THE RESEARCHERS RESEARCHED: A REPLY TO THE CYNICS

by Dennis Elwell

Introduction

As one astrologer who came away from 'Year Zero' with a sense of acute unease, I am
grateful for an opportunity to comment at length.

Unease, because the section headed 'Research into Astrology', with its enlarged version on
the website, can only leave the ordinary interested inquirer with a completely misleading
impression. They will reason to themselves, here are scientists who have conducted an
impartial investigation and have come up with a big zero for the year zero. The best they
can say is that astrology might be a prop for those unfortunates in need of it.

That is not the astrology I know. After over half a century of absorption in this subject,
including some original investigations, I have arrived at the opposite conclusion from these
other researchers, whose efforts were bound to fail simply because they were proceeding in
the wrong direction, and with a set of false premises. Later I shall indicate how that came
about.

Given contemporary mindsets, it must be virtually impossible for anyone to be able to

investigate astrology impartially. One scientist who did is Kary Mullis, who in 1993 won the
Nobel Prize and the Japan Prize for his work in chemistry. In his hilarious Dancing Naked in
the Mind Field he recounts how his curiosity about astrology was kindled after three people
on different occasions told him he must be a Capricorn. He set out to draw up horoscopes
himself, from the Nautical Almanac (the hard Capricornian way) and found that astrology
worked. Brave of him to admit it, considering career progression and the vagaries of peer
reviewed funding, but Mullis is nothing if not an individualist.

Rather than investigate the subject in that same hands-on way, most thinking people
continue to scoff at astrology, which is the intellectual equivalent of socially challenged
armpits. This is partly the fault of the astrologers, who are not producing the evidence
because today their science has become too psychological in its orientation, and client
driven, which often means pandering to the self-absorbed. Unfortunately the schools of
astrology do not discourage this approach.

Nor do astrologers seem to have the time to reply to attacks, an omission with far-reaching
consequences because the essence of this science of the macrocosm points to a different
kind of reality from the one that materialist science would impose on us, and the more
voices raised in protest the better. Myself, I do have a little time, and have read and reread
the 'researchers' presentation, which seems mostly to be attributed to Geoffrey Dean.

I think Garry Phillipson did not quite realise what he was letting himself in for when he
opened the door to the Dean circus. He envisaged his book as a record of what astrologers
do, in their own words, a sharing of experiences, expressed informally. Certainly
contributors like myself, joining in a dialogue, did not imagine they were involved in a
defence of their beliefs. Had they done so, they might have been more circumspect. It is
very sad that Ivan Kelly and Geoffrey Dean should have seen fit, subsequently, to hold
statements by these astrologers up to ridicule, as evidence of how astrology relies on
nothing more substantial than testimonials. If it's admissible for them to comment
retrospectively, then so can I.

(Their remarks appear as 'additional comments' to their polemic 'Are Scientists Undercover
Astrologers?' to be found on Smit's website.)

By Their Methods Shall Ye Know Them

Working through their Year Zero contribution, paragraph by paragraph, line by line, I had
an eerie feeling. I had expected it to consist of debating points, items of concrete evidence,
to which a response could be made, one by one. I approached it with the pleasurable
anticipation of a veteran journalist who appreciates a workmanlike argument. Instead I felt
the same fascination I have experienced when watching a clever conjurer.

So I would urge readers to treat these two chapters rather as they would a magic show,
alert to possible misdirections, a striving for effect, the smoke-and-mirrors. Perhaps you will
not have gone far before you wonder why there is so much harping on the virtues of clear
thinking, and of scientific caution. Not to forget the pious 'astrology is dear to us, but dearer
still is truth (126)'. You might recall Emerson's 'The louder he talked of his honour, the
faster we counted our spoons.' Then you will see, if you are familiar with the classical
reasoning fallacies, that quite a few old friends line up for their bow at the footlights.

Very discerning readers might even detect that I have veered between taking these
chapters seriously, and regarding them as a straight-faced spoof, sprinkled with a few hard
observations to create verisimilitude. In which event it is a case of 'Do you see what I see?'

Geoffrey Dean enjoys playing little games with the gullible. Most readers will perhaps not be
aware that down the years the astrology bashers have frequently resorted to outright
deception, gleefully sending out bogus horoscopes, and so forth, whereby they have not
been testing astrology per se, so much as the credibility threshold of astrologers and those
who believe in them.

