Following the publication of Doyle’s second pro-Spiritualism book, the Sunday Express ran the headline in its book column, “Is Conan Doyle Mad?” So far as I am aware, no publication of comparable influence has been similarly blunt in connection with Doyle’s spiritual successor, Shirley MacLaine. It is understandable why “political correctness,” requiring more circumspect criticism, is not to everybody’s taste. Not faced with such constraints, the Express went on, “One does not trouble to analyze the ravings of a madman. One shrugs one’s shoulders, laughs, and forgets.” The more polite London Times, reviewing Doyle’s previous book, referred to Doyle’s “incredible naiveté,” while the Nation stated, “The book leaves one with a rather poor opinion of the doctor’s critical abilities” (169). And when even an investigator as incredibly gullible as J.B. Rhine (who went on to authenticate ESP in a horse) saw through one of Doyle’s pet mediums, Doyle placed a notice in the Boston newspapers, “J.B. Rhine is an Ass” (203).

Houdini was religiously conservative, even disowning one of his brothers for violating one of Leviticus’s sectarian taboos (218-219). And when he testified before a Congressional committee in support of an anti-fortune-telling bill, he said:

This is positively no attack upon a religion. Please understand that emphatically. I am not attacking a religion. . . . But this thing they call 'spiritualism,' wherein a medium intercommunicates with the dead, is a fraud from start to finish. There are only two kinds of mediums, those who are mental degenerates and who ought to be under observation, and those who are deliberate cheats and frauds. I would not believe a fraudulent medium under oath; perjury means nothing to them. . . . Millions of dollars are stolen every year in America, and the Government [has] never paid any attention to it, because they look upon it as a religion.

Substitute “televangelism” for “spiritualism,” and the obvious response is, “So what else is new?” And when Polidoro writes of a paranormal hoax exposed by Houdini, “It was a typical swindle, still used today by many self-claimed psychics, astrologers, and charlatans. By this means Reese had been able to gather sums of money from gullible people who, more often than not, were also learned men of science and culture,” the response is again, “So what else is new?”

I was surprised to learn that, while Conan Doyle was en route to Australia, some Australian Presbyterians held a prayer meeting to ask their sectarian god to prevent the proponent of an opposition religion (Spiritualism) from reaching their shores alive. A fringe cult in Vancouver in 1962 held a similar prayer meeting to petition that a stage hypnotist not be permitted to perform in their city. The god did not answer that request either.

Polidoro does not devote much space to Doyle’s authentication of the Cottingley fairies, other than to quote a couple of statements in which Doyle expressed his conviction that little girls do not lie. That little girls (and boys) are humankind’s most notorious liars was quite unknown to him.

On the question of whether Arthur Ford correctly identified the message Houdini had promised to communicate to his widow if he ever came back, Polidoro quotes enough statements from Bess Houdini to make clear that only her desperate desire to believe led her to an initial authentication of Ford’s claim. On sober reflection, she realized that Ford had simply picked up pre-published clues and capitalized on her willingness to believe that the message was what Houdini would have sent her if he had been able. It was not a message that he had pre-arranged to send her. Doyle, not surprisingly, was convinced that Ford had indeed communicated with Houdini, and no one could convince him otherwise.

Even after Houdini’s death, in a letter to Bess Houdini, Doyle reiterated his stubborn conviction that Houdini possessed the very powers he devoted his life to refuting, including an ability to dematerialize his body in order to pass through solid walls (225). In doing so, he foreshadowed the parapsychologists at George Washington University, St. Louis, who, after James Randi’s “Project Alpha” had exposed their gullibility by having them pronounce the illusions of two youthful conjurers as genuine psychic phenomena, actually asserted that Randi’s associates really were psychics who for some reason were now pretending to be magicians. Will believers in pseudoscience ever learn to distinguish between sense and nonsense, and face the reality that their superstitions have been as fully disproven as phlogiston and the planet Vulcan? Only if Barnum was wrong.

Much the same could be said for those of us toiling on behalf of science and reason and scientific skepticism. Paul Kurtz and CSICOP and many others in the skeptical movement have regularly been chided over the years for even raising the possibility that forces of unreason could actually threaten our modern democratic world, that opponents of reason, rationality, critical thinking, freedom, tolerance, openness, learning, and personal human and intellectual dignity might actually gain such a foothold as to be a threat to us all. I don't think anyone is saying that anymore.

We have long advocated not just good science but an open, scientific outlook-a viewpoint that values an open-mindedness to new ideas, a determination to let facts and evidence rather than wishes and preconceptions and ideology shape our judgments, skepticism toward assertions unsupported by good evidence, wide open debate and communication and publication, and the application of critical analysis and judgment at every step of the process.

Much of what we have critiqued has come under the rubric of the paranormal, of fringe science, of pseudoscience, of bogus science. Science is my passion, and all these represent anti-science or counter-science manifestations that confuse, taint, misdirect, delude, distract us all-but the believers most of all-from what the real world is all about. We no longer can indulge such distractions.

