Michael Prescott's Blog

Book review (part one): The Seth Material

I've read bits and pieces of the writings attributed to Seth, an entity purportedly channeled by Jane Roberts, whose teachings were reproduced in a series of bestselling books, but I haven't made a sustained study of the subject. Recently, since I've been looking into the subject of possession, and Jane Roberts's trance states seem to qualify, I decided to read at least one complete book in the series.

I chose The Seth Material. Originally published in 1970, The Seth Material is Roberts's first book to go into depth about her channeling experiences. I'm finding it something of a mixed bag, and since there's a lot to parse here, I plan to review it in sections as I go along. This review covers the book through Chapter 7.

Seth's basic message is heartening, if not particularly original:

According to what you have been taught, you are composed of physical matter and cannot escape it, and this is not so. The physical matter will disintegrate, but you will not. Though you cannot find me, know that I am here. Your own parents seem to disappear before your eyes and vanish into nothingness forever. I can assure you that they will continue to live. I can assure you that death is another beginning, and that when you are dead, you are not silenced. For is this voice that you hear now, silence? Is this presence that you sense within this room, death?

I am here to tell you that your joy is not dependent upon your youth, for I am hardly young. I am here to tell you that your joy is not dependent upon your physical body, for in your terms I have none. I have what I have always had, the identity that is mine. It is never diminished. It grows and develops …

I come here as though I appeared through a hole in space and time. There are walks in space and time through which you can travel, and in dreams you have been where I am. I want you to feel your own vitality. Feel it travel through the universe and know that it is not dependent upon your physical image. In reality you project your own energy out to form the physical world. Therefore, to change your world, it is yourself you must change. You must change what you project.

You always were, you always will be. This is the meaning of existence and joy. The God that is, is within you, for you are a part of all that is.

Jane Roberts's previously unsuspected psychic powers first manifested themselves in a spontaneous experience of "cosmic consciousness" (not her term) in which she perceived the universe as

really tissue-paper thin, hiding infinite dimensions of reality, and I was suddenly flung through the tissue paper with a huge ripping sound … I went plummeting through a leaf, to find a whole universe open up; and then out again, drawn into new perspectives…

During that experience I knew that we formed physical matter, not the other way around; that our senses showed us only one three-dimensional reality out of an infinite number that we couldn't ordinarily perceive; that we could trust our senses only so far and only so long as we did not ask questions that were beyond their limited scope of knowledge.

But more: I just didn't know, for example, that everything had its own consciousness. Now I suddenly felt the fantastic vitality present even in things I'd previously considered inanimate. A nail was sticking in the windowsill, and I experienced ever so briefly the consciousness of the atoms and molecules that composed it.

Despite all my previous ideas and common sense, I knew that time wasn't a series of moments one before the other, each one like a clothespin stuck on a line, but that all experience existed in some kind of eternal now.

This is explained as Seth's first attempt at making contact. Soon afterward, he was able to communicate with the pair via a Ouija board and then eventually by using Jane's body as his instrument.

Unless Jane and her husband Rob were consummate actors and highly inventive confabulators – extremely doubtful, given the tests to which Jane subjected herself – their reports of the channeling episodes must be taken seriously. Some kind of paranormal phenomenon was going on. Jane was able to provide accurate information about distant locations and activities via clairvoyance. She appears to have had genuine out-of-body experiences – sometimes extremely vivid ones. Her personality, mannerisms, and voice changed noticeably when she was "possessed" by Seth. The misgivings and skeptical doubts that she describes are believable, and her gradual conversion to the belief that Seth really was a discarnate personality temporarily occupying her body seems entirely plausible to me.

Of course, just because she became convinced doesn't mean she was right. It also doesn't mean that every word spoken by Seth must be accepted at face value.

In fact, much of what Seth tells us is hard to credit, even for those of us already convinced of postmortem survival. Early in the sessions, he informs Jane and Rob that they once witnessed thought-form doubles of themselves in a dance club. Jane remembers the incident:

I noticed an older couple sitting across the room from us. They really frightened me by their uncanny resemblance to Rob and myself. Did we look like that – aloof, bitter – only younger? I couldn't take my eyes off them, and finally I pointed them out to Rob.

Rob looked over at the couple and groaned with another back spasm [a chronic problem at that time]. Then something happened that neither of us had been able to explain. To my complete amazement Rob stood up, grabbed my arm, and insisted that we dance. A minute earlier, he'd hardly been able to walk.

Rob's back problems markedly improved from that point forward. Seth explains:

Looking back, you can say that the effect was therapeutic, but if you had subconsciously accepted the images, it would have marked the beginning of a severe deterioration for you both, personally and creatively. Again, the images marked the critical culmination of your destructive energies …

Your dancing represented the first move away from what those images meant, and violent action was the best thing under the circumstances … A subtle transformation could have taken place in which you and Jane transferred the bulk of your personalities into the fragments you had yourselves created … and from their eyes watched yourselves across the room. In this case your present dominant personalities would no longer be dominant.

He goes on to explain that the so-called "fragments" or thought-forms simply disappeared into the crowd when they were no longer the focus of Jane and Rob's attention.

Now, this sounds pretty far out. We are meant to believe that it's possible to project our own double into the world as a tangible, physical entity, and moreover, under adverse circumstances, to project our consciousness into this double and inhabit it from then on, leaving our previous physical body as a mere shell.

Subsequent questioning of Seth on this point makes it clear that he's not speaking metaphorically or symbolically. Seth says:

[In this incident] aggressive and destructive energies were unconsciously projected outward, given a pseudo-reality and temporary physical validity. The emotional charge provides the pattern and impetus for such creations. According to the extent of physical reality to be achieved, the physical body of the originator transfers or transposes portions of its own chemical structure. Proteins are used, and there is a high carbohydrate loss.

Well … maybe.

I suppose one could compare it to the ectoplasmic manifestations that, according to spiritualists, are built up out of the physical constituents of sitters at a séance. Then again, according to spiritualists, such materializations can occur only in total darkness, while the materialization of thought-forms described by Seth apparently occurred in a pretty well lit environment.

Overall, I'd call this an extremely dubious claim, at best.

Some of Seth's other statements are simply incomprehensible to me, at least at this stage of reading. Perhaps they will make more sense later.

Here's an example. Seth is trying to explain the nature of time:

Time has no meaning without barriers. To put it another way, time has no meaning without the necessity to counteract against other actions. Basically, this is a gem of a description, if I do say so myself.

It may be a gem of a description, but it means zilch to me. Seth, to his credit, admits that Jane and Rob, at their present level of development, can't possibly understand what he's saying. In a series of statements spread over more than one session he tries to clarify the point:

Consider a network of wires, a maze of interlocking wires endlessly constructed so that looking through them there would seem to be no beginning or end. [Later, Seth says this is only a metaphor; there are no actual wires.] Your plane could be likened to a small position between four very spindly wires, and my plane could be likened to the small position in the neighboring wires on the other side.…

To one side, the other is transparent. You cannot see through, but the two planes move through each other constantly …

This is what I mean by fifth dimension ...