Personally I have never understood why it is necessary to resort to deception, when there
are more straightforward avenues to explore. We all know there are gullible people out
there. They are found everywhere and nobody doubts it, so why this repetitive urge to
confirm that gullibility is still with us on planet Earth? The reason is the fallacy of guilt by
association, which means that if gullible people can be shown to believe in something like
astrology, it must be rubbish. The fact that intelligent people might believe it as well is
considered irrelevant. As Dean has put it, they are seeing faces in the clouds.

Dean cheerfully admits to deviousness when he describes a test he carried out with
volunteers, using what he calls 'reversed charts' (p.125-6). On the face of it, you might
think his volunteers were stupid enough to accept descriptions of themselves which were
the opposite of the truth. He reported this experiment at length in The Skeptical Inquirer
(Spring 1987) where he says 'The subjects were led to believe that the chart interpretations
were authentic.'

There is a peculiar glow of pleasure when the deceivers end up by deceiving themselves,
and what should be a roll of drums is actually the sound of falling into the orchestra pit. This
happened to Dean, without his realising it, in this same 'reversed charts' experiment. His
methodology contained two flaws, each fatal in itself, and if you can be patient with this
writer (who, still in short trousers, built a contraption for sawing ladies in half) he will lead
you through the stages.

In essence Dean collected 22 subjects and fired various personality traits at them, to see
which would be accepted. Half were given traits genuinely reflecting their own charts, the
rest other traits. It does not actually matter where these foreign traits came from, although
Dean thought it did, and had arrived at them by reversing the alleged traits of some of the
planetary aspects.

Because acceptance by the subjects was high, Dean hypothesised that they must be
searching deep inside themselves in order to lay claim to the traits described. He then
makes this unguarded comment: 'Given the variability of human nature (we have all been
everything at some time or another) the search could hardly fail.'
We have all been everything at some time or another. Those psychologists who object to
trait theories of personality point out that behaviour is largely situation dependent, which
does indeed mean that in different situations we may display different traits, possibly
contradictory, and can even be all things to all men.

In other words, no matter what traits are suggested they could be acknowledged as true,
because to some degree or other they are included in our common human nature. Judging
astrology in its own terms (something seldom done), we embody every planet and every
sign, so you can honestly lay claim to Venus traits, Mars traits, Neptune traits, and so on. At
least you can with a little good will. Some people will have more good will than others,
which leads to the question of how Dean chose his subjects, a factor of critical importance in
psychological tests.

They were recruited through an occult bookstore and ads in an occult magazine, and so
represented what Dean might call the 'gullible' end of the spectrum. (Michel Gauquelin, of
the ‘Mars Effect’ fame, was a pioneer in preselecting people for gullibility, and then solemnly
testing them for it.) Moreover, Dean's chosen subjects were interested in astrology, and this
enabled Dean to propose a possible explanation for the high scores, namely 'cognitive
dissonance', which he says means they wanted to avoid the painful prospect of having their
beliefs shattered. A more sceptical view is that these accommodating people, mostly
female, were eager to be agreeable to that nice Dr Dean, who spent one or two hours with
each of them, presumably without charge.

The sceptics keep setting traps of this sort. By their methods shall ye know them, and
anybody confessing to sleight of hand must not be offended if others at the poker table
henceforth watch their every move.

In the same article Dean boasts: 'I myself have given astrologers a chart that was
supposedly mine, but was actually that of somebody quite different from me, and their
interpretation always fitted me perfectly.' When I first read this I wondered, what goes on in
the head, what expression do you wear, as you methodically dupe colleagues and perhaps
friends?

To astrologers, reliable data is the life-blood. Among their colleagues they are usually open
about their own data, but if you decline to give out your details, for reasons of privacy,
everybody understands. Dean’s colleagues were certainly puzzled when they discovered
data in circulation for Dean, alleged to have been given to Mark Pottenger by himself (a
chart which, incidentally, took ten years off his age and gave him Australian citizenship).
The astrologers tried to establish the facts, by a route I cannot disclose, and obtained a
certified copy of what appears to be his birth certificate. This would show that Dean was
born on…

[Note from GP – when I asked each of the interviewees for Year Zero, including Geoffrey
Dean, for their birth data I undertook not to publish it if they did not wish me to. Geoffrey’s
choice was to withhold his data, and I therefore feel honour-bound to not publish it here.]