I think in the short term at least we are going to see less nonsense. Psychic abilities failed to warn us of the September 11 attacks, and now it should be clear to all but the most committed or muddle-headed that such powers just don't exist. The attacks were soon followed by bogus Nostradamus “predictions” and other inevitable clap-trap, but those were quickly countered by anti-hoax, urban legend Web sites and frequent media stories debunking the BS and giving the true facts. The new real world has less tolerance for pretense. When the first anthrax attacks came, people turned to modern medicine, not unfounded remedies. As Bob Park of the American Physical Society pointed out in his “What’s New” electronic newsletter, “Fortunately those exposed to anthrax are being diagnosed and treated with the very latest scientific medicine. They are not being treated with homeopathy, acupuncture, touch therapy, magnets, reflexology, crystals, chelation, craniosacral therapy, echinacea, aromatherapy, or yohimbe bark. And no one is complaining.”

Yes, shameless promoters emerged claiming that certain herbal remedies, even homeopathy, might help against anthrax. Yeah, sure! I will give those claims credence when the first person with a confirmed diagnosis of anthrax rejects any application of antibiotics and insists on taking herbs or homeopathy, as the only treatment, instead of (not in addition to) modern antibiotics. That’s the criterion we must hold that claim to.

So I think we now have, if only for a short time, a new era of no-nonsense. People know they have no choice but to confront the real world directly, on its own terms. There is no escape into a trivial, pretend world of nonexistent woo-woo.

I also want to offer a few words about the future of scientific skepticism and what might be called the modern skeptical movement. We celebrated our twenty-fifth anniversary this year. We are far from perfect and we have occasionally made mistakes, but I think CSICOP and the many scientists, psychologists, scholars, writers, and investigators worldwide who make up the movement have done, all in all, a remarkable job of defending science and scientific inquiry. They have critically examined virtually every important case asserting powers or forces “unknown to science.” They have helped educate the public and the media about what good science is all about. And they have helped keep alive, amid a media-driven frenzy of uncritical popular acceptance of outlandish nonsense plus postmodernist-driven obscurantism in too many parts of academia, the true scientific spirit toward claims of knowledge.

In my own twenty-fifth anniversary essays in the Skeptical Inquirer this past year (May/June and July August 2001), I made a number of recommendations for how to keep scientific skepticism strong, vital, and relevant for the twenty-first century. I'll mention only a few here:

• Continually emphasize what we are for: honesty, integrity, good science, clear thinking, intelligence, scientific literacy, science education, open scientific inquiry.
• Always strive to bring a scientific viewpoint-even an imaginative scientific viewpoint-to skepticism. Keep ourselves close to science. Science is exciting, intellectually stimulating, interesting, popular with the public, and all that can carry over to skeptical investigation.
• Treasure the imaginative/creative and the skeptical/evaluative aspects of science and keep them together, as they should be.

And now I'll add two more that I didn't mention in those essays:

• Fight, critique, and examine at all levels, but stay high-minded; keep the moral high ground. Paul Kurtz has exemplified that, and it must be continued.
• We must do everything possible to find and identify the next generation of leaders of the skeptical movement-bright, curious, intelligent, concerned young men and women knowledgeable about science and skepticism, concerned about unreason wherever it exists, and full of energy and determination to do all they can, in their own way, and able to communicate their passion to the broader public in all the diverse ways now available. I know many such people (some are working right now at or with CSICOP), but we need more, and they need encouragement from all of us.

The influence of both CSICOP and the Skeptical Inquirer has been significant. Both are widely referenced in scientific and scholarly publications as well as the popular media. CSICOP’s media outreach efforts provide responsible, authoritative scientific information and experts to media worldwide.

The controversy and media and public interest that accompanied our founding still surround almost everything we do. I believe that maintaining close ties to the values of science and scientific inquiry has guided us through and around the worst thickets and pitfalls.

In my view, our reputation for commitment to scientific skepticism, reason and rationality, critical thinking, and scientific integrity is stronger than ever. That serves us well. It serves science well. And serves the public well.

As we find ourselves in the early stages of a period of human history riddled with fearful new perils we hoped we would never have to face, our battles for clear, realistic thinking and against the forces of unreason-wherever they manifest themselves-are more important and more relevant today than ever before.

Though sightings of the North American Bigfoot date back to the 1830s (Bord 1982), interest in Bigfoot grew rapidly during the second half of the twentieth century. This was spurred on by many magazine articles of the time, most seminally a December 1959 True magazine article describing the discovery of large, mysterious footprints the year before in Bluff Creek, California.

A half century later, the question of Bigfoot’s existence remains open. Bigfoot is still sought, the pursuit kept alive by a steady stream of sightings, occasional photos or footprint finds, and sporadic media coverage. But what evidence has been gathered over the course of fifty years? And what conclusions can we draw from that evidence?

Most Bigfoot investigators favor one theory of Bigfoot’s origin or existence and stake their reputations on it, sniping at others who don't share their views. Many times, what one investigator sees as clear evidence of Bigfoot another will dismiss out of hand. In July 2000, curious tracks were found on the Lower Hoh Indian Reservation in Washington state. Bigfoot tracker Cliff Crook claimed that the footprints were “for sure a Bigfoot,” though Jeffrey Meldrum, an associate professor of biological sciences at Idaho State University (and member of the Bigfoot Field Research Organization, BFRO) decided that there was not enough evidence to pursue the matter (Big Disagreement Afoot 2000). A set of tracks found in Oregon’s Blue Mountains have also been the source of controversy within the community. Grover Krantz maintains that they constitute among the best evidence for Bigfoot, yet longtime researcher Rene Dahinden claimed that “any village idiot can see [they] are fake, one hundred percent fake” (Dennett 1994).