Consider that these wires are mobile, constantly trembling, and also alive in that they not only carry the stuff of the universe but are themselves projections of it …

What you call emotion or feeling is the connective tissue between us, and it is the connective that most clearly represents the life force on any plane, under any circumstances. From it is woven all material of your world and mine …

The study of time will teach you much about the nature of [the] fifth dimension also. Our imaginary wires composed of solidified vitality are fluid, I hope you understand this, even while they are solidified. For solidity is an illusion. I have also said that this feeling of vitality – and I prefer that term, vitality [apparently in reference to emotions/feelings/life force?] – is moving and itself a part of the living stuff of the universe. Now as these wires pass seemingly from plane to plane, they actually form the boundaries of each plane and become subject to the particular laws within each. Therefore, they become subject to time within your particular three-dimensional system …

The motion of the apparently solidified vitality gives the illusion of time. The counteraction involved in this case is counteraction within the core of vitality itself … The action and counteraction is the time trigger. On some other planes motion is simultaneous and time unknown.

A lot of words have been spoken here, but I don't find them very illuminating. The counteraction is within the core of vitality? Say what?

Overall, I really don't know what to make of The Seth Material so far. Jane Roberts comes across as a sincere and intelligent person, neither unbalanced nor credulous, who experienced a sudden awakening of psychic powers. Chief among these powers was the ability to channel an entity calling itself Seth, who claimed to speak words of great wisdom, but whose statements strike me as often extremely implausible or simply unintelligible.

So that's where I am now. I'm curious to see if the further explication of Seth's teachings in the rest of the book will make a difference.

Spooks run wild

As my last couple of posts have suggested, I'm certainly open to the idea that discarnate entities – "spirits" – can harass, obsess, or actually possess living persons. But I think the idea has to be treated with caution. It can easily lead in the direction of paranoia. I found this to be a problem in Dr. Edith Fiore's 1987 book The Unquiet Dead: A Psychologist Treats Spirit Possession.

Fiore, who holds a Ph.D. in clinical psychology, became interested in addressing her patients' problems via hypnosis, which eventually led to past-life regressions and what she calls "depossessions" – the removal of harassing spirits. She distinguishes depossessions from exorcisms, which involve possession by a nonhuman demonic entity. In the cases she recounts, she believes that the possessing entity is a deceased human being who has become earthbound and attached himself to a living host. She takes pains to say that spirits are only a working hypothesis which she uses because it has proven therapeutically effective, and that she is not sure spirits actually exist. This occasional caveat, though, is undermined by the bulk of the book, especially the later chapters offering advice on personal protection against spirit possession.

Her accounts and partial transcripts of some of her sessions match up well with similar case histories presented in Carl Wickland's famous 1924 study Thirty Years Among the Dead, as well as more recent spirit release narratives. This continuity across many decades was, for me, the most interesting aspect of the book. 

Here are a couple of examples. (In the quoted material, I've converted Fiore's narrative to the style of a transcript for easier reading.)

One of Fiore's patients, Peter, had a serious drinking problem that sometimes got him into barroom brawls. Though of upper-middle-class background, he frequented "the rougher sorts of establishments" favored by workingmen. A hypnosis session apparently summoned up a spirit who'd been a construction worker. Even when asked to leave, this spirit hung on, leading to this dialogue in a subsequent session:

Fiore: You're still here. What's your name?

Patient: Lou, I think.

Fiore: But why are you still here with Peter?

Patient: He lets me drink. He can be fun, and I can get him to go to my kind of places.

Fiore: What kind of places?

Patient: You know, a place that's got real men in it who know how to drink – not a bunch of stuffed shirts.

Further discussion reveals that his last memory of his previous life was an accident in which a Caterpillar tractor rolled over him.

Fiore: You were killed in that accident.

Patient: I was?

Fiore: What happened after that?

Patient: I saw a small boy playing in a backyard. He seemed pleasant enough and friendly. And I felt lonely – and lost. So I went towards him.

Fiore explained to the confused Lou that he had taken possession of Peter at that point. She persuaded him to leave. After this session, Peter no longer had problems with alcohol. For readers of Wickland, the parallels are unmistakable. 

Another patient, Paolo, came to Fiore already believing in the spirit world and intrigued with the idea that he might be possessed. During the first hypnosis session, he started speaking in a different voice. "The voice," Fiore writes, "was booming and thick-tongued, as though he were drunk."

Patient: I'm not going anywhere!

Fiore: Who are you?

Patient: George. But don't tell Paolo, that asshole!

Fiore asked if he saw anyone around him whom he knew. George saw someone named Pete, whom he knew to be dead. Even so, he resisted the idea that he himself was deceased. He continued to speak in bombastic and crude terms, saying of Paolo's wife, "I can't stand that broad! All she does is nag poor Paolo, that jerk!" He said his efforts to keep Paolo from going home were often successful (Paolo had taken to spending some nights in a motel for reasons he couldn't explain). "If I never see her again, I'd be happy. But that shit goes home when he feels bad enough. I can't stop him all the time."

Once Paolo was out of his hypnotic trance, he said, "I know that guy! That's me when I've been drinking. But it's not me!" After sharing the tape recording of the session with his wife, he told Fiore: "Kathy says she's talked to that spirit a lot. When I've been drinking, she says she sees him coming out in me. Not really seeing, but the way I act. It's George!"

After much discussion, George was apparently persuaded to leave Paolo and go into the Light.

Fiore: All right. Here's somebody to help you leave.

Patient: I don't know him. (Frantic and crying.)

Fiore: Yes, you do.

Patient: Uncle Jim.

Fiore: What does he say to you?

Patient: He asked me to go. But I don't wanna go! (Crying.) They're all dead. How can I go with dead people? (Crying hard.)

Fiore: Listen to me! Listen to me!, Yourself!

Patient: Awwww ... fuck it!

Fiore: Just calm yourself. Would you like me to explain to you everything that's happened?

Patient: Uh-huh.

At that point Fiore believed she was able to persuade the very reluctant George to go with his Uncle Jim, his mother, and his friend Pete – the "dead people" who'd come to escort him. Paolo reported happily that, "The drive to drink is nonexistent. Lots more positive feelings toward Kathy. I even like going home at night."

But the persistent George had not actually gone into the Light, after all! He was discovered to still be hanging around. It took another session to convince him to go.

Patient: A lot of people are holding their hands out to me.

Fiore: Take someone's hand.

Patient: I want to, but I just can't. Can't. (Desperately.)

Once George finally did leave, Paolo blurted out, "He's gone!" Asked how he felt, he first said (rather surprisingly), "Upset!" Then, crying, he added, "I feel free! Oh, God!… that voice I always hear is gone!… Oh, God! Oh, I wasted so much time! So much of my life, God! I've got so much to do!" (The possession had lasted from age fifteen to age fifty.) 

After more sessions, Paolo reported that his desire to drink was gone, he was going home every night, and his marital relationship was back on track. He'd dropped eight pounds without dieting and finally felt he was in charge of his own life.

All this is all interesting enough. And I'm willing to believe that the patients in the case histories Fiore highlights may well have had some problem with an overshadowing or obsessing spirit.

For me, the trouble arises in Fiore's claim (or working hypothesis?) that spirit possession is remarkably common, even ubiquitous. To help the reader determine if he is harboring an unwanted spirit (or spirits), she provides a list of signs and symptoms indicative of possession. Unfortunately, most of these feelings and behaviors are experienced by all of us at one time or another. The danger signs include:

• a persistent low energy level
• mood swings
• inner dialogues
• use of drugs and alcohol
• impulsiveness (e.g., occasional shopping sprees)
• forgetfulness (e.g. walking into a room and not remembering why you are there)
• problems with concentration ("Do you feel like you're in a fog at times? Perhaps you have a drugged entity or an elderly spirit with you.")
• anxiety or depression that comes out of the blue or stays in the background most of the time
• difficulty recuperating from illness
• difficulty reading and processing Fiore's book ("If you found it hard to read, could not finish certain cases or sections because of anxiety or any other emotional response, then you probably are resonating to possessing spirits.")

