From Chaos to Clarity: Netflix’s Paranormal and Parapsychology

by David S. B. Mitchell

The show Paranormal is an Egyptian Netflix production (Salama & Al Ansari, 2020). The narrative presents the audience with a six-episode excursion into the liminal realm that exists between Egyptian and Western culture, between ancient and modern ways of knowing (i.e., epistemologies), and between high strangeness and mundane explanations (i.e., ontologies) for exceptional experiences. In a series of intertwined tales that are loosely based on the epic young adult works of the late Egyptian author and physician Ahmed Khaled Tawfik, showrunner Amr Salama introduces the audience to a 1967 Egypt that is in turmoil, a microcosm of a world that is caught in deep disruption and transition.[1]

The Paranormal universe centers on professor of hematology, Dr. Refaat Ismail. Through his eyes and those of his compatriots, the audience finds itself grappling with questions about the true reality or nature of various exceptional experiences. Refaat and the various other characters in the show are confronted with a panoply of occurrences from potentially parapsychological as well as folkloric origin, including entity encounters (i.e., with apparitions, naiads, succubi, etc.), recurrent spontaneous psychokinesis (RSPK), possession, lucid dreams, synchronicities, and apports. As a result of each encounter, Refaat is pushed ever closer toward confronting them as well as his own neglected Shadow, the unconscious container of the various contents of his own doubts, fears, and frustrations.

The portrayal of these paranormal phenomena is conveyed through a lens of magical realism coupled with a kind of profane gravity that is grounded in real-world, human affairs. Moreover, the show’s script and plot treatment of parapsychological and folkloric subjects of inquiry is far from sensationalist, campy, or dismissive. In fact, I found the show’s nuanced presentation of what Hunter (2023) calls the deep weird to be both sympathetic to and skeptical of consideration regarding parapsychological and other fringed phenomena.[2]

I found the show’s nuanced presentation of what Hunter calls the deep weird to be both sympathetic to and skeptical of consideration regarding parapsychological and other fringed phenomena.

Credit: Netflix

Even so, Refaat himself is staunchly committed to his rational thinking and is loath to consider any folkloric, anomalous, or mythical explanations for these various happenings, instead relying upon psychological defense mechanisms, including rationalization, denial, suppression, and repression. For example, his assertions that “there is nothing paranormal” stand in stark contrast to the fact that he is literally and figuratively haunted by his own past (e.g., Shraytekh, 2022, p. 133). In many ways, Dr. Refaat is a microcosm of ambivalent tensions wherein ancient Egyptian folklore and myth and Western science and medicine vie for power and privilege. In our main character’s eyes, there is little room for the likes of ancient superstition or lore, his inner space thoroughly acculturated by the theorems and postulates of American personalities. As a case in point, the audience is introduced to his inner monologues which are often given over to quoting Murphy’s laws (e.g., “anything that can go wrong, will go wrong”) and to suppressing his feelings for a current colleague who is also an old flame of his; however, his expressed speech is full of derisive and degrading comments about the limits of other people’s thinking and verbal assaults on all-things paranormal.

We are confronted with a character who, despite all of his scientific and medical acumen, refuses to see the world and himself as they are. Instead, Refaat buries himself further and further in his own mental machinations and cognitive sleights of hand, constructing a veritable avalanche of rationalizations and logical fallacies that aggravate his own circumstances as well as those of his loved ones. Despite seeing the damage that his disavowal is contributing to, he is often in denial to the point of delusion, leaning heavily on his faith in rational and empirical science. In this way, Refaat is a true acolyte of scientism, having placed all of his faith in the tenets and paradigms of Western science. His plight is therefore similar to the way in which mythic figures from African cosmological systems, such as the conceited and chaotic Set of ancient Kemet (i.e., predynastic Egypt) or the incessantly impetuous Yurugu of the Malian (Griaule & Dieterlen, 1986) can afflict people. Refaat’s own deep denial and disparagement end up negatively affecting others, including his family, friends, and extended community. In this sense, Refaat might symbolize the blind bigotries of pseudoskeptics, cynics, and debunkers, while Refaat’s loved ones and compatriots may represent those personas non-grata who are truly skeptical, seeking out explanations for phenomena as they are rather than solely as they wish to see them.

