from block 1 (no feedback) through blocks 2-4 (with feedback). This can be seen in the gradually increasing accuracy (see columns 2 and 6).

This suggests that Sheldrake’s “random” number sequences actually contain structure, or bias, and therefore an analysis of them was undertaken. The number of repetitions in a sequence of 20 binary events should be 9.5 (Wagenaar 1970, 1972). The numbers of repetitions in Sheldrake’s 12 sequences are: 6, 6, 6, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9, 7, 7, 7, averaging 7.42, and this is below chance level. The average probability of a repetition is 0.39, well below what would be expected in a truly random sequence (0.50). Another way of analyzing the patterning in the sequence trials is to divide the series of stare (S) and no stare (N) trials into the eight possible trios or “three-tuples” of trials, e.g., SNS, SNN, SSN, etc. (Rapoport and Budescu 1997). In theory a random sequence should contain an equal number of the eight kinds of three-tuples giving each of the eight a probability of 1/8 =.125. The frequency of each trio was analyzed across the 12 sequences. There were huge deviations from a random distribution with many more alternating sequences (SNS and NSN) than there should have been and far fewer sequences of SSS and NNN. The deviation from randomness was highly significant (p<.001).

It appears likely that the subjects in the staring research are able to score above chance as a consequence of being able to learn the non-random patterns in the sequences using the feedback. This idea receives support from the literature on “implicit learning,” which suggests that the learning can take place incidentally without conscious awareness (Reber 1989). There is a huge literature on “probability learning” that suggests people are very good at learning the global and local probabilities in the patterning of events (e.g., Servan-Schreiber and Anderson 1990). The tendency of the participants to avoid multiple repetitions was well matched by Sheldrake’s sequences that showed exactly the same property. The fact that starees can guess when staring is occurring at above-chance levels therefore demonstrates nothing other than an ability to notice patterns. This is a low-level ability that even a mouse can manage. However, it could be argued that improvement was not due to learning, but to an increase in sensitivity to unseen staring with repeated exposure -that is, a paranormal explanation. A critical test of the two explanations was to rerun the experiment using genuinely random sequences. Improving performance would support the paranormal explanation whereas an implicit learning explanation would predict failure to beat the mean chance expectation (MCE).

Experiment Two

Colwell, Schroder, and Sladen repeated the experiment with one main difference. Ten properly randomized sequences taken from random number tables were used instead of Sheldrake’s nonrandom sequences to guide staring and nonstaring episodes. Tests of randomness were carried out and passed. Feedback was given in all sessions, the first one of the ten being purely for practice. In this case no improvement in guessing rates occurred over the three blocks of trials. The results of this experiment support the hypothesis that the improvement in accuracy during staring episodes observed in experiment one was due to pattern learning. When no feedback was provided and pattern learning was blocked (experiment one, blocks 1-3) no ability to detect staring was observed and also no learning. These data suggest that there is no evidence of a general ability to detect unseen staring when the staring and nonstaring trials are properly randomized or when no feedback is provided. The only positive results were in the context of feedback and the nonrandom sequences generated by Sheldrake.

Sheldrake has made little attempt to control for sensory cueing in his research, but some studies have solved the problem by increasing physical separation. For example, Williams (1983) linked starer and staree (in rooms sixty feet apart) by closed circuit television. Following a random number sequence, the monitor in the starer’s room would come on for 12-second periods, enabling him to view the staree, and these constituted the staring periods. Presumably 12-second nonstaring periods were also provided. A positive detection effect was obtained. No feedback was given, and so implicit learning would not be possible. However, as in Sheldrake’s research, randomness of sequences was not controlled for, and the possibility of a matching in bias between experimental and response sequences exists, which could lead to increased accuracy (Gatlin 1977).

Explanations in terms of sequence randomness would not account for the positive results obtained by Braud, Shafer, and Andrews (1993a, 1993b). This research used a setup similar to that of Williams (1983), except that the measure of detection was physiological-spontaneous phasic skin resistance response (SSR), which measured sympathetic autonomic nervous system arousal. However, the robustness of Braud et al.'s findings is open to question, since some replications have found the effect (Schlitz and LaBerge 1997), while others have failed (Wiseman and Smith 1994; Wiseman et al. 1995). Collaborative research by Wiseman and Schlitz (1997) using the same methodology, the same equipment, in the same location, at the same time, drawing participants from the same pool, resulted in evidence of a staring detection effect for Schlitz (a psi believer) but not for Wiseman (a skeptic). Possible reasons for these experimenter effects are discussed, though no firm conclusions are drawn, and further research on this experimenter effect is recommended.