She does note that it's the overall picture, not just one or two symptoms, that really counts. Nevertheless, these are all pretty common symptoms, issues, and behaviors. It's hard to imagine anyone who wouldn't say yes to many of the things on this list.

Not surprisingly, Fiore believes that possession is not hard to come by. In fact, it can come about as a result of almost any moment of weakness. At various points we are told that

The vibrations of your aura vary constantly.... Being upset, depressed, fearful, jealous, or envious are all poisons that change the color of your aura to murky, unpleasant ones – and slow it down. The stronger the negative emotions, the weaker your protection! ... Spirits can enter a weakened aura as easily as someone can walk through an open door.

An excellent way to protect yourself is to avoid using "recreational" drugs and alcohol. The amount that weakens the aura varies from person to person and also depends on the energy level. Some of my patients have lowered their resistance with only two glasses of wine. Even getting "stoned" or drunk once can result in a possession that can last a lifetime!…

Possessions can occur after surgery or during hospitalizations.…

At funerals, and at all the events associated with them, you need extra protection around yourself.[Pages 138 – 140]

Substance abuse is often a big element in possession. If you abuse drugs and/or alcohol, you can be sure you are possessed. [Page 121]

I believe that most of my patients who were possessed by many spirits, and who frequently picked up new ones in between therapy sessions, were "uncontrolled" mediums or "sensitives." This was especially the case when they had not abused drugs and alcohol. The slightest things weakened their auras: eating a meal with MSG or taking one tablet of pain medication. Even driving by a cemetery or visiting a friend in the hospital resulted in a new possession. [Page 116]

As you can see, in Fiore's view, possession is an ever-present threat. It can happen for almost any reason – because you had a second glass of wine, or a single aspirin, or ate the wrong food, or drove past a graveyard, or underwent surgery, or even visited someone in the hospital. Elsewhere she says that using a Ouija board, attending a séance, visiting a psychic or medium, practicing automatic writing, or trying to get in touch with deceased loved ones or spirit guides can also invite possession. Moreover, children are frequently prone to possession even when they have no obvious risk factors. Apparently a child's aura is often weak enough to allow spirits to get in whenever they wish. She also believes that so-called imaginary friends in childhood are actual spirits, whose close proximity to the child naturally increases the chance of possession.

The only protection against this chronic danger is constantly invoking White Light as a shield around yourself, and also using it to cleanse your home, which can become a repository for wandering spirits. Fiore says she cleanses every room of her home on a daily basis and practices the White Light exercise whenever she feels under stress. 

Frankly, it all sounds pretty paranoid. I'm not sure that anyone really can or should live this way. If spirit possession is this easy, then most people must be possessed, at least at certain times in their lives. This is, in fact, Fiore's opinion. Not surprisingly, in her practice, she has found countless cases of possession, including cases where a given patient was possessed by dozens of spirits. She writes:

Since I became aware of this phenomenon, I found that at least seventy percent of my patients were possessed and it was this condition that caused their dis-ease [sic]. Most of these people were relieved – through depossession techniques – of more than one entity. Occasional patients were unwitting hosts to as many as fifty or more! [Page 3]

Seventy percent! Either spirit harassment is a much bigger problem than almost anyone thinks ... or Fiore's own assumptions are being imposed on her patients through the mechanism of hypnosis, which allows direct communication with the highly suggestible subconscious mind. In 1987, when her book was published, the problem of confabulation under hypnosis may not have been as well understood as it is today. Back then, it was still common for hypnotherapists to assist their patients in recovering suppressed memories of childhood abuse – memories that later turned out, in many cases, to be completely false. Families were torn apart by the complicated feelings and painful accusations resulting from these therapeutic techniques.

From what we know today, the subconscious mind is extremely eager to please, and it will follow the lead of the hypnotist in imagining a scenario consistent with the hypnotist's suggestions. This is provably true in many instances of recovered memory syndrome, and very likely true in many cases of past-life regression and spirit possession, as well.

The bottom line, as I see it, is that Fiore may well have hit upon a valid technique for dealing with certain patients who actually do suffer from spirit harassment, but she has probably taken it too far, seeing examples of the problem everywhere she looks and inculcating a hypervigilant attitude that doesn't seem conducive to inner peace or mental health.

Her book points up the possible danger of spirit contact — but also the dangers of surrendering to a worldview that may do us more harm than good.

The case of Clara

Alan Sanderson is a psychiatrist specializing in hypnotherapy, who has become an advocate of spirit release therapy – a technique by which a hypnotherapist communicates directly with spirit entities purportedly harassing a patient. One of his cases, dating from 1995, involves a patient he calls Clara. He has written about it at some length in an article called "Clara – Spirit Releasement Therapy in a Case Featuring Depression and Panic" (European Journal of Clinical Hypnosis, April 4, 1998). He also alludes to the case in a more recent article, "Spirit Release in Clinical Psychiatry – What Can We Learn?" (2014) Here I want to present an abridged version of the case, relying primarily on the first, more detailed article. (All quotations are taken from the 1998 paper.)

What intrigues me the most about those case are its obvious parallels to numerous case histories recounted in Carl Wickland's 1924 book Thirty Years Among the Dead. (Clicking this link automatically downloads a PDF to your downloads folder. The book can also be purchased at Amazon.) Wickland used a medium (his wife) to contact the spirits, while Sanderson uses hypnosis. But the resulting dialogues are strikingly similar.

Sanderson notes that "possession" cases, as studied by himself and other researchers, can involve a wide variety of conditions, including phobias, addictions, and depression. "The great majority of these cases lack a subjective sense of possession. While the patient may have the feeling of spirit proximity, for instance that a deceased relative has been close by, the identification of a spirit presence usually comes as a surprise." In other words, we're not talking about dramatic, obvious "demonic" behavior or manifestations a la The Exorcist. (I'm not sure I would use the term "possession" for these cases; "obsession" or "harassment" seem like better words.)

He finds Clara's case to be of particular interest "because the patient's complaints of depression, anxiety, headache and panic are common symptoms and the picture in no way resembled that of the popular concept of possession." He tells us that Clara had no longterm history of mental problems or psychiatric treatment, was raised in a stable family, and reported a normal childhood. By the time she came to him, however, she was seriously depressed, drank and smoked heavily, and had gained more than twenty pounds in a few months.

She describes herself in comments she contributed to the paper:

For as long as I can remember I had suffered with a profound lack of confidence. In situations of confrontation, pressure or stress I never felt in control of my thoughts or decisions. I experienced quite severe mood swings that I could not explain. Since adulthood, I have had problems in maintaining relationships, particularly with men, often experiencing feelings of consuming love for them one day and extreme loathing the next.

Following the failure of my second marriage, in my mid-twenties, I was left with two young children to bring up. There was no sense of purpose to my life and I felt a frightening lack of control. I entered another relationship, but this began to deteriorate soon after the birth of my third child, when I was thirty. I felt I had hardly enter any energy for a person of my age. I experienced frequent pains in my head, feelings of extreme fear, and these, alongside my low self-esteem, made me begin to feel that I would probably be better off dead. My relationship ended and I sunk into total despair. I started saying things to the children and my family that I never would normally have even thought of. I could not predict my moods at all and often felt that somebody else had taken control of me. I was totally in fear of myself. During an outing with my parents I became terribly anxious, the pains in my head were intolerable and I collapsed and was admitted to hospital.

