Talking to an Intelligent Black Box
HOW SCIENCE FICTION SOMETIMES PROVIDES A KEY TO REALITY
Is it possible that you and I can learn to communicate consciously with the G.O.D. process? And may we be able to teach others to do the same?
Since each of us is an intrinsic part of the universe, aren’t we all part of the G.O.D. process? Since I am personally part of the process—as are you—is it possible that I can personally discover what this intelligent process is, at least to some degree?
I can’t know unless I ask. And you can’t know until you ask, either. We must each be willing to ask if we are to receive.
A WORD OF CAUTION
The problem is, it’s easy to fool ourselves. In fact, as a species we are masters at this. Psychologists are trained to understand the many tricks the human mind can play on itself, including the creation of:
Illusory correlates—when we imagine relationships that do not exist
Self-deceptions—when we deceive ourselves and ignore evidence that contradicts our beliefs
Confirmation biases—when we mistakenly find support for the things we believe must be true
False memories—when we inaccurately remember details of something that happened, or think we remember something that did not actually happen
The list of what psychologists call “cognitive distortions” is extensive and the research literature keeps expanding within the areas of cognitive and social psychology.
Not surprisingly, psychologists are among the most conservative of scientists when it comes to openness about what might be termed “anomalous” communication—meaning communication that deviates from what is believed to be possible or what is expected. This is especially true of purported communication with spirits—precisely because scientists know how easy it is to be fooled by one’s own mind.
And the same holds true for the highly skeptical attitude of many psychologists toward the G.O.D. process.
I was fortunate to have received excellent training in cognitive biases and distortions in my graduate education as a research psychologist, including an especially valuable graduate course in psychopathology with Professor Loren Chapman. It was Chapman who, while at the University of Wisconsin, discovered and coined the term “illusory correlate phenomenon.” And I was blessed to have Professor Robert Rosenthal, the father of research on “experimenter effects” (inadvertent experimenter errors), on my dissertation committee at Harvard.
For these reasons, I’m vastly more mindful than the average person, and even considerably more aware than the average scientist, when it comes to understanding the need to be extremely cautious about collecting and interpreting psychological data, especially data provided from one’s own mind and from one’s own subjective experience.
I was also proficiently trained as a clinical psychologist at Harvard. I learned about schizophrenia and hallucinations, mania and delusions, multiple-personality disorder, and dissociation. I deeply respect the pressing need to be vigilant for the possibility of psychopathology, especially when it comes to the claim that someone, including myself, is having “conversations with the universe.”
So why am I about to commit to print some of my initial personal experiments in attempting to communicate with the hypothesized G.O.D. process?
There are three reasons:
Reason 1. As indicated in places earlier in this book, there is good scientific reason for predicting that communicating with a G.O.D. process is plausible. If it is theoretically plausible, and if it is supported by experimental evidence, it is important to acknowledge these facts.
Reason 2. As long as the information obtained is received with caution and humility—with full awareness of the limitations of my mind, including my inherent capacity to fool myself—it is possible, in principle, to obtain meaningful and even accurate information.
Reason 3. Evidence for a genuine spiritual reality is currently being observed and documented by contemporary research on survival of consciousness. Some of these findings are covered in my previous books, The Afterlife Experiments and The Truth about “Medium.” So, in principle it seems, all people have the potential to explore a larger spiritual reality. Therefore as a professional scientist I am obliged to be among the pioneers and the explorers. It is always valuable for a scientist to be a subject in his own research. Ultimately there is no substitute for direct experience.
Before describing my efforts, I first want to review the plausibility of communicating with “the Source,” and to show the way systems science predicts not only that this is plausible but that it is probable.
IS THE “ALL” WITHIN THE “SMALL”?—AN INTRODUCTION TO SYSTEMS SCIENCE
The branch of science known as systems science teaches that there is a universal principle of the micro (the little) being contained within the macro (the big). This is because systems are composed of smaller parts (termed subsystems) and are simultaneously components of larger units (suprasystems).
For example, in multicelled organisms (which are one type of a system), individual cells (tiny subsystems) are contained within the body (which compared in size to individual cells can be huge, especially when the body contains trillions of cells). And individual organisms are part of larger suprasystems, from families to ecosystems and beyond.
The subsystem/system/suprasystem organizational structure extends from subatomic particles to the universe as a whole. Stated simply, the Small is in the All. However, systems science also teaches us the less obvious fact that the reverse can also be true—the All is in the Small. This is not only semantically true—the word “all” is literally in “small”—but it is organizationally and empirically true, too.
In the case of the body, for example, every cell is nourished by the blood; the energy, and all the chemicals and other materials within the body, are mixed within this living liquid to various degrees. And this goes further; it’s not just materials and energy that are carried by the blood. Bioelectromagnetic information and energy signals—generated by every cell and carried by bioelectromagnetic fields—also circulate in the bloodstream, by means of what is termed “volume conduction.” The resulting info-energy-material mixture, the “whole” of the blood—which contains the All of the body—is continuously circulated back to every cell within the body. This realization is similar to the concept of the hologram, where the All (the holo) is optically embedded within the Small.
The word “mixture” here may remind you of our earlier discussion in Part II. Recall what happens when a selective organizing process is not operative, and things simply mix. In physics this is called the Second Law of Thermodynamics. Systems science suggests the possibility that a higher purpose exists for the second law in an intelligently designed, evolving universe: that it has the purpose of fostering a universal mixing process which operates at every level. And the reasoning is straightforward. Universal mixing insures that sharing, interconnecting, and creating of wholes occurs at all levels in the universe. Simply stated, universal mixing insures not only that the All will continue to exist (in the Small) at all levels, but that it will continue to evolve at all levels as well.
