by Anastasia Wasko
The Golden Age of American science fiction, as per the mainstream publishing narrative, was in the 1930s-1940s. This was a time when giant monsters and strange beings with hive minds in outer space descended into the American psyche on Earth. This was also when J.B. Rhine, father of American parapsychology, executed his (arguably) most famous extrasensory perception (ESP) experiment through tests with Zener cards with Hubert Pearce and Joseph Gaither Pratt (an American parapsychologist and a divinity student, respectively) (Rhine & Pratt, 2018). Later, during the Silver Age of science fiction in the 1950s, the publishing market was full of stories about invasions from space and telepathy as a verifiable mode for communicating between individuals (Marcus, 2019).
Later, during the Silver Age of science fiction in the 1950s, the publishing market was full of stories about invasions from space and telepathy as a verifiable mode for communicating between individuals.
By this time, the world wars had ended, but the cultural landscape remained unsettled due to the Cold War. There were the looming threats of atomic annihilation and global imperialism. In parapsychology, the movement toward protocol-driven research in science labs (that is, a clinical setting) strove to distinguish this science from its vague roots in seance rooms and intellectual circles. The subject matter inquiry Rhine instigated was further advanced by the US government when the CIA started the Stargate Project to study intelligence collection using paranormal means (Graff, 2000; Rhine & Pratt, 2018). There was more than met the eye on the fringe areas of the mind and discussions of human consciousness. Like the predominantly white men who controlled the narrative of the publishing market in the United States, the predominantly white men in American politics at the time controlled the narrative and weaponized research in the name of national security.
Parapsychology, ostensibly harboring a desire to create a methodological overview of the fringe areas of the mind and science, and American science fiction were doing the same thing: confronting the human fear of the unknown.
In other words, the trends of genre fiction are related to research trends in parapsychology because they reflect the collective shadow work we are doing at a given moment in time. The power lies in the hands of those who write the story.
Narrative control, echoed now as an imminent threat in the 2020s, a time when Disclosure (a public confirmation of the existence of intelligent life the global governments have been interacting with) has started to creep into the mainstream narrative on a very conscious level.
Narrative control, echoed now as an imminent threat in the 2020s, a time when Disclosure (a public confirmation of the existence of intelligent life the global governments have been interacting with) has started to creep into the mainstream narrative on a very conscious level (Cooper et al., 2017). The narrative here is that we believe there is something greater than us out there. A recent webinar hosted by IONs, the Institute of Noetic Sciences, and the scientific community underscored the need to maintain a narrative advantage when the potential for extraterrestrials (ETs) to be walking among us goes hand in hand with the ability of the collective consciousness to hold the idea that we are not the only life form in the solar system or galaxy. But, it’s narrative control that staves off collective panic.
Next came the 1960s and 1970s. Women in sci-fi were present but invisible. As the civil rights movement was rising to let out an emancipatory battle cry, so too did females discover newfound voices. Contributions such as Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Dispossessed (a tale about the reunion of sparring planets) (1974) and “The Women Men Don’t See,” a science fiction novelette by American writer Alice Bradley Sheldon (published under the pseudonym James Tiptree, Jr.) (1973) underscored the tendency to underestimate women and their decision-making (here, as related to an alien craft). An uptick of horror and space opera appeared in the 1980s and 1990s. Fear of the unknown and the horror that exists of the unknown (whether in the black void of space or the poltergeist rumblings from a TV set) showed us that we are afraid of things we can’t explain.
Then the millennium turned, and stories of magic, supernatural powers, and time-bending adventures proliferated in books for young adults. Interestingly, bookseller statistics showed that young adult readers were the most profitable. Adults serving as the prime readership is a thing of the past; it’s the kid in us that publishers are catering to. Adults read works for young adults because they are equally captivated. Might we say there is a collective inner child psychodrama playing out in publishing markets?
Parapsychology aligns with the intent of science fiction trends when “this is a real thing” and wholly believable worlds are constructed in contrast to reality. The exploration of the truth becomes the plot line. The veracity of knowing is an ontological perspective, and the short of it is that this is the goal of parapsychology.
The exploration of the truth becomes the plot line. The veracity of knowing is an ontological perspective, and the short of it is that this is the goal of parapsychology.
Science fiction is there to allow for a world beyond the confines of material frameworks to appear. Parapsychology is there to allow a deeper inquisition of truth around the nature of reality. Gideon Marcus, author of Rediscovery, a collection of writing by women science fiction writers during the Silver Age, noted that “it is not science fiction’s job to predict the future, but it is its job to predict the trends” (2019).
Science fiction, then, becomes the body producing knowledge that will succeed us as a society. It offers us a place to gather new thoughts about the nature of reality, giving us a new ontological perspective.