However, as both Colwell, Schroder, and Sladen (2000) and Baker (2000) point out, the detection of staring at a subconscious level provides no support for claims by Sheldrake and others of a conscious awareness of being stared at in the absence of normal sensory information. Baker’s recent research, which included "informal staring” at individuals in everyday situations before asking them if they had been aware of being stared at, and laboratory sessions in which subjects acted both as starers and starees, provided no empirical support for a conscious ability to detect unseen staring.

Summary

Sheldrake has made the bold claim that people are able to consciously detect unseen staring at above-chance levels. Unfortunately the sequences he has used in his research are completely unsuitable. They follow the same patterning that people who guess and gamble like to follow. These guessing patterns have relatively few long runs and many alternations. The biased nature of Sheldrake’s sequences has several unfortunate implications. First, it leads to implicit or explicit pattern learning when feedback is provided. When the patterns being guessed mirror naturally occurring guessing patterns, the results could go above or below chance levels even without feedback. Thus significant results might occur purely from nonrandom guessing. The New Scientist Web site is disseminating Sheldrake’s nonrandom sequences to young people and other amateur scientists all over the world. This may be having an unintended negative influence on scientific education and rigor among some of society’s most motivated and enthusiastic young scientists. It is also vicariously increasing the likelihood that thousands of amateur investigators all over the world could be misled into paranormal beliefs by their potentially spurious findings. This is surely not what the magazine intended. The evidence reviewed here provides no support to the claim that people can consciously detect unseen staring.

References

• Baker, R.A. 2000. Can we tell when someone is staring at us? Skeptical Inquirer: 24 (2): 34-40.
• Braud, W., D. Shafer, and S. Andrews. 1993a. Reactions to an unseen gaze (remote attention): A review, with new data on autonomic staring detection. Journal of Parapsychology 57: 372-390.
• ---. 1993b. Further studies of autonomic detection of remote staring: Replication, new control procedures, and personality correlates. Journal of Parapsychology 57: 391-409.
• Brugger, P., T. Landis, and M. Regard. 1990. A “sheep-goat effect” in repetition and avoidance: Extra-sensory perception as an effect of subjective probability? British Journal of Psychology 81: 455-468.
• Colwell, J., S. Schroder, and D. Sladen. 2000. The ability to detect unseen staring: A literature review and empirical tests. British Journal of Psychology 91: 71-85.
• Coover, J.E. 1913. The feeling of being stared at. American Journal of Psychology 24: 570-575.
• Gatlin, L.L. 1977. Meaningful information creation: An alternative interpretation of the psi phenomenon. Journal of the American Society for Psychical Research 73: 1-18.
• Marks, D., and R. Kammann. 1980. The Psychology of the Psychic. Buffalo, New York: Prometheus Books.
• Marks, D.F. 2000. The Psychology of the Psychic (second edition). Amherst, New York: Prometheus Books.
• Matthews, R. 1997. The Sunday Telegraph. 2 November, p6.
• Rapoport, A., and D.V. Budescu. 1997. Randomization in individual choice behavior. Psychological Review 104 (3): 603-617.
• Reber, A.S. 1989. Implicit learning and tacit knowledge. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General 118: 219-235.
• Schlitz, M.J., and S. Laberge. 1997. Covert observations increases skin conductance in subjects unaware of when they are being observed: A replication. Journal of Parapsychology 61: 185-196.
• Servan-Schreiber, E., and J.R. Anderson. 1990. Learning artificial grammars with competitive chunking. Journal of Experimental Psychology: Learning, Memory, and Cognition 16: 592-608.
• Sheldrake, R. 1994. Seven Experiments That Could Change the World: A Do-It-Yourself-Guide to Revolutionary Science. London: Fourth Estate.
• Titchener, E.B. 1898. The feeling of being stared at. Science (New Series):VIII, 208, December 23, 895-897.
• Wagenaar, W.A. 1970. Subjective randomness and the capacity to generate information. Acta Psychologica 34: 233-242.
• Wagenaar, W.A. 1972. Generation of random sequences by human subjects: A critical survey of literature. Psychological Bulletin 77 (1): 65-72.
• Williams, L. 1983. Minimal cue perception of the regard of others: The feeling of being stared at. Journal of Parapsychology 47: 59-60.
• Wiseman, R., and M.D. Smith. 1994. A further look at the detection of unseen gaze. Proceedings of Presented Papers 37th Annual Convention. Ed. by D.J. Bierman, 465-478. Parapsychological Association, Fairhaven, Mass.
• Wiseman, R., M.D. Smith, D. Freedman, T. Wasserman, and C. Hurst. 1995. Two further experiments concerning the remote detection of unseen gaze. Proceedings of Presented Papers 38th Annual Convention. Ed. by D.J. Bierman, 480-492. Parapsychological Association, Fairhaven, Mass.
• Wiseman, R., and M. Schlitz. 1997. Experimenter effects and the remote detection of staring. Journal of Parapsychology 61: 197-207.

