Flim-Flam! Psychics, ESP, Unicorns, and Other Delusions - James Randi [142]
We told Suzie that from the moment she entered the test room she would be under video surveillance, and she agreed to that. We asked if all was well—the "vibrations," the weather, the time of day, and so on—and she agreed that things were just dandy. She'd had a press conference in which she mentioned how nervous she was, and we wanted to eliminate that alibi as a reason for any failure that might be noted. But she assured us of her excellent state of mind, and we were all ready to go. After Suzie and her dad signed the agreement, we entered the test room.
A TV camera was perched on a tripod, its lens fixed on the marked-off table. Unfortunately an ABC-TV camera crew was there as well, and in spite of my admonitions not to block our camera setup they did so repeatedly, but fortunately not at any moment of import. The subsequent story was not used by ABC in a documentary they were preparing about the paranormal. The reason for this was not made clear, but I think that since Suzie failed utterly it was the kind of thing they call a "non-story." If she had been in any way successful, however, I suspect it would have been a prime-time special. That's the way it is in this business: The successes are glorified and the far more numerous failures and exposures are discarded.
A reel-to-reel videotape machine sat on the large table, off to one side. Psychologists Irving Biederman and Jim Pomerantz from the State University of New York at Buffalo were there, since we needed their careful observations and record keeping for future analysis of what we were about to see. Martin and I sat behind the chair in which Suzie would be seated, each to one side about five feet away. Several other people from the university were there to act as a subject pool for Suzie to choose from.
We questioned Suzie about her abilities. She said that she could name all the cards in a face-down deck "some of the time." We expressed dissatisfaction with the vagueness of this estimate, and she then estimated her success rate to be forty-eight out of fifty-two, on the average. Concerning several other feats that had been attributed to her in the newspapers, and which she mentioned in interviews, she gave similar estimates of success rates. But one demonstration, the stunt on the Carson show, was the one she said was her best. She was "almost invariably" successful with that one.
Briefly, the routine in question consists of her predicting, in writing, which card will be selected by someone else from a spread-out, facedown deck. In addition, the deck used is a new, shuffled deck not supplied by her. The choice is quite free, the prediction is written down well in advance, clearly and boldly, and the paper is retained by another person, not Suzie.
What you have just read is what the popular press has seen fit to use as a description of the Cottrell routine. It is quite correct—as far as it goes. As the reader will discover, there are a few "twists" involved that make it far less than convincing as a psychic marvel.
But back to the lab: While the videotape machine near her remained at the ready but not running, Suzie was told that she would be allowed to perform her special routine without any controls. But she also was made to understand that this would not be part of the test, only a warm-up. She agreed, but not until her father was ushered out of the room. He made her nervous, Suzie told us; the father averred that this was usually the case and that he was accustomed to being put out of the room when Suzie worked. There was a bit of chuckling at this comment, but Martin and I exchanged glances. Something was becoming rather evident; her method was a bit clearer.
We gave her a deck of cards. She noted that it was "plastic-covered" stock and said she didn't much like working with that kind of card. Immediately,