And while many Bigfoot researchers stand by the famous 16 mm Patterson film (showing a large manlike creature crossing a clearing) as genuine (including Dahinden, who shared the film’s copyright), others including Crook join skeptics in calling it a hoax. In 1999, Crook found what he claims is evidence in the film of a bell-shaped fastener on the hip of the alleged Bigfoot, evidence that he suggests may be holding the ape costume in place (Dahinden claimed the object is matted feces) (Hubbell 1999).

Regardless of which theories researchers subscribe to, the question of Bigfoot’s existence comes down to evidence- and there is plenty of it. Indeed, there are reams of documents about Bigfoot-filing cabinets overflowing with thousands of sighting reports, analyses, and theories. Photographs have been taken of everything from the alleged creature to odd tracks left in snow to twisted branches. Collections exist of dozens or hundreds of footprint casts from all over North America. There is indeed no shortage of evidence.

The important criterion, however, is not the quantity of the evidence, but the quality of it. Lots of poor quality evidence does not add up to strong evidence, just as many cups of weak coffee cannot be combined into a strong cup of coffee.

Bigfoot evidence can be broken down into four general types: eyewitness sightings, footprints, recordings, and somatic samples (hair, blood, etc.). Some researchers (notably Loren Coleman 1999) also place substantial emphasis on folklore and indigenous legends. The theories and controversies within each category are too complex and detailed to go into here. I present merely a brief overview and short discussion of each; anyone interested in the details is encouraged to look further.

1. Eyewitness Accounts

Eyewitness accounts and anecdotes comprise the bulk of Bigfoot evidence. This sort of evidence is also the weakest. Lawyers, judges, and psychologists are well aware that eyewitness testimony is notoriously unreliable. As Ben Roesch, editor of The Cryptozoological Review, noted in an article in Fortean Times, “Cryptozoology is based largely on anecdotal evidence. . . . [W]hile physical phenomena can be tested and systematically evaluated by science, anecdotes cannot, as they are neither physical nor regulated in content or form. Because of this, anecdotes are not reproducible, and are thus untestable; since they cannot be tested, they are not falsifiable and are not part of the scientific process. . . . Also, reports usually take place in uncontrolled settings and are made by untrained, varied observers. People are generally poor eyewitnesses, and can mistake known animals for supposed cryptids [unknown animals] or poorly recall details of their sighting. . . . Simply put, eyewitness testimony is poor evidence” (Roesch 2001).

Bigfoot investigators acknowledge that lay eyewitnesses can be mistaken, but counter that expert testimony should be given much more weight. Consider Coleman’s (1999) passage reflecting on expert eyewitness testimony: “[E]ven those scientists who have seen the creatures with their own eyes have been reluctant to come to terms with their observations in a scientific manner.” As an example he gives the account of “mycologist Gary Samuels” and his brief sighting of a large primate in the forest of Guyana. The implication is that this exacting man of science accurately observed, recalled, and reported his experience. And he may have. But Samuels is a scientific expert on tiny fungi that grow on wood. His expertise is botany, not identifying large primates in poor conditions. Anyone, degreed or not, can be mistaken.

2. Footprints

Bigfoot tracks are the most recognizable evidence; of course, the animal’s very name came from the size of the footprints it leaves behind. Unlike sightings, they are physical evidence: something (known animal, Bigfoot, or man) left the tracks. The real question is what the tracks are evidence of. In many cases, the answer is clear: they are evidence of hoaxing.

Contrary to many Bigfoot enthusiasts’ claims, Bigfoot tracks are not particularly consistent and show a wide range of variation (Dennett 1996). Some tracks have toes that are aligned, others show splayed toes. Most alleged Bigfoot tracks have five toes, but some casts show creatures with two, three, four, or even six toes (see figure 1). Surely all these tracks can't come from the same unknown creature, or even species of creatures.

Not all prints found are footprints, though. In September 2000, a team of investigators from the Bigfoot Field Research Organization led an expedition near Mt. Adams in Washington state, finding the first Bigfoot “body print,” which-if authentic-is arguably the most significant find in the past two decades. The Bigfoot, according to the team, apparently made the impression when it laid on its side at the edge of a muddy bank and reached over to grab some bait. This of course raises the question as to why the animal would make such an odd approach to the food, instead of simply walking over to it and taking it. As the log of the expedition reads, “One explanation is immediately apparent-the animal did not want to leave tracks. . . .” (BFRO 2000). This explanation fails on its own logic: If the Bigfoot (or whatever it was) was so concerned about not leaving traces of its presence, why did it then leave a huge fifteen-square-foot imprint in the mud for the team to find? (1)

3. Recordings

Figure 2. A frame from the film shot by Roger Patterson in Bluff Creek, California in 1967. The subject is said to be a female Bigfoot.