Across the globe, qigong (chi-gong) is many things to many people. The Chinese government has officially recorded over 3,000 different styles of what has become a form of religion for a nation craving some form of cultural, philosophical, and national identity. This book is significant because it is the first critical evaluation of qigong printed in English by Chinese scientists, who attempt to separate what they euphemistically call the “real” qigong from the sensationalism that has grown up around the ancient idea of qi.

The current popular view holds that Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) is a “natural” alternative to the “harmful side effects” of scientific medicine. Although the fusion of the two words qi and gong never appeared in print before the mid-1950s, the recently coined qigong term now appears prominently in TCM. After initially being attracted to qigong as a way of restoring health and well being, students may also be drawn toward promises that qigong can unleash latent psychic ability, claims that the authors firmly reject. Members of the China Association of Science and Technology (CAST) have investigated such claims for many years.

Originally published in China for Chinese readers, the book has just recently been made available in English. More work on the translation and some professional editing would be welcomed, however. For example, many misleading statements are made that suggest the authors really believe in qigong “energy.” They remark about the wonderful cultural treasure that has benefited all of humanity. Some statements are even made to the effect that qigong has been proven scientifically!

The translator frequently neglects to indicate that a statement is a claim, not a fact and it isn't until sometimes several chapters later that we learn that the statements were only that: unsubstantiated and sometimes bogus claims. The authors gradually explain that the “experiments” were found to be seriously flawed and the resulting “proof” invalid. In the end, all that remains of what they describe as such an important contribution to the world boils down to nothing more than stretching, relaxation, and faith healing. This is what they vigilantly refer to as the “real” qigong. There may be political and cultural reasons for such diplomatic semantics.

Campaigns and regulations were imposed in China during the mid-1980s that discouraged the spread of rampant con-artistry, in which qigong masters were seriously bilking the public and in some cases dispensing poisonous medicine that led to a number of deaths. Now if you wish to register as a qigong organization, you must first file a petition with the Qigong Science Institute of China. They must then gain approval from the Chinese Science Association, which is under the jurisdiction of the Science Commission of the City of Beijing. This bureaucracy was intended to guard against "non-scientific” and “superstitious” groups, but the distinction seems to be based more on how well the advocates are able to bribe (establish “relationships” with) officials, rather than on any real scientific criteria. It is ironic that when CAST was formed, it had to do so as a branch of an official qigong organization. The only way for them to organize was as a team investigating what they call "false” qigong, with the implication that they are acting as guardians of the “genuine” qigong.

Just as former President Deng Xiaoping labeled his capitalist reforms “socialism with Chinese characteristics,” so the authors must adhere to the “true qigong” oxymoron. Perhaps it would be just too shocking to officially declare that the emperor has no clothes. Meanwhile, Yu Li (known in China as Sima Nan) has for several years offered a large cash prize to anyone who can demonstrate “real” qigong without cheating.

Examples of deception by some of the most popular qigong masters (referred to as qigongists) are examined, including Yan Xin, who now enjoys great popularity in the US. Yan became a TCM doctor in 1982, but two years later “his medical license was revoked due to his odd superstitious practices. Then Yan hunted for work elsewhere and became a quack doctor.” Some of Yan’s high-profile failures are documented, as are those of other “qigong gods.”

The final chapter is a report by Beijing Medical University psychiatrist Zhang Tongling on the effects of qigong-induced psychosis (zuohuo rumo). Delusions, hallucinations, and psychosis can result when people (especially those who are highly susceptible to suggestion) become obsessed with practicing qigong, a condition frequently encouraged by their masters. She says that selecting an "improper method” and practicing it for too long can result in the symptoms that she has specialized in treating for over twenty years. But what is the “right” method, one might ask? Well, what it finally comes down to again is just simple, uncomplicated relaxation. But in China rujing, not qigong, is the term used to describe relaxation meditation aimed at clearing the mind and thinking of nothing. Though the authors point out the great difficulties involved in defining qigong, they state that qigong stresses intense concentration on complex imagery, supplied from books, audiotapes, or from the master. This is what they say separates qigong from other activities. Dr. Zhang’s recommendations appear to be a polite way of saying that the only “correct” way to practice qigong is to choose some other activity (like rujing or tai chi) and call it a form of qigong.