A refreshed outlook on the world exists once shadow work is done.
Consider the ecology of a thought system: there are parts, and they are enmeshed in a greater whole. Clairvoyance and clairaudience are part of a constellation that includes other psi phenomena like telekinesis, bilocation, and telepathy. How many stories can you think of where the characters communicated with their minds? Were able to appear in two places at once? Could move material objects through intention?
In science fiction, characters and settings eschew Newtonian assumptions, Cartesian dualities, and ontological blind spots for the sake of a story; and this, I believe, is doing the work of shadow. Look at the recurring themes and symbols. These trends represent fears. What lies beyond them? The cognitive dissonance—which occupies the space between imagining a new world and actually living in it—is the perception as our relationship to the framework (of thought) changes. It’s the shifting of the ontological perspective. Science fiction (in real life) points us in a direction with no event horizon. There is no event horizon to the spiritual world; the fundamental interconnectedness and regenerative potential of self-aware personhood overcomes the finite manner in which we think. It’s our privilege to be human and to know conflict. And through parapsychology, we can meet our humanity and know the truth about realities as reflected through the scientific process. The framework for understanding realities grows. Changes. It is altered in a fundamental way, so we have a new relationship with understanding the nature of things. The unknown of it all is terrifying.
This is really about confronting fear. Fear influences what we research, what we choose to say, and how we choose to interpret data. Two books have piqued the fear center. One is the Exegesis of Philip K. Dick, which wasn’t published during his lifetime (2011). Dick was a prolific science fiction writer who produced more books-turned-movies than anyone. A person with a significant psychiatric disorder saw the trends more than any of us. Dick lived with schizophrenia. The publication of Exegesis was delayed because the publishing houses did not know how to reconcile a madman’s reality (Exegesis) with his fiction because they were so similar. Another writer, Whitely Streiber, wrote in his work Communion: A True Story that he suffered from severe anxiety after a series of alien visitations (1987). It was unclear to publishers and readers whether his work was fiction or not, especially since he was an established fiction writer.
Is the fear of the Other deeper than the fear of the unknown?
The present science fiction market is more of a diaspora, with contributions from writers whose identities are not mainstream and hetero-white. Writers such as the Black American Nnedi Okorafor (Lagoon) (2015) and Chinese author Cixin Liu (The Three-Body Problem) (2018) grapple with shifting forms and alien invasions. But, this time, it’s the aliens who are looking to the Earth for their salvation. The English-language science fiction market spans the globe and diaspora of cultural identities. Current trends in parapsychological research see an exploration of the subtle world of psychedelics and energy medicine. Research is being conducted by multinational teams who are reckoning with our humanity and disparate cultural norms. The Other, in my mind, is a mascot for parapsychology, and it is reaching beyond the fear of the unknown to find a unified humanity.
What we also learn from science fiction is that we, as a collective entity, have a hard time accepting truth. The publishing market reflects what is scaring us most, but it churns out works that will sell. It needs to make money, and the market is also afraid of its own shadow. The cognitive dissonance we experience in envisioning a new reality before we step into it is appeased through science fiction, and we need to go further. Perhaps one day, parapsychology won’t be in defensive but rather in offensive mode, representing an elevated collective consciousness on the global scale. The truth is out there because the truth is in all of us.
Cooper, H., Blumenthal, R., & Kean, L. (2017, December 16). Glowing auras and ‘Black Money’: The Pentagon’s mysterious U.F.O Program. New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2017/12/16/us/politics/pentagon-program-ufo-harry-reid.html
Dick, P. K. (2011). The exegesis of Philip K. Dick. Mariner Books.
Graff, D. (2000). Tracks in the psychic wilderness. Element Books Ltd.
LeGuin, U. (1974). The dispossessed. Harper & Row.
Liu, C. (2008). The three-body problem. Chongqing Press.
Marcus, G. (2019). Rediscovery: Science fiction by women (1958-1963). Journey Press.
Okorafor, N. (2015). Lagoon. S&S/Saga Press.
Streiber, W. (1987). Communion: A true story. Beech Tree Books.
Tiptree Jr., J. (1973). The women men don’t see. The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. 45(6).
Rhine, J. B., & Pratt, J. G. (2018). Extra-sensory perception after sixty years: A critical appraisal of the research in extra-sensory perception. Borodino Books.
In this issue of Mindfield, the contributors center their analysis on UAP from a variety of perspectives with supplemental essays on history, healing, and intuition. Mike Cifone argues that UAP require an expanded epistemology - grounded in radical empiricism and non-dual metaphysics - that acknowledges experiential, psychophysical, and anomalous data as legitimate, even when they …
by Anastasia Wasko and Jacob W. Glazier
