Flim-Flam! Psychics, ESP, Unicorns, and Other Delusions - James Randi [7]
McKee asked Bruno Colapietra, president of the Broome County Bar Association, for his opinion, and the following remarkable statement resulted. Said this worthy, "I think it is harmful to the dignity and traditions of the courts if it is allowed to be known." But, he added, it is not dangerous in itself "because experienced attorneys are not going to need psychics." He approved of using "psychics" if it is done "in an unobtrusive fashion." Does this imply that Robert Miller, the Public Defender who hit upon the brilliant idea of introducing a "psychic" into the Watkins Glen courtroom, is not experienced—or should it be assumed that he is merely naïve?
The local newspaper in Binghamton, the Evening Press, anxious not to offend Jordan's fans, ascribed the controversy that arose over this judicial stupidity to "some professional jealousy." A rather myopic commentary, but typical of Dark Ages thinking.
Lest you assume this situation is unique, consider the actions of Judge Leodis Harris of Cleveland's juvenile court system. This learned man was written up in a national magazine, Ebony, which proudly acclaimed the magistrate for taking a giant step forward in logic. According to the magazine, Judge Harris's court dispenses "good, hardnosed advice... and an occasional dose of astrology." The judge "reads a teenager's horoscope during court session before deciding how the youth will be reprimanded for his offense." The article noted that his "use of astrology has gone over big with colleagues as well as the offenders."
Harris was instantly converted to astrology, claimed Ebony, when he chanced upon the horoscope of a juvenile who was before his bench and decided that the negative part of it "described the kid to a tee!" He used it in court.
All of this reminds me of the movie version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, in which the accused was blindfolded and asked to reach out to two knives lying before her. She was to be judged guilty or innocent according to which she touched. Perhaps attorney Miller and Judge Harris would care to get together and perfect this technique. It certainly has as much going for it as astrology and aura-plotting. More, maybe.
Although Mr. Miller has never seen fit to answer my requests for his comments, Judge Harris wrote to me, finally, in response to my letters asking him to affirm or deny his use of astrology. He informed me that he has never used astrology in making his courtroom decisions. This certainly came as good news. Still, one wonders why Ebony ever said he did. More important, why did the judge refuse to answer my requests for confirmation or denial until my account was published in The Skeptical Inquirer, and did he not write to Ebony, asking the magazine to publish a retraction? No retraction ever appeared.
When I investigate so-called psychic wonders, Step One is to determine whether the actions of the performer are those of a conjurer involved in trickery. From this, a probable methodology is derived. Step Two is called Grabbing the Cheesecloth, a phrase taken from the procedure often used to expose fraudulent spirit séances: The exposer ends up clutching a handful of luminous cheesecloth—supposedly the spirit of the deceased—and the "medium" is well done. The difficulty is that the cheesecloth or other device used in the deception is not always obvious, and often not "grabbable." Sometimes the material evidence is no more than a tiny square of torn paper, a black nylon thread, or the tip of a ballpoint pen cemented into a paper tube. To the uninitiated, these articles mean nothing, but to the experienced investigator they may be everything.