Credit: Netflix

The great lengths that Refaat goes to in order to deny the potentially paranormal nature of the occurrences themselves, to disparage those who are willing to give credence to such an origin, and to suppress his own past encounters with the paranormal, are analogous in many ways to the manner in which fringed phenomena have tended to be suppressed within those mainstream endeavors of the academy. Those endeavors are precisely the ones that coalesce into what philosopher of science Thomas Kuhn (2012) termed normal science (i.e., the body of actions, paradigms, and beliefs that constitute and define the tenets of mainstream science): while this mode of the scientific endeavor is helpful to provide structure for scientific researchers, those subjects of inquiry that lie beyond the typical boggle threshold (Haynes, 1980) of the average researcher tend to be cast out of the academy entirely, as those subjects are perceived to be antithetical to the pursuit of valid inquiry. In this way, anomalies that do not conform to the existing paradigms and practices of normal science are treated as inherently problematic in the same way that Refaat believes mythos and magic to be utterly ludicrous.

Therefore, although many of the exceptional experiences that are presented in the show bely more mysterious origins, their causes and effects are also wrapped up in human faith and fear. By focusing the story on the various machinations of a character who needs to come to terms with his own thoughts, feelings, and actions about these experiences, the show makes an appeal to reason as well as to the excitement to discover all things that go bump in the night.

A poignant insight about people being unwilling to see their deeper connectedness to the world as it is, rather than as they wish to see it, is one that my colleague Julia Mossbridge reminded me of some years ago. It is a matter that I reflect upon regularly as I move through the world, encountering narratives such as those engaging and insightful stories that we find in Paranormal. More than likely, any blindness toward viewing our actions or the world as they are is what contributes to the world’s ills.

Although many of the exceptional experiences that are presented in the show bely more mysterious origins, their causes and effects are also wrapped up in human faith and fear.

Interestingly, in ancient Egypt (aka Khemit, Kemet, Khamit, etc.), it was said that one form of Heru (aka Hor, Horus) was Heru the Blind (aka Heru the Elder). Heru was the prototype of the pharaoh,[3] of divine thought (Carruthers, 1995, p. 44) and one of the hawk-headed deities, is the son of Auset (aka Isis, Wizzet) and Ausar (aka Osiris, Wizzer), and was the origin of the word “hero” (Browder, 2004, p. 14; Mehler, 2001, p. 44). Heru the Blind suffered from the same self-deluded, myopic affliction, refusing to see all of the good, the bad, and the ugly as they were, and thereby allowed division and destruction to be sown across the land (Plutarch, 2003). It was only upon his eventual turn toward the prototype of the prime minister and of the divine word, exemplified by the ibis-headed deity Tehuti (aka Djehuty, Djehuty, and Thoth), and toward upholding truth, exemplified by the feathered deity Maat (Carruthers, 1995, p. 44), that he was able to prevail. Heru’s success resulted in overthrowing Set, the principle of destruction and division, whom Heru had previously provoked rather than prevented while in his myopic manifestation. While that was Heru’s hero’s journey, the journey that Refaat and his companions go on bears some parallels. It is both insightful and intriguing, with the good doctor shifting his character from that of a kind of anti-hero into a hero of the story, inspired by other heroic compatriots such as Maggie and Huwaida.

When taken to the extreme, denial of the anomalous can have a tendency to actually act counter to reason, rather than to support it; this is a lesson that the audience comes to learn through the rising action of the show. I find such a lesson to be one of the series’ most useful insights, as the plot points critically contextualize the power dynamics that we find between the Western academy and those global cultures that it touches.

Regarding ancient as well as modern ways of thinking (i.e., epistemologies) and their relation to an ancient and multicultural Egyptian legacy, it is ironic that Dr. Refaat’s chronically discordant actions end up running counter to the ancient Egyptian principle of truth and harmony (i.e., Maat), as well as to Arab and Islamic practices of harmony, peace, and reconciliation (e.g., the Sulha; Pely, 2016), whereby his impetuousness often ends up causing more interpersonal pain and problems, sowing chaos instead of communal care.

