From: joedees@bellsouth.net
Date: Sun Jul 28 2002 - 21:38:04 MDT
               Of Myths and Monkeys: A Critical Look 
                          a Critical Mass
                          By Maureen O'Hara
                   The 'Hundredth Monkey Phenomenon' was invented by 
               Lyall Watson, a writer on paranormal subjects, in his 
                 1979 book Lifetide, and was subsequently elaborated 
                    upon by New Age author Rupert Sheldrake in A New 
                      Science of Life (1982), and Ken Keyes, a human-
                         potential movement guru whose 1982 book The 
              Hundredth Monkey sold a million copies. By quoting the 
              more marginal of each others' theories as if they were 
         established scientific facts, and by 'puffing' each others' 
             books with glowing back-cover testimonials, these three 
                 writers managed to convince an entire generation of 
                  New Age readers that telepathy in monkeys had been 
                   accepted by science since the 1950s-a staggering 
         assertion. The first published skeptical evaluation of this 
                myth was written by psychologist Maureen O'Hara, who 
                criticized the story in the July 1983 Association of 
                   Humanistic Psychology Newsletter and again in the 
                   Winter 1985 Journal of Humanistic Psychology. The 
                     response from many of her colleagues was one of 
            hostility. They regarded her concern for objective truth 
              as petty; their counterreplies paraphrased the New Age 
                           Axiom "if it feels good, it must be true".
                    Even though the 'Hundredth Monkey Phenomenon' is 
           now little more than a infrequently cited footnote to the 
                 history of odd 1980s beliefs, the confusion between 
            speculation and proven fact, prevalent even in scholarly 
              circles, remains, unfortunately, alive and well in the 
           1990s. This confusion is often deliberately reinforced by 
            writers and public figures whose motivation is to push a 
           particular theory or belief system, and by publishers who 
             have found that representing sensationalistic claims as 
                                   science sells books and magazines.
            The following article originally appeared in Whole Earth 
                 Review 52 (1989) and is reprinted, with Dr O'Hara's 
              kind permission, from The Fringes of Reason (New York: 
                    Harmony, 1989) pp 182-86. The substance of these 
                  preliminary remarks has been adapted in large part 
              from the introduction by Ted Shultz, the book's editor.
The Hundredth Monkey provides us with a case study 
through which to examine the deterioration in the quality 
of thought and scholarship among those people who 
participate in what has become known as the 'New Age' 
or 'Human Potential' community. I believe that this 
deterioration may ultimately result (if it has not already) 
in discrediting humanistic science altogether, leaving us 
with nothing more than faddism and a rag-bag of 
pseudoreligious and pseudoscientific superstition. 
Because I believe that a humanistic view of persons and 
their communities has never been more necessary in 
order to counterbalance the galloping alienation in human 
life, I view this trend toward superstition with real alarm.
Lyall Watson does not tell us the monkey tale in his book 
Lifetide because he is interested in studies of behavior 
propagation in macaqueshe is merely using the story to 
support his conviction about human consciousness, that 
when a certain 'critical mass' of people believe in 
something, suddenly the idea becomes true for everyone. 
There can be no doubt that ideas and attitudes can spread 
rapidly through a community from time to time. 
Evidence of this exists everywhere. Perhaps this monkey 
story and the rapidity with which it passed from 
pseudoscientific speculation, through dubious editing, 
word of mouth transmission by superstars in the human 
potential movement, into popular New Age superstition, 
makes a far better case study of the very phenomenon 
than the monkey research putatively demonstrates.
This process is widely known and effectively 
manipulated by those wishing to influence large numbers 
of people. Hitler was terrifyingly successful in 
convincing an entire people (at least a critical mass) of 
the reasonableness of this 'final solution'. Teenage culture 
in our own country offers nonstop demonstration of new 
fads that emerge, spread through the group to become a 
critical mass, and disappear, all in a matter of weeks. 
Madison Avenue advertisers pay high salaries to those 
psychologists who become adept at manipulating the 
mass psyche to form critical mass, as do the Defense 
Department and politicians running for office. The means 
by which critical mass is achieved, however, is not in any 
way mysterious. It is a matter of telecommunication, not 
telepathy.