Sanderson helped control her anxiety by teaching her self-hypnosis. In a self-hypnosis session at home, "she had attempted to return to the pre-natal period [and] had become aware of a scene involving two young women, dressed in the fashion of one hundred and fifty years ago, in a street market." Intrigued, Sanderson explored this apparent memory in their next session, on June 5, 1995. His technique was to hypnotize his subject and then directly address the subconscious mind. This session and a subsequent session on June 12 were audiotaped and transcribed.

Sanderson inquired, "Subconscious mind, is there anybody with Clara who is not actually part of her?" Clara indicated that there were two such entities. One was a 31-year-old woman named Henrietta who died of a fever while attended by her sister Matilda. Sanderson then addressed Henrietta directly.

Therapist: Henrietta, just go on now to the time when you lose your body. Tell me what your perception is.

Patient: Slipping.

Therapist: Yes. As you leave your body what are you aware of?

Patient: The sky. The light.

Therapist: Is this the sunlight?

Patient: A bright light, a white light....

Therapist: Are you aware of your body? Are you aware of the body you have left behind you?

Patient: Yes, I can see that. I can see that.

Therapist: Yes. Can you see Matilda there too?

Patient: Yes, I see her. And my bed.

Therapist: Yes. All right. Are you aware of how you are? Are you dressed?

Patient: Yes, I'm dressed – and I'm well.

Therapist: All right, Henrietta, just go on now and tell me what happens.

Patient: I come into a sitting place, and I sit down. I feel happy. I can't see anyone.

Therapist: Yes. Could you describe the sitting place, Henrietta?

Patient: Like a bench.

Therapist: Aha! And how about the surroundings, are there any surroundings?

Patient: Just a bench … and just a very clear white light. [I] just sit there waiting with my basket.

She sat, evidently, for some indeterminate span of time. No one came for her, and at some point she found herself back on earth, in a garden, where she saw an unfamiliar four-year-old girl. This was Clara.

Therapist: So what is it about Clara, Henrietta, which causes you to feel you need to join her?

Patient: She's just playing and happy, laughing. I don't want to be on my own.

Therapist: So is it just that this is a little girl who is happy and laughing? Is there no particular affinity between you and her?

Patient: I don't think so.

Therapist: All right. And does little Clara have any particular weakness that allows you to enter her?

Patient: Well, she feels very lonely.

Therapist: Feeling lonely, is she?

Patient: Yes.

Therapist: So you are entering her now. Is there anyone else with Clara, when you enter her?

Patient: Oh, yes. Gladys, yes. She's there.

Therapist: Gladys? Ah, you mean there's someone else in the garden with her?

Patient: No, no, there is someone inside her.

Therapist: There's someone inside her. I see. Is it Gladys? Is Gladys the other person who's with her now?

Patient: Yes.

Therapist: I see. Yeah. Do you and Gladys communicate?

Patient: Oh, yes.

A little more dialogue with Henrietta established that Henrietta didn't stay with Clara all the time, but sometimes returned to her bench to sit by herself. After this, Sanderson asked her to step back and let Gladys come forward for an interview.

Therapist: How old was Clara when you joined her?

Patient: When she was born.

Therapist: I see. At the moment of birth or before?

Patient: No, when she was born – at the moment of birth.

Therapist: At the moment of birth. I see. What was it that attracted you to her then?

Patient: She needed me to help her.

Therapist: Ah. Why did you feel that Clara needed you particularly? Most newborn babies manage on their own.

Patient: No, she needed some help. She was very angry.

Therapist: Ah. Did you understand that, why she…?

Patient. Oh, yes, yes.

Therapist: What made you feel that she…? Did you understand why she should have been angry?

Patient: Yes, yes. I know her parents.

Therapist: Oh, I see. You mean she was angry because there had been difficulties with her parents and she hadn't … been exactly welcomed initially, had she, initially? … Gladys, when you say you knew her parents, you sound almost like a family friend.

Patient: Oh no, no! I'm her great aunt.

Gladys joined with Clara in order to guide her through life. Sanderson asked her to reexperience her own death, an idea she resisted in this session. She died, she said, in 1947. She exhibited a sharp distrust of men and disapproved of the men in Clara's life, whom she called "brutes."

Therapist: I think this is something I shall want to discuss with Clara, because I am sure she has been quite unaware of your presence with her. Now that she is aware of it, it really should be she who decides, wouldn't you agree, whether you stay with her or not? After all, she hasn't invited you in, has she?

Patient: No, but she needs me.

Therapist: Shall I discuss it with Clara? Do you think …

Patient: She doesn't listen.

Therapist: Can you help her to understand the picture, in the marketplace, of the two young women?

Patient: Oh, yes.

Therapist: Do clarify that for us, please.

Patient: It's this girl, she comes in sometimes.

Therapist: Henrietta?

Patient: Yes, she's there sometimes. She comes and she goes, she comes and she goes. She is very sweet.

Therapist: But there's another figure, in the marketplace with her.

Patient: Yes, that's her sister. She doesn't come.

This was the end of the hypnosis in the June 5 session. After Clara was brought out of trance, Sanderson asked her to make inquiries about her family tree.

Clara offers her own impressions of this first session:

We made contact with one of the young women in the market and as she spoke I was aware that it was through my voice but I felt a total bystander – as if I was watching a stage play.... I felt little emotion up to [the point when Gladys came forward] other than total fascination. However, as soon as Gladys started to speak I immediately felt tense and intimidated. As Gladys continued to speak it transpired that she was one of my great aunts who had died long before my birth. She struck me as being a very forceful character and she did make me feel like a frightened little child as she spoke of having looked after me since I was born.…

I did not use self-hypnosis between my [June 5 and June 12] sessions with the doctor but I had a good week and felt much more in control of my life. During the week I had learned that Aunt Gladys was indeed a relation who had had a difficult and sad life and had died in her mid-fifties after her marriage to a brutal husband.

In the second session, on June 12, Sanderson got Gladys to talk about her anger at her husband Michael and her grief over her son Roy's death at age twenty-eight. He then took her through an exercise in which she relived her moment of passing while this time choosing to leave her anger and grief behind.

Therapist: And now, the anger about Michael, who was impossible, who battered you, and cheated you, and gave you such a difficult time that you didn't at all deserve.... And Gladys, you lived you have lived through all that, and now allow yourself to let go of it, you don't need it. You don't need the anger, you don't need the memories of those bad times. Are you ready to let go of that anger, Gladys?

Patient: Yes.

Therapist: Good. Leave that in the body which you are about to leave behind. Now think back to the time with Roy. Think how proud you were as a young mother when he was born. That was a wonderful time – so proud of yourself. At last a boy, and he grew up so beautifully, and you were so proud of him right to his childhood. And then as a young man? Was he very good-looking?

Patient: Um. (full of emotion) Oh yes, he was wonderful.

Therapist: And then, the accident and that made you so sad. That's what really broke you, wasn't it? It made you so unhappy.

Patient: (sobbing)

Therapist: But, Gladys, do you know something, when you decide to leave Clara, and go into the Light, you can be with Roy again, and meet him again. Did you realize that?… And now just have the experience of gently rising up out of your body, leaving behind the anger at your early death, leaving behind the anger with Michael, leaving behind the anger at the loss of Roy. Just rise up out of your body now. How does it feel to be released from it?

Patient: Yes, wonderful.…

Therapist: And Gladys, now you are here with Clara and you have done a great job, looking after Clara, helping her as she grew up, to be more practical and down to earth.… And you have helped her not to be taken in sometimes, you have made her realize, sometimes, before she made a mistake, and sometimes afterward. But you have always done her best for her.