In such a manner, the often problematic high strangeness that seems to follow our main characters is an entry point, a rite of passage, into a deeper sense of knowing that Refaat particularly needs to embrace – not just for himself, but for his community. Poignantly, the cultivation of such knowledge of self has been argued to be central to spiritual life in ancient Egypt (e.g., Akbar, 1998). Given the fact that modern psychology owes its existence, at least in name, to ancient Egypt (i.e., due to the etymological link from the Egyptian “sakhu”[4] to the Greek “psyche;” Massey, 1881, p. 105), such knowledge of self is sorely needed begging to be operationalized and cultivated within the discipline of psychology. Perhaps such knowledge broadly conceived could help Refaat as well as the hardened positivist paradigms of modern psychology to confront what Etzel Cardeña (2015, p. 601) has aptly called an “unbearable fear of psi.”

Given the fact that modern psychology owes its existence, at least in name, to ancient Egypt... such knowledge of self is sorely needed begging to be operationalized and cultivated within the discipline of psychology.

As for Refaatt’s response to such fear, the audience gets to become privy to his private, inner monologues and musings as well as his publicly voiced polemics. His behavior, thoughts, and feelings bely an ambivalence: restraining and blocking his true emotions and memories, while also perpetuating a kind of self-obsessed impetuousness. Refaat bases his actions not upon reality as it is, but on reality as he expects (or perhaps wishes) it to be, which is often filtered through those Western paradigms to which he clings so tightly. But Refaat is a man who is running from something, and he and his companions present a wonderful set of windows through which to view historical as well as present acceptance as well as reticence within academic and medical science around those phenomena and conceptualizations of reality that are perceived to be anomalous, anti-structural, or fringed: that is, those various facets of experience that Hunter (à la Charles Fort) has termed “damned data” (Hunter, 2021, p. 12).

It is precisely the history of fringed disciplines (e.g., parapsychology, transpersonal psychology, etc.) to serve as vessels for those unwanted and unloved subjects of study that the more mainstream prospects and penchants of normal science have so often shoved aside. In my opinion, for all of his education, Refaat’s own vociferous and, even at times, aggressive disavowal of all things anomalous is a vivid illustration of just such a history. And yet, he is still accepted and consoled by those around him, despite his many flaws. Perhaps this is similar to the ways in which fringed disciplines still often seek a seat at the table of the mainstream academy, so to speak, wanting to come in from the cold and be warmed by the fire. In this way, the show as a whole provides a wonderful foil through which the relationship between parapsychology and the broader field of psychology can be viewed.

Credit: Netflix

What we are left with, however, is far from a one-sided depiction of the validity and historical accuracy of either singular position: instead, showrunner Amr Salama has adapted Tawfik’s beloved source material into a nuanced and complex visual narrative of the relational, ontological, and experiential spaces where the mysterious and the mundane either clash or come together. The audience is thereby left with what I think is a sympathetic and insightful perspective on how dominant or mainstream narratives and counter-narratives (i.e., those stories and perspectives that run counter to the mainstream) can be understood through the actions of those whom they affect. In this way, the image of the confluence of the White Nile and the Blue Nile, or that of the great Nile Delta, provides us with useful metaphors for how the show manages to illustrate convergence and conflict as well as continuity.

Moreover, in viewing the vast and deep wellspring that is Egyptian mythology and folklore with its various Sub-Saharan African, Arabic, Asiatic, and European influences across its long history, the manners and means by which narratives of these aspects of Egyptian culture can be perceived in their fullness without washing out or denying the other influences, may be of particular benefit and import for a Western psychological discipline that itself has numerous historical influences and entry points, and many that have gone marginalized and unsung.

Watching the show Paranormal reminded me of how powerful cross-pollination can be between parapsychology and other approaches to the social sciences and humanities, including but not limited to critical psychology (e.g., Glazier, 2022), folklorics, mythology, and memory studies (Tota & Hagen, 2016).

In all, I found Salama and Al Ansari’s (2020) show Paranormal to be a well-paced and poignant reflection on the status of fringed disciplines such as parapsychology and the subjects of study that are contained within them. It provides a nuanced illustration of the ways in which various aspects of ontology and epistemology can either consume or correct each other. For me, the variety of exceptional experiences that were portrayed in the show served as the catalyst by which Refaat was able to move beyond a “normal” mode of thinking into what Kuhn (2012) termed a “revolutionary” or “extraordinary” mode of thinking that actively and intentionally incorporates the anomalous, just as the academy can move from a normal science into a revolutionary science (Kuhn, 2012). Ultimately, such movements can surely contribute to a clearer and deeper understanding of the world that exists around us as well as within us.