The most famous recording of an alleged Bigfoot is the short 16 mm film taken in 1967 by Roger Patterson and Bob Gimlin. Shot in Bluff Creek, California, it shows a Bigfoot striding through a clearing (see figure 2). In many ways the veracity of the Patterson film is crucial, because the casts made from those tracks are as close to a gold standard as one finds in cryptozoology. Many in the Bigfoot community are adamant that the film is not-and, more important-cannot be a hoax. The question of whether the film is in fact a hoax or not is still open, but the claim that the film could not have been faked is demonstrably false.

Grover Krantz, for example, admits that the size of the creature in the film is well within human limits, but argues that the chest width is impossibly large to be human. “I can confidently state that no man of that stature is built that broadly,” he claims (Krantz 1992, 118). This assertion was examined by two anthropologists, David Daegling and Daniel Schmitt (1999), who cite anthropometric literature showing the “impossibly wide” chest is in fact within normal human variation. They also disprove claims that the Patterson creature walks in a manner impossible for a person to duplicate.

The film is suspect for a number of reasons. First, Patterson told people he was going out with the express purpose of capturing a Bigfoot on camera. In the intervening thirty-five years (and despite dramatic advances in technology and wide distribution of handheld camcorders), thousands of people have gone in search of Bigfoot and come back empty-handed (or with little but fuzzy photos). Second, a known Bigfoot track hoaxer claimed to have told Patterson exactly where to go to see the Bigfoot on that day (Dennett 1996). Third, Patterson made quite a profit from the film, including publicity for a book he had written on the subject and an organization he had started.

Figure 3. Bigfoot allegedly photographed on July 11, 1995 by forest patrol officer at Wild Creek in Mount Ranier foothills, WA State.

In his book Bigfoot, John Napier, an anatomist and anthropologist who served as the Smithsonian Institution’s director of primate biology, devotes several pages to close analysis of the Patterson film (pp. 89-96; 215-220). He finds many problems with the film, including that the walk and size is consistent with a man’s; the center of gravity seen in the subject is essentially that of a human; and the step length is inconsistent with the tracks allegedly taken from the site. Don Grieve, an anatomist specializing in human gait, came to the conclusion that the walk was essentially human in type and could be made by a modern man. Napier writes that “there is little doubt that the scientific evidence taken collectively points to a hoax of some kind.”

Other films and photos of creatures supposed to be Bigfoot have appeared, perhaps best-known among them the Wild Creek photos allegedly purchased by Cliff Crook of Bigfoot Central from an anonymous park ranger (see figure 3).

Bigfoot Voices

One of the more interesting bits of “evidence” offered for the existence of Bigfoot is sound recordings of vocalizations. One company, Sierra Sounds, markets a CD called “The Bigfoot Recordings: The Edge of Discovery.” Narrated by Jonathan Frakes (an actor who also narrated a special on the infamous “Alien Autopsy” hoax), the recording claims to have captured vocalizations among a Bigfoot family. The sounds are a series of guttural grunts, howls, and growls.

The Web site and liner notes offer testimonials by “expert” Nancy Logan. Logan, their “linguist,” apparently has little or no actual training (or degree) in linguistics. Her self-described credentials include playing the flute, speaking several languages, and having “a Russian friend [who] thinks I'm Russian.” Logan confidently asserts that the tapes are not faked, and that the vocal range is too broad to be made by a human. She suggests that the Bigfoot language shows signs of complexity, possibly including profanities: “On one spot of the tape, an airplane goes by and they seem to get very excited and not very happy about it. Maybe those are Sasquatch swear words.”

Here’s what Krantz writes about Bigfoot recordings: “One... tape was analyzed by some university sound specialists who determined that a human voice could not have made them; they required a much longer vocal tract. A sasquatch investigator later asked one of these experts if a human could imitate the sound characteristics by simply cupping his hands around his mouth. The answer was yes” (Krantz 1992, 134). As for other such recordings, Krantz has “listened to at least ten such tapes and find[s] no compelling reason to believe that any of them are what the recorders claimed them to be” (133).

4. Somatic Samples

Hair and blood samples have been recovered from alleged Bigfoot encounters. As with all the other evidence, the results are remarkable for their inconclusiveness. When a definite conclusion has been reached, the samples have invariably turned out to have prosaic sources-"Bigfoot hair” turns out to be elk, bear, or cow hair, for example, or suspected “Bigfoot blood” is revealed to be transmission fluid. Even advances in genetic technology have proven fruitless. Contrary to popular belief, DNA cannot be derived from hair samples alone; the root (or some blood) must be available.

In his book Big Footprints, Grover Krantz (1992) discusses evidence for Bigfoot other than footprints, including hair, feces, skin scrapings, and blood: “The usual fate of these items is that they either receive no scientific study, or else the documentation of that study is either lost or unobtainable. In most cases where competent analyses have been made, the material turned out to be bogus or else no determination could be made” (125). He continues, “A large amount of what looks like hair has been recovered from several places in the Blue Mountains since 1987. Samples of this were examined by many supposed experts ranging from the FBI to barbers. Most of these called it human, the Redkin Company found significant differences from human hair, but the Japan Hair Medical Science Lab declared it a synthetic fiber. A scientist at [Washington State] University first called it synthetic, then looked more closely and decided it was real hair of an unknown type. . . . Final confirmation came when E.B. Winn, a pharmaceutical businessman from Switzerland, had a sample tested in Europe. The fiber was positively identified as artificial and its exact composition was determined: it is a prod- uct known commercially as Dynel, which is often used as imitation hair.” In his analysis, Winn (1991) noted that another alleged Bigfoot sign found at the site, tree splintering, had also been faked.