Patient: Well, I thought so.

Therapist: Yes, surely you have. And surely Clara feels gratitude to you for all those very good intentions.

Patient: No, she doesn't.…

Therapist: So now, when you are ready, all you need to do, Gladys, is just to look around and you see Roy. Just look around and see.

Patient: Oh, yes. (excitedly)….

Therapist: And now, he is here to take you into the Light, to introduce you into the spirit world, where there is so much good to experience and to learn.

Clara's perspective:

During my next session, Gladys, after some persuasion, agreed to let us help her. She was encouraged back to the time of her death. I could see the scenes so well, just like watching a film rolling, able to observe everything but unable to control the images put out. However, the images did start to emotionally affect me and I experienced the sense of fear and anger that she was speaking about. As Gladys left her dead body I felt a peculiar floating sensation. She then said she could see her son Roy in a bright light and that she wanted to go with him. I saw her look so happy and I could feel her relief and excitement. As she passed, I too felt relief.

After this, Gladys was gone from the scene, and it was Henrietta's turn in the spotlight. One anomaly reported by Sanderson is that her sister's name "unaccountably changes" from Matilda to Miranda. This sort of inconsistency is common in many forms of after-death communication and, while it may be seized upon as evidence of subconscious confabulation, it may just as easily be seen as a minor glitch in memory or transmission.

In any event, Henrietta was easily persuaded to leave when her Uncle Bert showed up to collect her.

Speaking again to Clara's subconscious, Sanderson discovered two more spirit entities. This discovery prompted Clara to place her hand to her head as if in agitation.

Therapist: What is the work that needs to be done still?

Patient: We need to help Jack.

Therapist: We need to help Jack. Yes. Tell me about Jack.

Patient: He's with me. He's frightened.

Therapist: Who is Jack?

Patient: I don't know him.

Therapist: Was it Jack that seemed to give you that pain [in the head]?

Patient: Um.

Therapist: What was it you were feeling then?

Patient: Just pulling, pulling on me, like a sharp pain. He's so frightened. He's crying.

Therapist: Is Jack a child, is that the impression you have?

Patient: No, he's not a child, he's a young man.

Sanderson made contact with Jack and asked what he was frightened of. Jack replied that he was afraid there would be no one to meet him on the other side because he'd been a bad person, a petty criminal and drug addict who died at age seventeen in 1965.

Therapist: How was it that you came to join Clara? How old is she when you join her?

Patient: Four or five – a little girl.

Therapist: Is she? What is it that attracts you to Clara?

Patient: Well, I just felt lost… She's very sweet, happy. I want to be like that.

Therapist: Yes. As you go to her, so as you enter her, do you realize, is there anyone else with her?

Patient: Yes, Gladys.

Therapist: Yeah. What does she do? How did she feel when you come?

Patient: I just … she's saying … no, no!

Therapist: She tries to stop you?

Patient: Yes, she tries to say get out but I'm not going to.

Jack was prompted to describe his own death, which occurred when he stepped off the sidewalk and was hit by a car.

Patient: My head… Oooooh!

Therapist: All right, Jack, when I put my hand there, that [pain] goes away, and you feel good again. That's right, now that good feeling is coming into your head. So you are looking round, and you are feeling lost. Do you realize you have lost your body at this point?

Patient: Yes, I can see me there.

He remembered accompanying his body in an ambulance until it reached the hospital. Sanderson then directed him into the Light in the company of his mother.

Clara writes:

As we helped [Jack] to reexperience his death, I felt, in my head, the pains I had experienced before my admission to hospital, and these got more painful as he relived his own death as a result of a head injury. As soon as Jack left, the pains disappeared.

But there was still one more entity, Tony Gizzard, age forty-one. The least alert of the four, he sounded dazed and exhausted.

Therapist: How old was Clara when you joined her?

Patient: Twenty-three.

Therapist: I see. And, Tony, you realize of course that you lost your body?

Patient: I don't … Yeah, yeah, er … I'm not really sure.

Therapist: You're not sure.

Patient: No.

Therapist: Well, you know Clara's a woman, don't you?

Patient: Well, er … I've been asleep.

Therapist: Oh! You've been asleep, have you? Well, that can happen, that people lose their bodies and they feel that they've been asleep for a long time. But, Tony, you're awake now, aren't you?

Patient: Yeah.

Therapist: And you see, what's happened is that you actually lost your body and you're a spirit now and you have joined another person, another living person with a body of her own.

Patient: Um.

Therapist: So you've joined Clara, who is a woman, and you're in a woman's body now. Tony, what year is it for you?

Patient: 1982.

Therapist: 1982, is it? Well, you may be surprised to hear that it is now 1995.

Patient: Oh!

Sanderson regressed Tony to the time period a few minutes before his death so that he could reexperience his passing without distress. He was lodging in a bedsit in London, lying drunk on the floor. And then he just went to sleep, or so it seemed.

Therapist: Oh, you go to sleep, do you? All right. Well, it seems to me that what seems to you like sleep may be you losing your body, your body actually dying. It can happen, you know.

Patient: Um.

Therapist: So just be aware of what happens. And perhaps you are aware of coming out of that body?

Patient: Oh, yeah!

Therapist: You are coming out of it now, are you?

Patient: Oh, yeah. I'm getting up now and going down …

Therapist: What's happened to your body?

Patient: Oh, I can see … I've left it there! I can see now.

Therapist: Ah! And it's a bit confusing, isn't it?

Patient: Yeah, 'cos I'm meant to be in the 100 Club – I'm going there.

Tony recounted his visit to this club, where he sat at the bar but inexplicably did not receive a drink or chat with anyone. He tried talking to a girl but she didn't respond, just as if he wasn't there.

Therapist: You mean she ignores you?

Patient: Yeah, I get really cross … Silly cow. (under his breath)

Therapist: What do you call her?

Patient: Silly cow.

Therapist: All right. Go on now, what do you do next?

Patient: Oh, God, I'm in her…. Hm. Ha. (rather embarrassed, amused)

Therapist: You're in her, are you?

Patient: Yeah, that's where I am.

Therapist: This is the girl who wouldn't speak to you?

Patient: Yeah.

Therapist: This is Clara?

Patient: Yeah.

Therapist: I see, yeah. So that's a surprise. You didn't mean to join her?

Patient: No. Oh …

Therapist: So, that explains a lot to you, doesn't it, Tony? You joined her by mistake. You didn't realize you had lost your body!

Patient: Oh no, that's right.

Therapist: Well, Tony these things can happen, and here you are, and you've been with Clara ever since then.

Patient: Oh.

Therapist: Have you been aware of Clara's life and what she's been doing?

Patient: No, I've been asleep most of the time.

This was the last dialogue that proved necessary. Tony was urged into the Light, and Clara was taken out of the trance.

Clara remembers:

Tony was the last person to come forward. He was obviously totally confused with the whole circumstances. He had died in an alcoholic stupor, and I did wonder about my own excesses with alcohol, which had started at exactly the age that Tony said he joined me. I was brought back to full awareness and felt very light-headed, drained and quite low in spirit.

Over the next few weeks I noticed many changes in myself. I instantly had so much energy and now have an average 25 per cent less sleep than before my treatment although I am twice as active during the day. I started to feel more and more relaxed about everything in my life as the feeling that someone was looking over my shoulder ready to criticize me at every turn had disappeared.… In the fifteen months since the end of my treatment I no longer have any pains in my head or feel the urge to drink excessive amounts of alcohol. I have lost 15 kg [33 pounds] excess weight, without dieting, and am down to five cigarettes a day. My moods are much more reliable and I am nothing like so sensitive to people's remarks as I used to be.