Tennis anyone?

From snuff films to microwaved babies, alligators in sewers to AIDS-infected needles in telephone coin slots, urban legends are everywhere. With The Truth Never Stands in the Way of a Good Story!, folklorist and CSICOP Fellow Jan Harold Brunvand produces a new batch of funny and fascinating urban legends. Among the dozen or so tales:

• “The Brain Drain”

During the hot summer of 1995, a woman driving home from a trip to the grocery store heard a loud pop in the back of her car. Alarmed, she turned around, but didn't see what made the noise. She then touched the back of her head, and felt something soft and gooey in her hair. Though she felt no pain, she realized she'd been shot in the head and was terrified that it was her brains she was feeling. Panicked, she drove immediately to an emergency room. As paramedics treated the shaken woman, one rescuer noticed that a can of frozen biscuits had burst open in the heat; the dough had hit the woman in the head.

Urban legends are in many ways the folklore of the people, being spread informally through word of mouth as well as over the Internet. Wherever ordinary people gather, such as schoolyards, picnics, in coffee bars and around water coolers, urban legends will be exchanged. In addition to providing a fascinating glimpse into modern folklore, urban legends allow us to study beliefs. Why do people believe the stories they hear? What are the reasons people have for believing them?

As one folklore investigator wrote to Brunvand, “I have, in general, stopped trying to enlighten people about folklore, but it’s amazing how [investigating an urban legend] has affected my life, causing me to reject surface explanations and shallow thinking of all sorts. It doesn't make one very popular, I think, to understand folklore . . . . But, leaving aside popularity, I can think of few things that impart a healthy skepticism quite so enjoyably [as folklore study].”

Jan Brunvand is author of many books on urban legends, including The Vanishing Hitchhiker (1981), The Choking Doberman (1984), The Mexican Pet (1986), and Curses! Broiled Again! (1989). Prior to his recent retirement, he was a professor emeritus specializing in folklore at the University of Utah.

Drawing from years of experience and a sly wit, Brunvand discusses these urban legends, describes motifs, and catalogues story variations from around the world. He avoids berating those who pass urban legends along, and reserves his swipes for gullible journalists who don't check their facts and never let the truth stand in the way of a good story.

Over nearly thirty years of paranormal investigation, I have had the opportunity to experience many “haunted” sites. These have included burial places, like England’s West Kennet Long Barrow (where I failed to see the specter of a “Druid priest” that allegedly attends the ancient tomb); religious sanctuaries, such as Christ Church Cathedral in Fredericton, New Brunswick, Canada (where the apparition of the first bishop’s wife did not materialize); theaters, including the Lancaster (New York) Opera House (where a ghostly “Lady in Lavender” was a no-show); houses, like the historic residence of William Lyon Mackenzie in Toronto (where ghostly footfalls on the stairs were actually those of real people on a staircase next door); and other sites, notably inns-the subject of this investigative roundup. (Most of the inns cited-all personally investigated-included an overnight stay, staff interviews, background research, etc. [Nickell 1972-2000].)

Why haunted inns? Obviously, places open to the public have more numerous and more varied visitors, and hence more opportunities for ghostly experiences, than do private dwellings and out-of-the-way sites. And inns-by which I include hotels, motels, guesthouses, bed-and-breakfasts, and other places that provide overnight lodging-offer much more. They not only allow extended time periods for visitors to have unusual experiences but also ensure that the guests will be there during a range of states from alertness through sleep. Almost predictably, sooner or later, someone will awaken to an apparition at his or her bedside.

Appearances of the Dead

The experience is a common type of hallucination, known popularly as a ”waking dream,” which takes place between being fully asleep and fully awake. Such experiences typically include bizarre imagery (bright lights or apparitions of demons, ghosts, aliens, etc.) and/or auditory hallucinations. ”Sleep paralysis” may also occur, whereby there is an inability to move because the body is still in the sleep mode (Nickell 1995).

A good example of an obvious waking dream is reported by “A. C.” She was asleep on board the Queen Mary, the former ocean liner that, since 1971, has been permanently docked at Long Beach, California. As the woman relates:

I awoke from a deep sleep around midnight. I saw a figure walking near my daughter’s sleeping bag toward the door. Thinking it was my sister, I called out. There was no answer. It was then that I noticed my sister was lying next to me. I sat up in bed and watched the person in white walk through the door!

