y first experience of apparently large-scale psychokinesis(PK)
occurred a long time before I knew anything about parapsychology.
The year was 1968, and I was in graduate school working toward
my Ph.D. in philosophy. I had no interest in parapsychology at
the time, and to the extent I had any solid philosophical views
at all I fancied to be a kind of hard-nosed materialist. That
wasn't because of any careful, sustained thought I had given to
the subject. It was merely a bit of semi-critical intellectual
posturing, something which I felt suited the person I believed
I ought to be.
t any rate, it was a slow afternoon in Northampton, Mass. (as
most afternoons in Northampton were apt to be), and two friends
stopped by my house just to hang out. Since we could think of
nothing else to do, they suggested that we hold a seance. Actually,
they never used the term seance they considered the
activity to be a game called table-up. My friends
said they had played the game several times before and that it
was fun and interesting. Although I was somewhat underwhelmed
at the proposal and suspicious of their prediction that the table
would move without normal assistance, I agreed to give table-up
a try. It was a slow afternoon, after all.
eating ourselves around a small folding table that I owned,
we placed our fingers lightly upon its surface and concentrated
silently on the command (and sometimes muttered softly), table-up!
To my astonishment, for the next three hours the table tilted
and nodded in response to questions, spelling out answers according
to an absurdly cumbersome code my friends had recommended. We
allegedly contacted three different entities, only one of whom
provided information which seemed possible to check out. That
communicator said his name was Horace T. Jecum (the spelling may
well have been botched in the use of our cumbersome code), and
he claimed to have built the house I was living in (a classic
and quite old New England home, built some time toward the end
of the eighteenth century). Compared to the assertions made by
the earlier communicators (especially the one claiming to be the
River Styx), I figured that the apparent piece of information
should be easy enough to confirm; all I had to do was to find
out the appropriate records at City Hall.
nfortunately, it turned out that my house was so old that it
antedated the city records. So I never found out who built the house,
and whether the person's name was anything like that of Horace T. Jecum.
f course, quite apart from the information allegedly conveyed
by means of table sitting, there remained the peculiar fact that
the table tilted for three hours. I doubt that I could describe
the event so as to quell all skeptical concerns. However, I will
say that I am personally convinced that my friends were not pulling
a trick on me. It was daylight; we were not under the influence
of legal or illicit substances; I knew my friends well, and they
were not given to practical jokes; the phenomena occurred for
a long time, allowing ample opportunity for inspection; I am convinced
that nothing but our fingers touched the table (and that they
rested lightly on its surface); and finally, even when one of
my friends left the table to go to another room, the table continued
to tilt and spell out answers to questions, rising under the fingers
of the two remaining sitters.
was so impressed by the phenomena that I resolved to deal with
it philosophically as soon as I had taken care of some grubby
practical concerns, such as receiving my Ph.D., landing a job,
and then getting tenure. Because I knew that my mentors and colleagues
would, for the most part, adopt a supercilious and condescending
attitude toward an interest in psychic stuff, I simply put the
whole matter on the back burner for about 8 years, until (as a
tenured professor) I had the academic freedom to pursue whatever
philosophical research I wanted.
ow, although the physical phenomena of table tilting are undoubtedly
interesting, what intrigues me most today about that episode in
my life is the strong visceral reaction I had to what I observed.
Not only did I experience alternating blasts of skepticism, puzzlement
and curiosity, the phenomena scared the hell out of me. But why
should I have felt such an intense fear? I didn't understand
my reaction at the time (although, characteristically, I was at
no loss for inadequate hypotheses). Now, however, I think I might
have a clue as to what was going on, and if I am right, it helps
explain why both the evidence for and the literature about PK
have certain outstanding peculiar features.
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