She added that she still used self-hypnosis to help herself relax, but she had not experienced any more unexpected images like the Victorian women in the marketplace.

In his discussion of the case, Sanderson notes that as of 1998 he had treated more than 100 patients using the spirit release technique. Sometimes the effects were "strikingly beneficial," as in Clara's case; at other times, the effects were "transitory or absent." He had not seen any negative effects. He observes that Clara's case could be interpreted as "the effect of hypnosis on an over-suggestible subject," though he clearly prefers to see it as "an indication of a spiritual reality, which demands exploration."

In his 2014 piece, which summarizes the Clara case, Sanderson adds that he last spoke to Clara in 2004 (nine years after the treatment), when she was still "happy and in excellent health."

Son of anarchy

Continuing the discussion in my last post, I'd like to look at one particular serial killer — David Berkowitz, aka the Son of Sam, who terrorized New York City in 1976 and 1977 — and see if the spirit-possession hypothesis fits the facts of the case.

First, here are the relevant parts of Berkowitz's biography, taken from the Wikipedia page on Son of Sam.

Berkowitz, who was adopted as an infant, was said to have a "troubled" childhood.

Although of above-average intelligence, he lost interest in learning at an early age and became infatuated with petty larceny and starting fires. Neighbors and relatives would recall Berkowitz as difficult, spoiled, and a bully. His adoptive parents consulted at least one psychotherapist due to his misconduct, but his misbehavior never resulted in legal intervention or serious mention in his school records.

When Berkowitz was twenty-three, after a stint in the Army and an honorable discharge, the killings began. One theory is that the murders were triggered by Berkowitz's discovery that he'd been born outside of wedlock, and that both his natural father and a prospective stepfather had been unwilling to care for him. Why this should have upset his mental balance and produced an animus against young women with long dark hair is unclear.

Berkowitz began ambushing couples in parked cars, shooting them with a .44 revolver. As his crimes gained notoriety, he left a message at the scene of one killing. It was a long rambling missive written in crude block letters with many misspellings.

I am deeply hurt by your calling me a wemon hater. I am not. But I am a monster. I am the "Son of Sam." I am a little "brat". When father Sam gets drunk he gets mean. He beats his family. Sometimes he ties me up to the back of the house. Other times he locks me in the garage. Sam loves to drink blood. "Go out and kill" commands father Sam. Behind our house some rest. Mostly young — raped and slaughtered — their blood drained — just bones now. Papa Sam keeps me locked in the attic, too. I can't get out but I look out the attic window and watch the world go by. I feel like an outsider. I am on a different wave length then everybody else—programmed too kill. However, to stop me you must kill me. Attention all police: Shoot me first — shoot to kill or else. Keep out of my way or you will die! Papa Sam is old now. He needs some blood to preserve his youth. He has had too many heart attacks. Too many heart attacks. "Ugh, me hoot it urts sonny boy." I miss my pretty princess most of all. She's resting in our ladies house but I'll see her soon. I am the "Monster" — "Beelzebub" — the "Chubby Behemouth." I love to hunt. Prowling the streets looking for fair game — tasty meat. The wemon of Queens are z prettyist of all. I must be the water they drink. I live for the hunt—my life. Blood for papa. Mr. Borrelli, sir, I dont want to kill anymore no sir, no more but I must, "honour thy father." I want to make love to the world. I love people. I don't belong on Earth. Return me to yahoos. To the people of Queens, I love you. And I wa want to wish all of you a happy Easter. May God bless you in this life and in the next and for now I say goodbye and goodnight. Police — Let me haunt you with these words; I'll be back! I'll be back! To be interrpreted as — bang, bang, bang, bank, bang — ugh!! Yours in murder Mr. Monster

It was this message that gave the killer his nickname. On the basis of this document, psychological profilers described him as a paranoid schizophrenic who "believed himself to be a victim of demonic possession."

A letter to prominent New York City columnist Jimmy Breslin followed. This one was more polished in spelling, grammar, and printing.

Hello from the gutters of N.Y.C. which are filled with dog manure, vomit, stale wine, urine and blood. Hello from the sewers of N.Y.C. which swallow up these delicacies when they are washed away by the sweeper trucks. Hello from the cracks in the sidewalks of N.Y.C. and from the ants that dwell in these cracks and feed in the dried blood of the dead that has settled into the cracks. ... You can forget about me if you like because I don't care for publicity. However you must not forget Donna Lauria [one of his victims] and you cannot let the people forget her either. She was a very, very sweet girl but Sam's a thirsty lad and he won't let me stop killing until he gets his fill of blood. Mr. Breslin, sir, don't think that because you haven't heard from me for a while that I went to sleep. No, rather, I am still here. Like a spirit roaming the night. Thirsty, hungry, seldom stopping to rest; anxious to please Sam. I love my work. Now, the void has been filled. ... [I]f I shall be fortunate enough to meet you I will tell you all about Sam if you like and I will introduce you to him. His name is "Sam the terrible." Not knowing what the future holds I shall say farewell and I will see you at the next job. Or should I say you will see my handiwork at the next job? Remember Ms. Lauria. Thank you. In their blood and from the gutter "Sam's creation" .44 Here are some names to help you along. Forward them to the inspector for use by N.C.I.C: [sic] "The Duke of Death" "The Wicked King Wicker" "The Twenty Two Disciples of Hell" "John 'Wheaties' – Rapist and Suffocator of Young Girls. PS: Please inform all the detectives working the slaying to remain. ... Son of Sam

 

The Daily News sold a record-breaking 1.1 million copies when it printed the letter to Breslin. 

About three months later, Berkowitz was captured. By all accounts he showed no distress when placed under arrest. One version has him ask the police what took them so long, while in another version he tells the detective, "I'm Sam," adding, "Sam. David Berkowitz."

Berkowitz's apartment was a mess, "with Satanic graffiti on the walls." Police found diaries kept for years, recording "hundreds of arsons that he claimed to have set throughout New York City."

In his initial interrogation Berkowitz "quickly confessed to the shootings and expressed an interest in pleading guilty. During questioning, Berkowitz claimed that his neighbor's dog was one of the reasons that he killed, stating that the dog demanded the blood of pretty young girls. He said that the 'Sam' mentioned in the first letter was his former neighbor Sam Carr. Berkowitz claimed that Carr's black labrador retriever Harvey was possessed by an ancient demon and that it issued irresistible commands that Berkowitz must kill people."

Berkowitz's capture

In a post-arrest letter to a New York newspaper, "Berkowitz alluded to his original story of demonic possession but closed with a warning that has been interpreted by some investigators as an admission of criminal accomplices: 'There are other Sons out there, God help the world.'"

Two years later, however, Berkowitz publicly disavowed his earlier claims of demonic possession. "Berkowitz stated in a series of meetings with his special court-appointed psychiatrist David Abrahamsen that he had long contemplated murder to get revenge at a world that he felt had rejected and hurt him.Berkowitz claimed he felt particular anger due to his lack of success with women, and thus singled out attractive young women as victims."

In ensuing years,

Berkowitz began to claim that he had joined a Satanic cult in the spring of 1975. In 1993, Berkowitz made these claims known when he announced to the press that he had only killed three of the Son of Sam victims.... In his revised version of the events, Berkowitz said that other shooters were involved and that he fired the gun only in the first attack ... and the sixth.... He said that he and several other cult members were involved in every incident by planning the events, providing early surveillance of the victims, and acting as lookouts and drivers at the crime scenes. Berkowitz stated that he could not divulge the names of most of his accomplices without putting his family directly at risk....