I was awakened from my sleep and observed the image of a person standing in front of my bed. There were no apparent physical features, but it appeared to be holding a flashlight, with a light shining out of it that was brighter than the form itself. I watched as the image swayed back and forth. When I called my roommate the image backed up. I called again and the vision backed up even further, toward the door. I reached for the light switch and tried to turn it on. The light switch seemed to spark and wouldn't turn on all the way. Finally, my roommate woke up; the light came on, and whatever it was, was gone. We slept with the TV on the rest of the night. It was a great experience, and I had a lot of fun! (Wlodarski et al. 1995, 33, 35)

Such an illusion or a different stimulus-a noise, a subjective feeling, etc.-might trigger, as in one experiencer aboard the Queen Mary, a “mental image.” In that case it was of a man “wearing a blue mechanic’s uniform”-a “feeling” which left after a few moments (Wlodarski et al. 1995, 32). In certain especially imaginative individuals the mental image might be superimposed upon the visual scene, thus creating a seemingly apparitional event.

This may be the explanation for a frequently reported type of apparition that is seen momentarily and then vanishes when the percipient looks away for an instant. For example, a New Mexico hotel, La Posada de Santa Fe-which is allegedly haunted by the spirit of Julie Staab (1844-1896), wife of the original builder-offers no fewer than three sightings of this type. One was reported in 1979 by an employee who was cleaning one night. Although the place was deserted he looked up to see a translucent woman standing near a fireplace. Inexplicably, he “returned to his cleaning,” an act that one writer noted showed “remarkable composure.” Then, “when he looked up again the figure had vanished.” On another occasion a security guard showed less reserve when, seeing what he thought was Julie, “He turned and ran, and when he looked back, the figure had vanished.” Yet again, a “beautifully dressed” Julie, reposing in an armchair, was seen by the hotel phone operator. However, “When she looked back at the chair a few seconds later, the ghost had vanished” (Mead 1995, 157-158). Such reports suggest that the apparition is only a mental image that occurs in a kind of reverie.

Indeed, personal experience as well as research data demonstrates that ghostly perceptions often derive from daydreams or other altered states of consciousness. Haraldsson (1988) for instance specifically determined that apparitional sightings were linked to periods of reverie. As well, Andrew MacKenzie (1982) demonstrated that a third of the hallucinatory cases he studied occurred either just before or after sleep, or while the percipient was in a relaxed state or concentrating on some activity like reading, or was performing routine work. The association of apparitional experiences with a dream-like state was also reported by G. N. M. Terrell (1973). He observed that apparitions of people invariably appear fully clothed and are frequently accompanied by objects, just as they are in dreams, because the clothing and other objects are required by the apparitional drama. The three La Posada encounters are consistent with all of these research observations. That the apparitions vanish when the observer’s gaze is shifted could be explained by the hypothesis that the reverie is merely broken.

Whereas “waking-dream” type encounters are obviously more likely to be experienced by hotel guests rather than employees, the reverie or daydream type is often reported by the latter-as in all three of the La Posada examples, as well as some of the instances from the Queen Mary (Wlodarski et al. 1995, 48, 49) and elsewhere. Hotel staff performing routine chores may be particularly susceptible to this type of apparitional experience.

Selling Ghosts

The power of suggestion can help trigger ghostly encounters. According to noted psychologist and fellow ghostbuster Robert A. Baker, “We tend to see and hear those things we believe in” (Baker and Nickell 1992, 129). Even without the prompting that comes from an inn’s reputation for being haunted, the mere ambiance of places with antique architecture and quaint decor can set the stage for spirits to debut. An example is Belhurst Castle (figure 1), a turreted stone inn in Geneva, New York, whose high-ceilinged lobby is graced with wood paneling, a large fireplace, and a suit of armor to help conjure up romantic notions. Historic sites like Maine’s Kennebunk Inn (expanded from a home built in 1799), the Farnsworth House in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, (constructed in 1810 and its south side pockmarked with bullet holes from the Battle of Gettysburg), and even the more recent Hotel Boulderado in Boulder, Colorado (which opened on New Year’s Day 1909 and boasts among its former guests Bat Masterson), offer the impress of history and legend. So does the Bardstown, Kentucky, Jailer’s Inn, a bed-and-breakfast converted from the old Nelson County Jail (built in 1819), and, in Santa Fe, the historic, adobe La Fonda Inn.