There are major contradictions in the present idealization 
of critical massseen not only in the Hundredth Monkey 
story, but in the ideologies of such organizations as EST, 
Bhagwan Rajneesh, and the 'Aquarian conspirators'. In 
promoting the idea that, although our ideas are shared by 
only an enlightened few (for the time being), if we really 
believe them, in some magical way what we hold to be 
true becomes true for everyone, proponents of the critical 
mass ideal ignore the principles of both humanism and 
democratic open society. The basis for openness in our 
kind of society is the belief that, for good or ill, each of 
us holds his or her own beliefs as a responsible 
participant in a pluralistic culture. Are we really willing 
to give up on this ideal and promote instead a monolithic 
ideology in which what is true for a 'critical mass' of 
people becomes true for everyone? The idea gives me the 
willies.
Pseudoscience, Science, and Ambivalence
How could such a profoundly nonhumanistic idea 
become so popular among people who consider 
themselves the harbingers of a 'New Age'? I think the 
answer lies, at least in part, in the renewed infatuation 
with science and its shadow, pseudoscience. In the past 
ten years of so, we have seen the image of nuclear 
physicist shift from Dr Stangelove-like creators of the 
most terrifying death devices in history to their present 
status as darlings of the so-called 'new paradigm' 
consciousness. When we saw the physicists as on 'their 
side', we rejected everything they did. Now that they are 
on 'our side', we quote them at breakfast. Books like 
Fritjof Capra's The Tao of Physics have the New Age 
community convinced that physics is just some kind of 
Taoism with numbers.
This new infatuation with science is a shallow one, easily 
swayed by tricks of the pseudoscience trade such as 
theorizing wildly in scientific-sounding language, 
sprinkling speculative discussion with isolated fragments 
of real data regardless of relevance, confusing analogy 
with homology, breaking conventional rules of evidence 
at will, and extrapolating from one level of reality into 
others wherein different principles operate.
I do not wish to imply that pseudoscience necessarily 
stems from a conscious effort to deceive. More often than 
not, crossing the line from science to pseudoscience 
comes from ignorance and inexperience, and the 
popularity of pseudoscience is with an audience equally 
ignorant and inexperienced. Because this audience is not 
equipped to evaluate claims of scientific validity, they 
instead accept them on faith.
One standard trick of the pseudoscience trade, for 
example, is to emphasize whatever affiliations to 
established science the writers have or had. It is to great 
advantage if the writer can be referred to as a scientist 
associated with a prestigious university with a wide 
reputation for scientific excellence. It matters not tot the 
purveyors of pseudoscience whether or not the 'scientists' 
referred to have been in a lab for years, or if, when they 
were, it was in a field even remotely relevant to the 
subject at hand.
An August 1981 Brain/Mind Bulletin account of the 
Hundredth Monkey story refers to Lyall Watson as a 
biologist: the monkey story follows. The bibliography of 
Watson's book contains not one reference to any 
scientific research, biological or otherwise, that he has 
published, yet his other books, on the occult, are listed. It 
is not difficult to imagine a rather different response from 
the reader if Brain/Mind Bulletin had introduced the 
monkey story by referring to Watson as a writer on the 
occult.
Another example of 'authority transfer' can be found in 
Tom Cooper's review of the film, The Hundredth 
Monkey, which appeared in the May 1983 issue of the 
Association for Humanistic Psychology Newsletter. In 
asserting that the Hundredth Monkey thesis is 
"substantiated" he says, "Rupert Sheldrake, the 
Cambridge scientist, reports that when one group of rats 
was taught " The implication here is clear and 
misleading. The statement conveys the impression that 
Sheldrake (a) is currently on the faculty at Cambridge; 
(b) does scientific research there; (c) knows a lot about 
rats; (d) is 'reporting' on his own research.