[1] 1967 was indeed “the year of the paranormal,” with numerous entity encounters, time slips, and other oddities occurring. The inquiring reader should consider looking into the various mundane as well as mysterious occurrences of that year.

[2] Elsewhere (Mitchell, 2023), I have defined some disciplines as “fringed” rather than “fringe” to point to the power dynamics whereby certain subjects of study are deemed invalid and unworthy of formal inquiry, while others are denied such a privilege. Such vying for power toward the center of the academy is a fluid process, and those subjects which formerly sat at the margins of the academy can eventually be accepted into its heart. Thomas Kuhn (2012) discusses the broader dynamics of this process in his discussion of the tensions between accepted, normal science and revolutionary (or extraordinary) science, which embraces rather than rejects (former) anomalies.

[3] Scholars such as Stephen Mehler emphasize that while Horus was indeed an important figure, it was also his consort, Hat-hor (aka Het Heru), or “Place/House of Hor,” who was held in extremely high esteem. It is from Hat-hor’s position that the name Per-Aa (i.e., “High House”) is derived, thus giving us the name “pharaoh” (2001, p. 45). Additionally, Mehler points out that in ancient Khemit, females and not males were the head of the household; similarly in the Paranormal universe, despite Refaat’s central role, it is actually the females in the story who hold much of the power in advancing and integrating the events and encounters into a coherent whole.

[4] Egyptologist Gerald Massey states that the term “sakhu” refers to “the understanding, the illuminator, the eye and soul of being, that which inspires” (2003, p. 105).

References

Akbar, N. (author), & Hilliard III, A. G. (foreword). (1998). Know thy self. Mind Productions & Associates.

Ani, M. (2007). Yurugu: An African-centered critique of European cultural thought and behavior (Vol. 213). Africa World Press.

Browder, A. (2004). Egypt on the Potomac: A guide to decoding Egyptian architecture and symbolism in Washington, D.C.. IKG.

Cardeña, E. (2015). The unbearable fear of psi: On scientific suppression in the 21st century. Journal of Scientific Exploration, 29(4), 601-620.

Carruthers, J. H. (author), & Clarke, J. H. (foreword). (1995). Mdw Ntr (Divine Speech): A historiographical reflection of African deep thought from the time of the pharaohs to the present. Karnak House.

Glazier, J. W. (2022). Feminism at the forefront: A critical approach to exceptional experiences. Journal of Anomalistics, 22, 427-446.

Griaule, M., & Dieterlen, G. (1986). The pale fox. Continuum Foundation.

Haynes, R. (1980). The boggle threshold. Encounter, August, 92-96.

Hunter, J. (2021). Deep weird: High strangeness, boggle thresholds and damned data in academic research on extraordinary experience. Journal for the Study of Religious Experience, 7(1), 5-18.

Hunter, J. (2022). Deep weird: The varieties of high strangeness experience. August Night Press.

Kuhn, T. (2012). The structure of scientific revolutions (50th anniversary edition). University of Chicago Press.

Massey, G. (1881). A book of beginnings (Vol. 1, 2). Williams and Norgate.

Mehler, S. S. (2001). The land of Osiris. Adventures Unlimited Press.

Mitchell, D. (2023). “What goes bump in the psyche”: Relict hominoids, reality shifts, and race relations as existential threats to Western culture. In J. Glazier (Ed.), Paranormal Ruptures: Critical Approaches to Exceptional Experiences (pp. 21-57). Beyond the Fray Publishing.

Pely, D. (2016). Muslim/Arab mediation and conflict resolution: Understanding sulha. Routledge.

Plutarch. (2003). Moralia (Volume V). Harvard University Press.

Salama, A. (director), & M., A. A. (director). (2020). Paranormal. Netflix.

Shrayteh (Chreiteh), A. (2022). Efendi Gothic: A forgotten prehistory of the Arabic novel. In K. Grumberg (Ed.), Middle Eastern Goths: Literature, spectral modernities and the restless past (pp. 133-164). University of Wales Press.

Tota, A. L., & Hagen, T. (Eds.). (2016). Routledge international handbook of memory studies. Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group.

Author of this article: David S. B. Mitchell
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