The influence of setting and mood on reports of phantoms is sometimes acknowledged even by those who approach the subject with great credulity, although they may interpret the linkage differently. Broadcaster Andrew Green, for example, in his treatise Haunted Inns and Taverns (1995), says of some copies of English pubs in Europe, the United States, and elsewhere: “A few have reproduced the ambiance so successfully that ghostly manifestations, such as might be associated with a genuine article, have occurred there.” Green opines that the “genial atmosphere” of such taverns attracts authentic English ghosts. He seems not to consider the possibility that the setting merely influences the imaginations of those making the reports.

In contrast is the knowing statement of ghost hunter Mason Winfield (1997, 176)-referring to the allegedly haunted Holiday Inn at Grand Island, New York-that “The environment of the Inn is not the gloomy, historic sort that puts people in mind of spooks.” As one who has spent an uneventful night in that resort hotel, indeed in its reputedly most-haunted room 422, I quite agree. But apparitions can occur anywhere. The Holiday Inn’s child ghost “Tanya” apparently originated with an impressionable maid who was cleaning the fourth-floor room shortly after the hotel opened in 1973. The housekeeper suddenly glimpsed a little girl standing in the doorway and, startled, dropped a couple of drinking glasses. When she looked up again, the child was gone. As the maid tried to flee, it was reported, “somehow her cart trapped her in the room. She screamed” (Winfield 1997, 176). Her apparitional encounter seems consistent with the typical conditions we have already discussed: at the time, she was performing routine chores. As to the cart, most likely, flustered, she merely encountered it where she had left it, blocking her flight, and panicked.

Other sightings there-like that of a Canadian man who awoke to see a little girl at the foot of his bed (Safiuddin 1994)-were of the waking-dream variety. But why is it often a little girl (even if varyingly identified as age “five or six” or “about age 10” [Winfield 1997, 176; Safiuddin 1994])? Those knowing about “Tanya” before their sighting may thus be influenced, while those who do not may, in light of subsequent statements or leading questions from those to whom they report an incident, reinterpret a vague sense of presence or a shadowy form as the expected ghost child. To compound the problem, many of the reports are at second- or third-hand, or an even greater remove.

Researching tales like that of the Holiday Inn’s child specter can be illuminating. In that case there is no evidence to support claims of “a little girl who was burned to death in a house that formerly stood on the site” (Hauck 1996, 291). The Grand Island historian was unable to document any deadly fire at that locale. The only known blaze at the site occurred in 1963, at which time the historic John Nice mansion had been transformed into a restaurant, and there was not a single fatality (Klingel 2000). My search of the nearby Whitehaven Cemetery, where the Nice family is buried, failed to turn up any credible candidate for the role of ghost-girl, least of all one named “Tanya”-which, as census and cemetery records show, was not the name of any of John Nice’s ten daughters (Linenfelser 2000).

A similar lack of substantiation characterizes many other haunting tales. Consider, for instance, the previously mentioned Belhurst Castle, located in New York’s scenic Finger Lakes region. Its colorful brochure announces: “Tales persist of the romantic past, of secret tunnels, hidden treasures buried in the walls and on the grounds, of ghosts and hauntings. Fact or Fancy? No one knows.” Actually the tales originated with the old mansion that previously stood on the site. No tunnel was ever found, and the stories apparently derive from a “small blind cellar” discovered beneath the old house when it was razed in 1888 to build the present “castle.” There was merely speculation that it might have served as a hidden vault for the securing of valuables. Prior to this, the dilapidated mansion “was a favorite playground of Geneva’s adventure-seeking youth, who were enticed by its reputation of being haunted,” according to a knowledgeable source, who adds: “However, there is no record that any 'spooks’ were ever encountered there, or ghostly manifestations of any sort whatsoever” (Emmons 1959). Nevertheless, citing some other Belhurst tales, Robin Mead states, in his Haunted Hotels (1995), ” . . . a property such as Belhurst Castle ought to be surrounded by legends like this, for they complement the atmosphere of romance and add a touch of mystery.”

Several inns I have investigated have featured ghosts in their promotional materials. In addition to Belhurst Castle, they include the Hotel Boulderado, the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, and Gettysburg’s Historic Farnsworth House Inn. The latter advertises that it is “open for tours and ghost stories”: “Descend the staircase into the darkness of the stone cellar. Hear, by candlelight, tales of phantom spectres whom [sic] are still believed to haunt the town and its battlefield.” These storybook ghosts may be the only ones to inhabit the inn. The owner told me emphatically that he had never seen a ghost-there or anywhere else. “I don't believe in that stuff,” he said. His daughter, however, who manages the inn, is not so skeptical, having “felt” a “presence” there. She related to me the experience of one guest who had seen a spectral figure after having gone to bed-very likely a common waking dream (Nickell 1995, 55).