Hoaxes, the Gold Standard, and the Problem of Experts

Such hoaxes have permanently and irreparably contaminated Bigfoot research. Skeptics have long pointed this out, and many Bigfoot researchers freely admit that their field is rife with fraud. This highlights a basic problem underlying all Bigfoot research: the lack of a standard measure. For example, we know what a bear track looks like; if we find a track that we suspect was left by a bear, we can compare it to one we know was left by a bear. But there are no undisputed Bigfoot specimens by which to compare new evidence. New Bigfoot tracks that don't look like older samples are generally not taken as proof that one (or both) sets are fakes, but instead that the new tracks are simply from a different Bigfoot, or from a different species or family. This unscientific lack of falsifiability plagues other areas of Bigfoot research as well.

Bigfoot print hoaxing is a time-honored cottage industry. Dozens of people have admitted making Bigfoot prints. One man, Rant Mullens, revealed in 1982 that he and friends had carved giant Bigfoot tracks and used them to fake footprints as far back as 1930 (Dennett 1996). In modern times it is easier to get Bigfoot tracks. With the advent of the World Wide Web and online auctions, anyone in the world can buy a cast of an alleged Bigfoot print and presumably make tracks that would very closely match tracks accepted by some as authentic.

What we have, then, are new tracks, hairs, and other evidence being compared to known hoaxed tracks, hairs, etc. as well as possibly hoaxed tracks, hairs, etc. With sparse hard evidence to go on and no good standard by which to judge new evidence, it is little wonder that the field is in disarray and has trouble proving its theories. In one case, Krantz claimed as one of the gold standards of Bigfoot tracks a print that “passed all my criteria, published and private, that distinguishes sasquatch tracks from human tracks and from fakes” (Krantz 1992). He further agreed that it had all the signs of a living foot, and that no human foot could have made the imprint. Michael R. Dennett, investigating for the Skeptical Inquirer, tracked down the anonymous construction worker who supplied the Bigfoot print. The man admitted faking the tracks himself to see if Krantz could really detect a fake (Dennett 1994).

Krantz certainly isn't alone in his mistaken identifications. One of the biggest names in cryptozoology, Ivan Sanderson, was badly fooled by tracks he confidently proclaimed would be impossible to fake. In 1948 (and for a decade afterward), giant three-toed footprints were found along the beach in Clearwater, Florida. Sanderson, described as a man who “was extremely knowledgeable on many subjects, and had done more fieldwork than most zoologists do today” (Greenwell 1988), spent two weeks at the site of the tracks investigating, analyzing the tracks, and consulting other experts. He concluded that the tracks were made by a fifteen-foot-tall penguin.

In 1988, prankster Tony Signorini admitted he and a friend had made the tracks with a pair of cast iron feet attached to high-top black sneakers. J. Richard Greenwell, discussing the case in The ISC Newsletter (Winter 1988), summed the case up this way: “The lesson to be learned within cryptozoology is, of course, fundamental. Despite careful, detailed analyses by zoologists and engineers, which provided detailed and sophisticated mechanical and anatomical conclusions supporting the hypothesis of a real animal, we now see that, not only was the entire episode a hoax, but that it was perpetrated by relatively amateur, good-natured pranksters, not knowledgeable experts attempting, through their expertise, to fool zoological authorities.”

The experts, however are only partly to blame for their repeated and premature proclamations of the authenticity of Bigfoot evidence. After all, other areas of science are not fraught with such deception and hoaxing; in physics and biology, light waves and protozoa aren't trying to trick their observers.

Even when there is no intentional hoaxing, “experts” have been fooled. In March 1986, Anthony Wooldridge, an experienced hiker in the Himalayas, saw what he thought was a Yeti (Himalayan Bigfoot) standing in the snow near a ridge about 500 feet away. He described the figure as having a head that was “large and squarish,” and the body “seemed to be covered with dark hair.” It didn't move or make noise, but Wooldridge saw odd tracks in the snow that seemed to lead toward the figure. He took two photos of the creature, which were later analyzed and shown to be genuine and undoctored. Many in the Bigfoot community seized upon the Wooldridge photos as clear evidence of a Yeti, including John Napier. Many suggested that because of his hiking experience it was unlikely Wooldridge made a mistake. The next year researchers returned to the spot and found that Wooldridge had simply seen a rock outcropping that looked vertical from his position. Wooldridge admitted his misidentification (Wooldridge 1987).

Smoke and Fire

Bigfoot researchers readily admit that many sightings are misidentifications of normal animals, while others are downright hoaxes. Diane Stocking, a curator for the BFRO, concedes that about 70 percent of sightings turn out to be hoaxes or mistakes (Jasper 2000); Loren Coleman puts the figure even higher, at at least 80 percent (Klosterman 1999). The remaining sightings, that small portion of reports that can't be explained away, intrigue researchers and keep the pursuit active. The issue is then essentially turned into the claim that “Where there’s smoke there’s fire.”