If we look at Sheldrake's own book, A New Science of 
Life, we find that he was once a scholar at a Cambridge 
College, and is described as currently a consultant at an 
international research institute in India. His research is on 
the physiology of tropical plants. Again, the impact 
would be very different if Cooper had written, "Rupert 
Sheldrake, tropical plant physiologist in an Indian crop 
research center, says that when one group of rats " This 
kind of 'credentialeering' is obviously intended to give 
credibility to scientific-sounding propositions. Such 
authority-borrowing works because institutions such as 
Cambridge University and disciplines such as biology 
have, despite occasional, widely publicized aberrations, 
lived up to their reputations for reliability.
Another characteristic of pseudoscience is its profound 
ambivalence toward the scientific establishment. Despite 
his identification as a biologist, Watson's work carries 
within it clear evidence of his ambivalence. On one hand, 
he uses research findings to try to support his conviction 
about critical mass theory in human events. One the other 
hand, he suggests that the scientific community is less 
than honest when he tells us that these same researchers 
were reluctant to publish what they suspected was the 
truth. He panders to the popular distrust of science by 
suggesting that this reluctance was due to fear of ridicule 
by, one assumes, the scientific community.
Those who engage in pseudoscience want it both ways. 
They want the authority of science but are unwilling to 
abide by the rules by which the scientific community 
earned its authority in the first place. Pseudoscientists 
and their publishers may actually use criticism of their 
ideas by the scientific community as evidence that they 
are important because they are controversial. They seem 
to reason that because Einstein was controversial, anyone 
who is controversial must be an Einstein. On the jacket 
of the US Paperback edition of Sheldrakes's A New 
Science of Life is the prod claim that the British scientific 
journal Nature had suggested that the book was "the best 
candidate for burning there has been for many years". As 
the designers of trade-book jackets are well aware, such 
outbursts by the scientific establishment only enhance a 
work's attractiveness to a generation of lay people fed up 
with the excesses of 'more orthodox than thou' attitudes 
of the scientific establishment.
This ambivalence toward establishment science strikes an 
immediate and comforting chord in the minds of a public 
that is not only ambivalent about science, but largely 
ignorant. It is difficult for the uninitiated to distinguish 
between good science, bad science, and pseudoscience. 
Appraisal becomes especially difficult when isolated 
pieces of scientific knowledge are abstracted from their 
contexts within the broad, interwoven fabric of scientific 
thought. It is context that make knowledge out of data. 
This is true not only for sciences, but for all areas of 
advanced knowledge such as art, Zen, medicine, 
psychotherapy and so on. This makes a book like Capra's 
Tao of Physics almost impossible to evaluate adequately. 
Those adept at physics don't understand orientalism; 
those well versed in Taoist philosophy can say little about 
the physics. The people so swallow Capra's speculations 
usually can critique neither. If they like what they read, 
they accept it as fact.
One concrete consequence of this ubiquitous 
ambivalence toward science can be seen in the rejection 
of training in science and logical thinking by some 
would-be humanistic psychologists and other aspiring 
agents of change. Without such training these people, 
regardless of their heart-felt commitment to 
transformation, have practically no basis on which to 
evaluate claims made in the name of science. 
Anyonecrackpot, charlatan, genius, or sagemust be 
dealt with in the same way (believed or disbelieved) 
solely on the basis of personal opinion. Personal opinion 
then becomes equated with knowledge and can be 
asserted without embarrassment.
The result is that the human potential movement has 
come dangerously close to creating the conditions for the 
establishment of yet another orthodoxy resting on 
unproved articles of faith and taken-for-granted 
definitions, axioms and concepts. Humanistic science 
loses ground each time it hands over authority to 
pseudoscientists and speculative myth builders.
Good Myths and Bad Myths
On two occasions (both gatherings of humanistic 
psychologists) when the monkey story was told, I tried to 
raise some of the issues raised here. When I suggested 
that the Hundredth Monkey story lay in the realm of 
mythic thought, not scientific, the response was the same; 
the speakers were unimpressed. "myths are as true as 
science", was the response. "It's a metaphor" as another. 
P.B. Walsh's comment in the November 1983 
Association for Humanist Psychology Newsletter was 
characteristic: "Science or myth, the Hundredth Monkey 
is a metaphor that exactly fits " and later , "As metaphor 
it speaks to our empowerment."