“AS BELOW, SO ABOVE”
Another well-known phrase, “As above, so below,” proposes that patterns existing at macro levels can also be observed at more micro levels. In religious terms this is usually interpreted to mean that what happens in “heaven” can happen on earth, a supposed phenomenon sometimes called “heaven on earth.”
What systems science teaches is that the reverse can also be true: “As below, so above.” When I first read James G. Miller’s book Living Systems, I was led to ponder the intimate relationship between life on earth (the Small and below) and the universe as a whole (the All and above).
However, even after my first attempt to conduct a personal exploratory experiment testing the All-in-the-Small hypothesis by attempting to communicate with the universe (confessed in the next chapter), I didn’t allow my mind to explore this possibility seriously until I moved to the University of Arizona. There I would soon meet a courageous undergraduate student, Sabrina Geoffrion, who saw a significant connection between my explanation of systems science and her personal vision of an evolving Source in an evolving spiritual universe.
Sabrina had been encouraged to think big. At that time both her parents worked at the University of Arizona—her mother as professor and head of the art department, her father as associate vice president for research. Though her mother and father were academically conservative, they were intellectually open and loving people. They encouraged Sabrina to fearlessly and openly explore her own mind and they inspired her to dream.
As a result, Sabrina put forth the possibilities based on this starting point: Assume systems science predicts that what we are calling the G.O.D. process is the macro system. Then according to contemporary physics, all people would be intimately connected with the macro system (that is, “God”) to varying degrees. The logic comes from basic physics. All physical objects—from atoms and chemicals, through organisms and planets, including solar systems and galaxies—are interconnected in various degrees by electromagnetic fields (as well as gravitational fields). Since all this information—interconnected and communicated by invisible fields—is circulating throughout the universe, we are all to some extent sharing the same information. This is a simple way to understand what is sometimes called the holographic universe.
Sabrina proposed that our challenge as individuals, and as a species, was to learn how to receive and interpret this wealth of circulating information and associated energy. Physics tells us that the info-energy field connections are all there, waiting to be processed and actualized.
I found her logic convincing and compelling.
ON NOT BEING AFRAID TO ASK QUESTIONS WITH HUMILITY: THE BLACK BOX STORY
Soon I would become brave enough to ask the universe a deeply personal and meaningful question. My mind needed courage. Then I remembered my days as a young graduate student when I had been told a visionary story that had remained in the shadows of my mind.
The story was told to me in 1967 by Stephen Krietzman, now a Ph.D., but then a young graduate student in nutritional biochemistry at MIT, in a discussion we were having about the philosophy of science.
I have recalled Stephen’s story many times and it has often sparked wonderful conversations. Over the years there were times I told it to students and colleagues; this is the first time I have put my memory of it into print.
STEPHEN’S STORY
A black box fell out of the sky and landed somewhere in the Southwest of the United States. It produced a crater of enormous proportions. The government immediately dispatched investigators to the scene. They fenced off the crater and kept everyone away, save the military and some key scientists and politicians.
Headlines screamed, “What Could the Black Box Be?” Leading researchers were asked to examine it.
First came the physicists, and they did what physicists do: they measured the temperature of the box, bombarded it with subatomic particles, and attempted to reach a conclusion by studying its physical structure.
But try as they might, they could make no sense out of the data they retrieved. The box remained a complete mystery.
Next came the chemists. They did what chemists do. They measured its chemical composition and poured various liquids on it, including strong acids and bases.
But try as they might, they could make no sense of the box, which had a chemical structure unlike any they had ever encountered. They left the site without giving any answer.
Along came the biologists, and they did what biologists do. They searched for signs of biological life, attaching surface electrodes and measuring oxygen consumption, and recording electromagnetic fields, a process similar to recording electrocardiograms and brain waves. But try as they might, they could make no sense of the signals they observed. The box, they said, did not appear to have anything measurable that looked like DNA or cells.
Finally, as a last resort, the officials in charge of the investigation reluctantly allowed a psychologist—we shall call her Dr. Smith—to see the box. She pulled up a chair, sat down, took out a pencil and paper, and then addressed the box in a warm and friendly manner.
She said, “Hi. My name is Dr. Smith, and I would very much like to speak with you.”
She paused, and then gently said, “What’s your name?”
When I first heard this story, more than thirty-five years ago, it brought a smile to my lips. I remember being clear at the time about the deep lesson this simple story offered: that scientists and laymen alike—all of us—must be open to asking all kinds of questions, even seemingly silly and obvious ones, if we are going to learn and grow.
I believe that people must stay gutsy enough to ask questions that some might judge stupid or frivolous. My personal view is that there are no stupid questions, only uninformed ones—which is the reason we ask questions in the first place: to become informed.
I have tried over the years to apply the black box philosophy to my laboratory research. However, it’s one thing to ask questions as a scientist in a laboratory at the university and quite another to do it in the laboratory of one’s own mind.
A few years ago, an even more profound lesson from the black box story came to me. I realized that the behavior and communication skills of Dr. Smith were different from those of the other scientists. She asked her questions as psychologists are taught to do—without judgment and in a warm and friendly manner. She put the box “at ease.” And she shared something of herself before she asked the box to share in turn. In other words, she gave first, and then she asked to be given. And she implicitly invited the box to answer. In fact, clinical psychologists are often taught to use—especially with shy or frightened children—phrases such as “Would you like to tell me your name?”
So, like Dr. Smith, I decided to treat the universe as a black box in a crater, and invite it to give me an answer to my questions. As a clinical psychologist this is what I automatically did when I decided to ask the universe a question. And this may be part of the reason that the universe responded.
ANONYMOUS
Be careful what you ask for.