But is that really true? Does the dictum genuinely hold that, given the mountains of claims and evidence, there must be some validity to the claims? I propose not; the evidence suggests that there are enough sources of error (bad data, flawed methodological assumptions, mistaken identifications, poor memory recall, hoaxing, etc.) that there does not have to be (nor is likely to be) a hidden creature lurking amid the unsubstantiated cases.

The claim also has several inherent assumptions, including the notion that the unsolved claims (or sightings) are qualitatively different from the solved ones. But paranormal research and cryptozoology are littered with cases that were deemed irrefutable evidence of the paranormal, only to fall apart upon further investigation or hoaxer confessions. There will always be cases in which there simply is not enough evidence to prove something one way or the other. To use an analogy borrowed from investigator Joe Nickell, just because a small percentage of homicides remain unsolved doesn't mean that we invoke a “homicide gremlin"-appearing out of thin air to take victims’ lives-to explain the unsolved crimes. It is not that such cases are unexplainable using known science, just that not enough (naturalistic) information is available to make a final determination.

A lack of information (or negative evidence) cannot be used as positive evidence for a claim. To do so is to engage in the logical fallacy of arguing from ignorance: We don't know what left the tracks or what the witnesses saw, therefore it must have been Bigfoot. Many Bigfoot sightings report “something big, dark, and hairy.” But Bigfoot is not the only (alleged) creature that matches that vague description.

The Future for Bigfoot

Ultimately, the biggest problem with the argument for the existence of Bigfoot is that no bones or bodies have been discovered. This is really the 800-pound Bigfoot on the researchers’ backs, and no matter how they explain away the lack of other types of evidence, the simple fact remains that, unlike nearly every other serious “scientific” pursuit, they can't point to a live or dead sample of what they're studying. If the Bigfoot creatures across the United States are really out there, then each passing day should be one day closer to their discovery. The story we're being asked to believe is that thousands of giant, hairy, mysterious creatures are constantly eluding capture and discovery and have for a century or more. At some point, a Bigfoot’s luck must run out: one out of the thousands must wander onto a freeway and get killed by a car, or get shot by a hunter, or die of natural causes and be discovered by a hiker. Each passing week and month and year and decade that go by without definite proof of the existence of Bigfoot make its existence less and less likely.

On the other hand, if Bigfoot is instead a self-perpetuating phenomenon with no genuine creature at its core, the stories, sightings, and legends will likely continue unabated for centuries. In this case the believers will have all the evidence they need to keep searching-some of it provided by hoaxers, others perhaps by honest mistakes, all liberally basted with wishful thinking. Either way it’s a fascinating topic. If Bigfoot exist, then the mystery will be solved; if they don't exist, the mystery will endure. So far it has endured for at least half a century.

Notes

1. The way in which the track was discovered raises questions as well. The expedition log gives an account of how “[Team member Richard] Noll notices an unusual impression in the transition mud at the edge of the wallow and suddenly figures out what caused it. [Team members] Fish and Randles note the shock on Noll’s face and come over to have another look at what he’s examining. The three observe and note the various parts of the impression, and the chunks of chewed apple core nearby. The base camp is alerted. Everyone comes to see the impression. All conclude the animal was laying on its side at the edge of the mud, reaching out over the soft mud to grab the fruit” (BFRO 2000). So what you have is a case where a group of people are looking for evidence of a Bigfoot. One observer believes he sees a pattern fitting what he’s looking for in ambiguous stimuli (shapes in mud). Once the pattern is pointed out to others, they also agree that the pattern could match up to parts of a hominid form in a particular contortion. The rest of the group, who might never have decided on their own that the pattern fits a Bigfoot, then validate the initial observer’s (possibly unwarranted) conclusion. This happens all the time, for example when a person recognizes a face or an image in clouds or stains or tortillas. As psychologists know, observers’ expectations frequently color their interpretations.

References

• Baird, D. 1989. Sasquatch footprints: A proposed method of fabrication. Cryptozoology 8: 43-46.
• Betts, J. 1996. Wanted: Dead or alive. Fortean Times 93: 34-35, December.
• BFRO. 2000. Account of the expedition. Bigfoot Field Research Organization. Available at www.bfro.net.
• Big Disagreement Afoot. 2000. Associated Press report on ABCnews.com.
• Bord, J., and Colin Bord. 1982. The Bigfoot Casebook. Harrisburg (Pa.): Stackpole Books.
• Coleman, L. 1996. Footage furore flares. Fortean Times 91, October.
• 1998. Suits you, sir! Fortean Times 106, January.
• Coleman, L., and P. Huyghe. 1999. The Field Guide to Bigfoot, Yeti, and Other Mystery Primates Worldwide. New York: Avon Books.
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There have been many conferences recently discussing the relationship between science and religion. The Templeton Foundation, for example, has supported numerous conferences on this theme. Many of those participating in these discussions apparently assume that science and religion are compatible. They argue that there is no contradiction between them, and some even maintain that science confirms the basic principles of religious faith. I suspect that most of the participants of this conference, made up predominantly of skeptics and nontheists, do not agree.