Berkowitz did name two of the cult members: John and Michael Carr. The two men were sons of the dog-owner Sam Carr and they lived on nearby Warburton Avenue. Both of these other "sons of Sam" were long dead: John Carr had been killed by a shooting judged a suicide in North Dakota during 1978, and Michael Carr had been in a fatal car accident in 1979.

Although an investigation into Berkowitz's claims was opened, nothing came of it, and most authorities see his story as a fantasy.

After ten years in prison, Berkowitz became an evangelical Christian. He has said he does not deserve parole. He remains in prison today. He is now 65 years old.

That's a bare summary. What I'd like to do is look at this story from the standpoint that Berkowitz really was possessed (or obsessed or harassed) by a controlling entity — not necessarily a "demon" in the Biblical sense, but some malevolent postmortem personality that remained earthbound. Please note that I'm not by any means insisting that this interpretation is correct. This is more in the nature of a thought experiment, a "what if" scenario.

It's clear that Berkowitz was somewhat unstable in his formative years, yet he doesn't appear to have begun committing homicides until age 23. This is a bit late for the arrival of full-blown schizophrenia in males, but not implausibly so. I think it can be assumed that Berkowitz was genuinely psychotic.

This fact in itself doesn't rule out possession. Dr. Carl Wickland, in his pioneering 1924 study Thirty Years Among the Dead, offers many examples of schizophrenic patients who were apparently cured or at least greatly improved by a session with his wife, a medium, who would contact the obsessing spirit and persuade it to leave the patient alone. If there are harassing spirits, it seems likely that they would focus their attention on the most vulnerable humans — those who are already weakened by mental illness or by an addiction to alcohol or drugs. This, in fact, is the consistent message conveyed by mediums and automatists.

Although Berkowitz later denied his claim of demonic possession, it's noteworthy that even before he was caught, psychological profilers attributed this belief to him on the basis of his first message, and that, after his capture, "Satanic graffiti" was found on the walls of his apartment. One possibility is that Berkowitz really did believe he was possessed, but later rejected the idea under pressure from his psychiatrist, who likely saw it as an unhealthy fixation and an attempt to disown personal responsibility. Even after publicly disavowing the possession idea, Berkowitz continued to insist that there was a Satanic connection to the attacks, speaking of a mysterious cult populated by people who went unnamed or were conveniently dead.

"There are other Sons out there, God help the world," Berkowitz wrote after his arrest. This has been interpreted as possibly pointing to accomplices, but another reading is that there are other people on Earth who are targets of harassing spirits and who will be driven to the same homicidal behavior. "God help the world" takes on a different meaning in this context.

In his first, semiliterate message, Berkowitz presents himself as a kind of demonic entity:

I am a monster. I am the "Son of Sam." ... Sam loves to drink blood. "Go out and kill" commands father Sam.... Papa Sam keeps me locked in the attic, too. I can't get out but I look out the attic window and watch the world go by. I feel like an outsider.

There was no real-life attic. Could this image reflect the experience of a person trapped in his own body, with no will of his own, compelled to watch "like an outsider" as he does unspeakable things?

I am on a different wave length then everybody else — programmed too kill. However, to stop me you must kill me. Attention all police: Shoot me first — shoot to kill or else. Keep out of my way or you will die!

"On a different wave length" is an interesting choice of words. It's become a cliche in spiritualism to talk about levels of vibration, with the lower frequencies corresponding to undeveloped earthbound spirits. Note also that part of him, at least, seems eager to die. ("You must kill me. Shoot me first.")

I am the "Monster" — "Beelzebub" — the "Chubby Behemouth." I love to hunt. Prowling the streets looking for fair game — tasty meat.... I live for the hunt — my life. Blood for papa. Mr. Borrelli, sir, I dont want to kill anymore no sir, no more but I must, "honour thy father." I want to make love to the world. I love people. I don't belong on Earth. Return me to yahoos.

This is tolerably explicit. He is Beezelbub, hunting victims ("tasty meat") to provide "blood for papa." He must kill to "honour" his father. He doesn't belong on Earth. Even the enigmatic words "return me to yahoos" could be significant. Yahoos are low-level, unevolved, semihuman creatures — "a race of brutes ... who have the form and all the vices of humans," according to Merriam-Webster.

And I wa [sic] want to wish all of you a happy Easter. May God bless you in this life and in the next and for now I say goodbye and goodnight. Police—Let me haunt you with these words; I'll be back! I'll be back!

The mocking reference to Easter is just what we would expect to hear from a possessed person, and the references to the next life and to haunting also suggest a strongly supernatural cast to his thinking. No wonder the profilers concluded that he believed he was possessed.

The letter to Breslin is essentially more of the same.

Sam's a thirsty lad and he won't let me stop killing until he gets his fill of blood.... I am still here. Like a spirit roaming the night. Thirsty, hungry, seldom stopping to rest; anxious to please Sam. I love my work. Now, the void has been filled.

Berkowitz's thinking is obviously deeply confused. I suspect it always will be. He seems to veer from one explanation of his behavior to another — demonic possession, a pathological response to female rejection, membership in a Satanic cult. But perhaps all these explanations contain an element of truth.

Let's suppose that Berkowitz, in his instability and vulnerability, became prey to a malign influence from the spirit world. He would indeed have been possessed or obsessed. At the same time, his focus on young women could well reflect his personal frustrations, which the possessing entity used for its own purposes.

Moreover, why should we limit our hypothesis to a single possessing entity? Perhaps, like the Biblical demoniac infested by a "legion," Berkowitz was harassed by multiple entities that ganged up on him. Could this be the source of his later confused account of a Satanic cult, of which he was only a member? Maybe his accomplices were real enough, but not anything earthly.

Berkowitz today

In prison Berkowitz has become a born-again Christian. He is said to be a model prisoner. He has expressed remorse and declined to seek parole. The mother of one of his victims even forgave him. He seems to have found some kind of peace. Could it be that by aligning himself with a more benevolent supernatural mythos, he has closed the door to "demonic" intervention? The Tibetan Book of the Dead advises the recently deceased person not to believe in the frightening thought-forms that may appear before him. But if he is unable to see through these illusions, he can try instead to align himself with a more positive thought-form, such as the image of an iconic deity. For many Westerners, this would be the image of Jesus Christ, which may be why Jesus crops up in many Western near-death experiences and mediumistic communications. The same effect may be found in our earthly state; focusing on Jesus as a source of "higher vibrations" may help ward off the entities that feed on "lower vibrations." Perhaps Berkowitz's fundamentalism is a crude but necessary psychological defense against the unseen forces that have assailed him throughout his life.

Again, this is only a thought experiment. I don't know what really made David Berkowitz become the Son of Sam. No doubt it was a combination of things. Was one of those things the intense mental pressure of a harassing low-level spirit (or group of spirits)? I can't say. But the case itself arguably provides some support for this interpretation.

The killer angels

Without doubt, we humans took an important step forward when we stopped attributing every unexplained phenomenon, whether in the world around us or in our own psyches, to the action of supernatural forces. But is it possible that we've carried this undeniably successful and productive approach too far? Perhaps in some cases, especially cases of extremely aberrant human behavior, there is a supernatural component, whether we're talking about miracles performed by saints or heinous crimes committed by the type of people we still characterize as "monsters."