The effect of new ownership has seemingly launched many hotel hauntings. Stories of ghostly events on the Queen Mary did not surface until after the ship became a tourist attraction in 1967 (Wlodarski et al. 1995, 13). At many other hotels, alleged paranormal events have seemed to wax and wane with changes in management. At the Holiday Inn on Grand Island, for example, the ghost tales-beginning soon after the initial opening-were happily related by one manager. He told a ghost hunter (Myers 1986, 291), “Our housekeepers have stories about Tanya that could fill a book.” But a successor was “concerned with trying to improve the reputation of his hotel and dispel the rumors surrounding it,” refusing “to acknowledge any paranormal happenings” (Gibson 1999).

Ghost tales may indeed be good for business. Explained an owner of one restaurant with bar, which “had a reputation for having ghosts” (Myers 1986, 228): “It was good conversation for the kind of business we're in. I never tried to dissuade anyone.” Other proprietors may go even further. An alleged ghost at the Kennebunk Inn in Kennebunk, Maine, may have originated with the purchase of the inn by one of its earlier owners. He reportedly told a bartender one night that he was “going to make up a story about a ghost,” presumably to promote the inn. Years later the former bartender related the story to the current owner, who in turn told me (Martin 1999).

A hoax could well explain the “ghostly activity” at the Kennebunk Inn, which included “moving and flying crystal goblets, exploding wineglasses behind the bar, disarrayed silverware, and moving chairs” (Hauck 1996, 198). In fact, prior to the particular change of ownership that seemed to spark the poltergeist effects, apparently “all was quiet” at the historic inn (Sit 1991). Apparently the ghost moved away when, after about fifteen years, the business was sold again. Still later owners John and Kristen Martin, reopened the inn in mid-1997 and, along with a tenant who had lived there for twenty years, reported no experiences (Martin 1999).

Figure 2. Does this corridor view in Colorado’s Hand Hotel show spectral entities, or just silhouetted students? You decide! (Photos by Joe Nickell)

Other signs of pranking there included a “ghost” photo (displayed in a lobby album) that the clerk confided to me was staged, and some pennies, placed on the back of a men’s room toilet, that from time to time would secretly become rearranged to form messages-like the word “why?” that I encountered. This obvious running prank invited other mischief makers (like one student) to join in.

Enter “Psychics”

This is not to say that all such pronouncements are insincere. Those who fancy themselves psychics may exhibit the traits associated with a “fantasy-prone” personality. That is a designation for an otherwise normal person with an unusual ability to fantasize. As a child, he or she may have an imaginary playmate and live much of the time in make-believe worlds. As an adult, the person continues to spend much time fantasizing, and may report apparitional, out-of-body, or near-death experiences; claim psychic or healing powers; receive special messages from higher beings; be easily hypnotized; and/or exhibit other traits (Wilson and Barber 1983). Anyone may have some of these traits, but fantasizers have them in profusion. Sylvia Browne, for example, as a child had what her parents called “made-up friends,” particularly a “spirit guide”-still with her-that she named “Francine.” Browne undergoes “trances” in which “Francine” provides alleged information from “Akashic records, individual spirit guides, and messages from the Godhead.” Browne also claims to see apparitions, talk to ghosts, have clairvoyant visions, make psychic medical diagnoses, divine past lives, etc. She has even started her own religion, Novus Spiritus (”New Spirit”); (Browne and May 1998; Browne 1999).

The use of psychics is a stock in trade of many so-called parapsychologists. Among them is Hans Holzer, one of whose many books bills him as “the world’s leading expert on haunted houses” (1991) while another avows that his “cases” were “carefully investigated under scientifically stringent conditions” (1993). Unfortunately, these claims are belied by Holzer’s credulous acceptance of “spirit” photos, anecdotal reports, and other doubtful evidence. For example, he “investigated” a former stagecoach inn at Thousand Oaks, California, by relying on self-styled “witch” Sybil Leek (1922-1982). In one room Leek “complained of being cold all over” and “felt” that a man had been murdered there. No verification was provided and Holzer admits she “did not connect” with a female ghost whose “presence” had been “sensed” by the inn’s owners. Nevertheless Holzer casually opines that “Like inns in general, this one may have more undiscovered ghosts hanging on the spot” (Holzer 1991, 192).