As to the assertion that myths are as true as science, I 
take the point. But there is more that has to be said, for 
although they might both be 'true', they are not true in the 
same way. These respondents either do not know this or 
do not think it matters much. But, of course, it matters a 
great deal and I believe that it is urgent that we learn to 
recognize the difference. Casually interchanging myth, 
science, and metaphor robs each of these realms of its 
unique power to deepen our understanding of the word, 
to orient out science, and to inform our actions. Women 
and ethnic minorities well know the consequences of 
wrapping a myth together with science. It is especially 
pernicious, as any Nazi holocaust survivor can confirm, 
when a bad myth is wrapped up with bad science.
My objection to the Hundredth Monkey Phenomenon, 
then is not that it is myth, but that it is bad myth, and that 
it draws its force not from the collective imagination, but 
by masquerading as science. It leads us, (as I have tried 
to show) in the direction of propaganda, manipulation, 
totalitarianism, and a worldview dominated by the 
powerful and persuasivein other words, business as 
usual.
When I was first drawn into humanistic science, I was 
well aware that I was attracted to its myth. I know of 
very little actual 'data' that could support a belief in the 
possibility of a humane global collective, composed of 
free, responsible, rational people capable of purposeful 
action, critical thought, creativity, and individual 
conscience. Of course I knew this to be an idealized myth 
standing in sharp contrast to the indignities that are the 
actual daily experience of all but a privileged few. Even 
so, I think it is a good myth and has the psychological 
power to mobilize us and to orient our search for 
knowledge about ourselves.
Over the past 15 years , this myth has guided my studies 
and those of my colleagues (and at times has required 
acts of faith as great as any religion would demand) as 
we have tried to discover, as all science does, if this 
mythic possible world could, in fact, be an actual world; 
and if not, why not? So far we have discovered little that, 
in my judgment, gives much grounds for the current New 
Age optimism that the transformation is just around the 
corner, It is a testimony to the sustaining power of the 
humanistic myth that we did not give up our research 
long ago and open a restaurant.
In contrast, I most emphatically cannot agree that the 
'Hundredth Monkey myth empowers". In fact, I believe it 
to be a betrayal of the whole idea of human 
empowerment. In this myth the individual as a 
responsible agent disappears; what empowers is no 
longer the moral force of one's beliefs, not their empirical 
status, rather, it is the number of people who share them. 
Once the magic number is reached curiosity, science, art, 
criticism, doubt and all other such activities subversive of 
the common consensus become unnecessary or even 
worse. Individuals no longer have any obligation to 
develop their own worldview within such a collectiveit 
will come to them ready-made from those around. Nor 
are we called on to develop our arguments and articulate 
them for, by magic, those around us will catch them 
anyway. This is not a transformational myth impelling us 
toward the fullest development of our capacities, but one 
that reduces us instead to quite literally nothing more 
than a mindless herd at the mercy of the 'Great 
Communicators'. The myth of the Hundredth Monkey 
Phenomenon is more chillingly Orwellian than Aquarian.
                  {PRIVATE "TYPE=PICT;ALT=Virtual"}
               Inspired in the 1960s by the works of Abraham Maslow, 
                   Carl Rogers, Gregory Bateson, and others, Maureen 
                   O'Hara cut short a career in biology and became a 
             humanistic psychologist in order to participate in "the 
             creation of a precise humanistic science" with the goal 
                   of "a humane global collective, composed of free, 
                  responsible, rational people capable of purposeful 
                action, critical thought, creativity, and individual 
                    conscience." Today she is alarmed by the way her 
           profession, intertwined as it is with the human potential 
                 and New Age communities, has embraced the trappings 
                     of pseudoscience and become prone to accept and 
                  amplify 'bad myths', of which the Hundredth Monkey 
                  story is only one example. As a specialist in mass 
                     psychology and cross-cultural phenomena, she is 
            particularly qualified to comment on the 'critical mass' 
              concept idealized in the Hundredth Monkey myth, and to 
             provide us with an insider's view of the reasons behind 
           the rise of superstition in humanistic science. Dr O'Hara 
              is currently the acting president of Saybrook Graduate 
                         School and Research Center in San Francisco.
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