There are many areas where religionists and scientists make radically different truth claims. Some of them are:

1. Does the soul or consciousness exist, as a separate and distinct entity; or is it a function of the brain?
2. Does science provide evidence for “intelligent design,” or does evolutionary biology suffice without it?
3. Is it possible to influence the healing of persons by praying for them at a distance, or are the tests performed completely unreliable?
4. Is there empirical evidence for the claim that “near-death experiences” enable us to reach “the other side,” or are there alternative physiological and psychological explanations for these experiences?
5. Can mediums under certain conditions communicate with deceased persons, or are the protocols of such tests too loose?
6. Does the Big Bang hypothesis in astronomy point to God as the cause of the universe, or is the latter claim beyond science and purely speculative?

In dealing with the above topics various questions emerge: Are coherent theories and testable hypotheses presented? If so, what is the evidence for them? Do paranormal- spiritual-religious explanations survive critical scrutiny?

Skeptics have focused on the examination of paranormal claims. They do not deal with religious claims per se, unless they can be examined empirically. Secular humanists, on the other hand, do wish to deal with religious claims, testing them as best they can. Interestingly, in recent years the borderlines between the paranormal and religion have blurred and it is often difficult to tell when we are dealing with paranormal or religious phenomena. Thus spiritualism, near-death experiences, and communication with dead people interest both paranormal and religious investigators. Similarly for the appeal to intelligent design-a classical philosophical argument-now introduced within evolutionary biology and cosmology.

I have proposed that we use the term paranatural to refer to religious claims that are capable of some empirical resolution and are not transcendental or supernatural. In this sense they are similar to testable paranormal claims.

A good example of the overlap is in the popular belief that mysterious intelligent and beneficent extraterrestrial beings are visiting earthlings and floating them aboard spaceships. This is a quasi-religious phenomenon reminiscent of angels, and other divine or semi-divine beings of earlier ages. The disappearance of the Roswell aliens is not unlike the empty tomb of the New Testament!

In order to analyze the relationship between science and religion, we need to define and characterize each domain. Many consider that religion offers a special kind of higher spiritual truth. They maintain that there are two truths: (1) the truths of science, employing the methods of scientific inquiry, and testing claims empirically, rationally, and experimentally; and (2) the truths of religion, which transcend the categories of empirical fact and logic. Skeptics are rightly dubious of this latter claim.

The most reliable methods, they insist, are those that satisfy the objective standards of verification and justification. The historic claims of revelation in the ancient sacred texts are insufficiently corroborated by reliable eyewitnesses or are based upon questionable oral traditions. These were compiled many decades, even centuries, after the alleged death of the prophets. Many miraculous claims found in the Bible and the Koran-for example, the claims of healings and exorcisms, within the New Testament or the creationist account in the Old Testament-are unreliable. They express the primitive science of an ancient nomadic and agricultural people, and do not withstand contemporary scientific scrutiny.

Unfortunately, some proponents of the historic religions have often used their creeds in order to block or censor scientific inquiry. Freedom of inquiry within science is essential for human civilization; any effort to limit scientific research is counterproductive.

A good illustration of this is the present effort of some to restrict embryonic stem-cell research on moral or religious grounds. It is argued that if a cell begins to divide, even if only six or eight cells, that a “soul” of a person is already implanted, and that any effort to experiment with this is “immoral.” The postulation of a soul to prohibit scientific inquiry is reminiscent of the suppression of Galileo and the teaching of Darwinism. Thus insofar as religion claims to provide some overall imprimatur for scientific research we need a separation of religion and science.

A second area concerns the relationship between science and morality. I raise this question here because many people think that the main function of religion is moral. Stephen Jay Gould in the Skeptical Inquirer talked about two magisteria, science and religion, which he says do not compete and do not contradict each other¹. The domain of science, deals with truth, he says, that of religion with ethics. I think that this position is mistaken. Indeed I would argue that there also ought to be a separation between ethics and religion. Religionists have no special competence in framing moral judgments. I say this because a great effort has been expended in the history of ethics-from Aristotle to Spinoza, Kant, John Stuart Mill, and John Dewey-to demonstrate that ethics can be autonomous and that it is possible to frame ethical judgments on the basis of rational inquiry. There is a logic of judgments of practice, rules of effective decision-making, and ethical knowledge that we can develop quite independently of a religious framework. Science has a role to play here, for it can expand the means at our disposal (technology), and it can modify value judgments in the light of the facts of the case and their consequences. Many people today mistakenly believe that you cannot be moral without religious foundations. Ever since the Renaissance, the secularization of morality has continued quite independently of religious commandments.

A third area which has been hotly debated in the modern world is the relationship between religion and the state. Most democrats today defend the separation of religion and the state; they say that, though religionists have every right to express their point of view in the public square, religion should be primarily a private matter. Religions should not seek to impose their fundamental moral principles on the entire society. Democratic states should be neutral about professing religious principles.

What then is the proper domain of religion? Is anything left to religion? My answer is in the affirmative. This may surprise skeptics, but I think that religion and science are compatible, depending of course on what is meant by religion. Religion has performed an important function that cannot be simply dismissed. Religions will continue with us in the foreseeable future and will not easily wither away. No doubt my thesis is controversial: religious language, I submit, is not primarily descriptive; nor is it prescriptive. The descriptive and explanatory functions of language are within the domain of science; the prescriptive and normative are the function of ethics. Both of these domains, science and ethics, have a kind of autonomy. Certainly within the political domain, religionists do not have any special competence, similarly for the moral domain. It should be left to every citizen of a democracy to express his or her political views. Likewise, for the developing moral personality who is able to render moral judgments.