In other words, can some varieties of evil be better understood in terms of spirit possession or obsession, rather than as a simple breakdown of neurochemistry in combination with subconscious drives?

I became more interested in this question after reading about the serial killer Charles Cullen, who, in his capacity as a nurse,  murdered at least forty patients and probably many more.  Throughout his life, Cullen  made repeated suicide attempts, starting at the age of nine, when he drank chemicals from a chemistry set. After joining the Navy, he attempted suicide seven times before receiving a medical discharge. His first confirmed murders occurred a decade later, after which he attempted suicide on four occasions – three times in 1993 and again in 2000.

Now, it could be argued that these suicide attempts were not serious, since none of them succeeded. But at least some of them do appear to have been legitimate attempts at ending his own life. It's doubtful that, as a nine-year-old, he would have been sure that the chemicals he ingested would not prove fatal. And his last attempt, in 2000, was thwarted only because neighbors smelled the smoke coming from a charcoal grill he'd lit inside his apartment in the hope of poisoning himself with carbon monoxide.

At the very least, it appears that Charles Cullen was a deeply divided personality. On one hand, he murdered scores of people over a long period, with no apparent hesitation or remorse. On the other hand, he repeatedly tried to take his own life, as if he found his homicidal obsessions intolerable. Is this inner conflict rooted only in psychological or neurological dysfunction, or could it be indicative of an external personality trying to control and distort his behavior, and of his increasingly desperate attempts to escape?

The latter argument is in line with the position taken by Dr. Terence J. Palmer in a 2008 paper titled "Are They Evil, Mad or Possessed?" Palmer argues that "previous investigations have neglected important data due to an epistemology that is fundamentally physical and rationalistic." He focuses specifically on Dr. Helen Morrison's 2004 book My Life Among the Serial Killers.

Morrison, a forensic psychiatrist, interviewed more than eighty serial killers. She wrote:

I have found that serial murderers do not relate to others on any level that you would expect one person to relate to another. They can play roles beautifully; create complex, earnest performances to which no Hollywood Oscar winner could hold a candle. They can imagine anything. They can appear to be complete and whole human beings, and in some cases are seen to be pillars of society. But they are missing a very essential core of human relatedness.

It is this "dark, barren core" (Morrison's term), this absence of normal human feeling, that Palmer interprets in spiritualist, rather than positivist, terms. He takes a close look at Morrison's descriptions of the killers she interviewed and finds alternative explanations for their psychology.

One of them, Richard Macek, "wanted to be more than he was" (Morrison's words). Palmer observes that this observation implies a duality in Macek, "one personality that was human and one that wasn't." Morrison's sole attempt at hypnotizing Macek  ended in disaster with Macek "suffering severe emotional and physical trauma." As a result, she never used hypnosis again, which meant she had no means of uncovering any hidden memories and buried motivations. This approach tended to limit her to physicalistic explanations.

Morrison interviewed the sister of serial killer John Wayne Gacy. The sister recalled that Gacy once passed out after drinking too much, and when he came to, "he was like someone who was drunk, but he wasn't drunk. Something in his voice was different. It was not his voice." Palmer takes this story as additional evidence of a deep-rooted duality consistent with possession or obsession by an external personality.

Another killer often "appeared frightened for no reason, and his eyes darted about the room" (Morrison's words). Still another was so overcome by fear that at times he would run into his closet to hide for no apparent reason. Palmer writes:

It could be argued that at a deep unconscious level all serial killers are terrified of what possesses them, and an understanding of how we all protect ourselves from something mysterious and terrifying would shed much light on why some people become serial killers. To put this principle into ordinary everyday life, it is known that the bullied often becomes the bully.

Some killers have heard voices ordering them to kill – usually a commanding, terrifying voice. Schizophrenia, or something more? Palmer notes that psychiatrists using so-called "spirit release" techniques have had some success in treating such symptoms. He cites the work of Alan Sanderson (a 2003 paper called "Consciousness as it Relates to the Nature of Psychiatric Disorder") and Andrew Powell ("The Contribution of Spirit Release Therapy to Mental Health"). A more familiar example may be Thirty Years Among the Dead, the famous 1924 book by Carl Wickland.

The killer Bobby Joe Long once spontaneously wrote "I am Darkness. I have always been." Morrison dismisses this writing as mere self-dramatizing hyperbole, but what if it was more than that?

Writing about the emotional immaturity of serial killers in general, Morrison asks:

Who, other than an infant, feels like he is controlling not just the world, but the universe around him? Who else but an infant feels so important that he thinks he is the center of the universe? And who else but a child would think in this way for no particular reason, not for wealth, not for power, not for human domination, but just to maintain and protect his own personal cosmos?"  

Palmer notes that true accounts of possession and exorcism written by M. Scott Peck and Malachi Martin indicate that "the emotional development of the subject was impaired by the possessing entity. The subjects were not able to grow emotionally and reach their true potential until they had been relieved of the possessing entity." Furthermore, an evil entity in touch with ultimate powers of darkness might well regard itself in such terms. 

Not all medical practitioners reject the possession hypothesis. Dr Hans Naegeli-Osjord, writing in 1988, observed:

This phenomenon [of dissociative identity disorder, or multiple personalities] should not be viewed exclusively as possession or multiple personality, but [rather] some cases may be a result of dissociated personalities, while others are more likely to be cases of harassment by the spirit of a deceased person.… Both multiple personality and harassment should be considered when viewing the entire range of such disorders.… In cases of weakened ego and/or extreme stress, external entities may invade or harass the person to the point where counseling or treatment is indicated to enable the patient to return to a normal state.

The killer Bobby Joe Long once dreamed that someone asked him if he believed in God. In the dream he replied that he did not. His interrogator then "went hysterical, pointing at me and laughing." Palmer notes:

We can perhaps see how Bobby Joe's demon had justification for his hysterical laughter. Bobby Joe in his rejection of a belief in God was in no position to have a belief in demons either, rendering him helpless and defenseless and holding himself responsible for his crimes.

Palmer sees such dreams as "the soul of the serial killer … expressing his fear and screaming out for help," a cry that Morrison missed because she simply assumed, on the basis of Long's absence of affect, that there was no emotional connection between Long and his dreams.

After watching a movie about the Boston Strangler, Long wrote to Morrison:

It was the most scary f-----g  movie I ever saw. It was like watching ME in action. ... I remember him tying one to a bed and she started fighting. I had been through the same thing. I knew how the guy felt. Like a mirror. I swear. [The word "ME" is in all caps in the original] 

 Morrison also noted that Long frequently complained about a strange feeling in his head, as if part of his head "had a kind of life of its own… Long said that something in his head and even in his body changed when someone close to him … did him wrong." Long himself said:

It's similar to before I used to get into a fight, or just before I bust somebody's face. The anger. The blank thought. It's like I was void of thought. Like I left for a little while, then came back after.

 At one point he wrote to her in all caps:

IT'S NOT A GOOD FEELING TO KNOW MY LIFE IS OVER. TO KNOW THAT AT THE VERY BEST I'LL BE LOCKED UP LIKE AN ANIMAL THE REST OF MY LIFE. ALL BECAUSE I KILLED A BUNCH OF SLUTS AND WHORES AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW - WHY? 

Frankly, I don't know how much credence to place in the spirit-harassment hypothesis. I was fairly impressed with Wickland's pioneering study, but I haven't kept up with more recent work. As time permits, I intend to do more reading, starting with some of the links listed above. Other possible sources of information are Alan Sanderson's paper "Spirit Release in Clinical Psychiatry" and Terence Palmer's website.