Fantasy Quotient

Professional psychics like Sybil Leek and Sylvia Browne aside, we may wonder whether ordinary “ghost” percipients also have similar tendencies toward fantasizing. Over nearly three decades of ghost investigating I have noticed a pattern. In interviewing residents or staff of an allegedly haunted site, I would usually find a few who had no ghostly experiences-for example a bell captain at La Fonda Inn in Santa Fe who had spent forty-three years there. Others might have moderate experiences-like hearing a strange noise or witnessing some unexplained physical occurrence such as a door mysteriously opening-that they attributed to a ghost. Often, those interviewed would direct me to one or more persons whom they indicated had had intensive haunting encounters, including seeing apparitions. In short, I usually found a spectrum that ranged from outright skepticism to mediumistic experiences. I also sensed a difference in the people: some appeared down-to-earth and level-headed, while others-I thought-seemed more imaginative and impulsive, recounting with dramatic flair their phantomesque adventures. I had no immediate way of objectively measuring what I thought I was observing, but I gave it much thought.

At length I developed a questionnaire that, on the one hand, measures the number and intensity of ghostly experiences, and, on the other, counts the number of exhibited traits associated with fantasy-proneness. Tabulation of a limited number of questionnaires administered thus far shows a strong correlation between these two areas-that, as the level of haunting experiences rises, the fantasy scale tends to show a similarly high score.

As this and other evidence indicates, to date there is no credible scientific evidence that inns-or any other sites-are inhabited by spirits of the dead. As Robert A. Baker often remarks, “There are no haunted places, only haunted people.”

References

• Baker, Robert A., and Joe Nickell. 1992. Missing Pieces. Buffalo, N.Y.: Prometheus Books.
• Browne, Sylvia, with Lindsay Harrison. 1999. The Other Side and Back. New York: Dutton.
• Browne, Sylvia, and Antoinette May. 1998. Adventures of a Psychic. Carlsbad, Calif.: Hay House.
• Emmons, E. Thayles. 1959. History of Belhurst Castle. The Geneva Times (Geneva, N.Y.), November 11.
• Gerbracht, Molly. 1997. Pre-interview notes for Discovery Channel special, ”America’s Haunted Houses” (in Nickell 1972-2000).
• Gibson, Benjamin S. 1999. Report on interview with then-current manager, March 29 (in Nickell 1972-2000).
• Green, Andrew. 1995. Haunted Inns and Taverns. Princes Risborough, Buckinghamshire, U.K.: Shire Publications.
• Haraldsson, E. 1988. Survey of claimed encounters with the dead. Omega: Journal of Death and Dying 19: 103-113.
• Hauck, Dennis William. 1996. Haunted Places: The National Directory. New York: Penguin.
• Holzer, Hans. 1991. America’s Haunted Houses. Stamford, Ct.: Longmeadow.
• --. 1993. America’s Restless Ghosts. Stamford, Ct.: Longmeadow.
• Klingel, Marion. 2000. Interview by author, May 3. (Also cited in Safiuddin 1994.)
• Linenfelser, Teddy. 2000. Current Grand Island historian, interview by author, May 8.
• MacKenzie, Andrew. 1982. Hauntings and Apparitions. London: Heinemann.
• Martin, John. 1999. Interview by author, June 25.
• Mason, John. 1999. Haunted Heritage. London: Collins and Brown, 60.
• Mead, Robin. 1995. Haunted Hotels: A Guide to American and Canadian Inns and Their Ghosts. Nashville, Tenn.: Rutledge Hill.
• Myers, Arthur. 1986. The Ghostly Register. Chicago: Contemporary.
• Nickell, Joe. 1972-2000. Case files for sites named in text. Except as otherwise noted this is the source for information in this article.
• --. 1995. Entities: Angels, Spirits, Demons and Other Alien Beings. Amherst, N.Y.: Prometheus.
• Safiuddin, Farrah. 1994. Ghostly guest refuses to check out of Grand Island haunt. Buffalo News, October 30.
• Sit, Mary. 1991. Maine’s friendly ghost. The Boston Sunday Globe (Travel section), October 27.
• Tyrrell, G.N.M. 1973. Apparitions. London: The Society for Psychical Research.
• Wilson, Sheryl C., and Theodore X. Barber. 1983. “The Fantasy-Prone Personality,” in A. A. Sheikh, ed., Imagery: Current Theory, Research and Application. New York: John Wiley & Sons.
• Winfield, Mason. 1997. Shadows of the Western Door. Buffalo, N.Y.: Western New York Wares.
• Wlodarski, Robert, Anne Nathan-Wlodarski, and Richard Senate. 1995. A Guide to the Haunted Queen Mary. Calabasas, Calif.: G-Host Publishing.