If this is the case, what is appropriate for the religious realm? The domain of the religious, I submit, is evocative, expressive, emotive. It presents moral poetry, aesthetic inspiration, performative ceremonial rituals, which act out and dramatize the human condition and human interests, and seek to slake the thirst for meaning and purpose. Religions-at least the religions of revelation-deal in parables, narratives metaphors, stories, myths; and they frame the divine in human (anthropomorphic) form. They express the existential yearnings of individuals endeavoring to cope with the world that they encounter and find meaning in the face of death. Religious language in this sense is eschatological. Its primary function is to express hope. If science gives us truth, morality the good and the right, and politics justice, religion is the realm of promise and expectation. Its main function is to overcome despair and hopelessness in response to human tragedy, adversity and conflict, the brute, inexplicable, contingent and fragile facts of the human condition. Under this interpretation religions are not primarily true, nor are they primarily good or right, or even just; they are, if you will, evocative, attempting to transcend contrition, fear, anxiety, and remorse, providing balm for the aching heart-at least for many people, if not all.

I would add to this the fact that religious systems of belief, thought, emotion, and attitude are products of the creative human imagination. They traffic in fantasy and fiction, taking the promises of long-forgotten historical figures and endowing them with eternal cosmic significance.

The role of creative imagination, fantasy, and fiction, should not be dismissed. These are among the most powerful expressions of human dreams and hopes, ideals and longings. Who could have imagined that J.K. Rowlings’s Harry Potter series of fictionalized books or J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings would so entrance young people, or that so many humans would be so fascinated by fictionalized novels, movies, and plays. The creative religious imagination weaves tales of consolation and of expectation. They are dramatic expressions of human longing, enabling humans to overcome grief and depression.

In the above interpretation of religion as dramatic existentialist poetry, science and religion are not necessarily incompatible, for they address different human interests and needs.

A special challenge to naturalism emerges at this point. I think that most of us might agree that methodological naturalism is the basic epistemological principle of the sciences; namely, that we should seek natural causal explanations for phenomena, testing these by the methods of science. Scientific naturalism, on the other hand, goes beyond this, because it rejects as nonevidential the postulation of occult metaphors, the invoking of divine forces, spirits, ghosts, or souls to explain the universe; and it tries to deal in materialistic, physical-chemical, or non-reductive naturalistic explanations. The frenzied opposition to Darwinism today is clearly based upon fear that scientific naturalism will undermine religious faith.

If this is the case, the great challenge to scientific naturalism is not in the area of truth but of hope, not of the good but of promise, not of the just but of expectation-in the light of the tragic character of the human condition. This is in stark contrast with the findings of neo-Darwinism, which recognizes that death is final, not simply the death of each individual but the possible extinction some day in the remote future of the human species itself. Evolutionists have discovered that millions of species have become extinct. Does not the same fate await the human species? Cosmological scientists indicate that at some point it seems likely that our Sun will cool down, indeed, looking into the future, that a Big Crunch may overtake the entire universe. Others talk about a deep freeze. Some star trekkers are inspired by science fiction. They say that one day perhaps we will leave Earth, inhabit other planets and galaxies. Nonetheless at some point the death not only of the individual, but of our species, our planet and solar system seems likely.

What does this portend for the ultimate human condition? We live in an epoch where the dimensions of the universe have expanded enormously on the micro and on the macro level. We are talking about billions of light years in dimension. Much of this is based on speculative extrapolation. Nonetheless, we can ask, Does the naturalistic picture crush human aspiration? Does it destroy and undermine hope? Does it provide sufficient consolation for the human spirit? From this perspective, the central issue for humans is the question of human courage. Can we live a full life in the face of ultimate human extinction? These are large-scale questions, yet they are central for the religious consciousness. Can scientific naturalism, insofar as it undermines theism, provide an alternative dramatic, poetic rendering of the human condition, offering hope, and promise? Countless numbers of brave individuals can live significant lives and even thrive accepting the possible far death of the species and our solar system. But so many other humans-perhaps the bulk of humankind-cannot bear that thought. They crave immortality, and religion satisfies their need. Many others do not stay awake nights worrying what will happen five, ten, or fifteen billion years from now. They find life worthwhile for its own sake here and now.

In conclusion, let me say that we are living through a period of exacerbated religiosity in the United States. There seems to be a new spiritual paradigm emerging, contesting both scientific and methodological naturalism. The United States is an anomaly in this regard, especially in contrast with the decline of religious belief in Europe. Recent scientific polls of belief in European countries-France, Germany, England, and others, even Japan-indicate that the level of belief in a theistic being and the institutionalized practice of organized religion have declined considerably; yet these highly secular societies exemplify good moral behavior, and are far less violent than the United States. The view that without religion you cannot have a meaningful life or high motivation is thus thrown into question. We should not take the current religious bias regnant in America today as necessarily universal for all cultures.

Notes

1. Gould, Stephen J. 1999. “Non-Overlapping Magisteria.” Skeptical Inquirer July/August 23(4).