It often happens that those impressed with their own cleverness will go right to the edge, as
if daring stupid people to spot how they are being fooled. Dean is not one of these, of
course, but I must counsel him that it is so easy to give a wrong impression. It was perhaps
unwise to include a professional illusionist in the roll of honour, along with his website.
Readers may have been impressed to hear that the Amazing Randi has a standing offer of a
million dollars to anyone who can demonstrate paranormal powers, astrology included.
Whatever are the astrologers waiting for! Perhaps astrologers realise that money prizes
(p.153) may not be what they seem, if the challengers are to be judge and jury in their own
court.

Any reader who connected with the Randi website (perhaps most would not bother, but take
what they had been told at its face value) might now be scratching their head. To clear up
the puzzlement, Dean should explain (and this is a serious request) how an astrologer could
win this prize. There are twelve rules to the Randi challenge, a verbal fence of razor wire,
but rule four states: “Tests will be designed in such a way that no ‘judging’ procedure is
required. Results will be self-evident to any observer...”

So, only eyewitness evidence is allowed, which is fine if the astrologer can do the business
while walking on water. There is a reason for the eyewitness stipulation. Since Maskelyne,
illusionists investigating the paranormal have always had an ace up their sleeve. They will
say that if the effect can be produced by trickery, their stock in trade, then the effect must
be trickery.

Now here I must make a confession. I am an old fox, unlike the Amazing Randi, who is a
public-spirited seeker after truth. So I can offer, gratis, to the James Randi Educational
Foundation an infallible backstop should any applicant manage to negotiate the other
obstacles unscathed, and assuming they might not want to part too hurriedly with their pot
of gold. Thus I might be sent a letter along these lines: “Dear Mr Elwell, Congratulations!
You have succeeded in your demonstration! You have discovered a hitherto unrecognised
phenomenon of nature which, however, as a natural phenomenon cannot by definition be
classed as paranormal. We hope you get your Nobel Prize, but regret you do not qualify for
ours.”

This genial nonsense has been condemned as a publicity stunt even by fellow sceptics. So it
is intriguing that the Dean team should drag it into what purports to be a serious discussion.

The Sun-Sign Debate

Years ago Dean and Mather challenged me publicly to produce support for sun signs. With
its prize of £500, I recognised it as a gimmick, but knew that others might believe
otherwise, so I proposed that we should debate whether the prize was really winnable at a
conference of the Astrological Association. At the end of the debate Dean insisted on taking
a vote from the audience, and lost.

I had already thought I had detected in Dean an inclination to coax the overly trusting into
traps of his own devising, while keeping the killer facts out of sight. As usual, the terms
were tightly drawn, which means it had to be done their way, not mine. In other
circumstances this would be called stacking the deck, a manipulation with which Dean is all
too familiar (p.136), but would not stoop to himself. I was challenged to prove that people
born under Aries tend to be assertive, that Taureans tend to be practical, and so on. Dean is
addicted to single traits, which allow for tidiness. Thank you, we don't want to hear about
Arians who are assertive and practical, or Taureans who are practical and assertive.

Anyone familiar with psychological testing will realise this proposal was no walkover,
particularly because any positive results would be promptly rejected on the grounds of self-
attribution. What self-attribution means is that if Aries people are assertive, it may be
because they have read in astrology books that they are supposed to be like that.

Psychologists take this possibility very seriously, and for those who set tests for astrologers
it becomes a convenient way of dismissing positive results. In his own work, psychologist
David Nias controlled for self-attribution by testing children too young to read astrology,
and officers of the Salvation Army - a group who had been found to possess surprisingly
little sun sign knowledge.

So to accept this challenge I would have to seek out astrological 'virgins', and visualised an
expedition to the rain forests, whose natives have been deprived of Linda Goodman all
these years. (Just my luck, after a three day trek, to stumble over a very damp copy of her
book.) In whatever way it was tackled, this was a major project. The public may imagine
that astrologers have unlimited resources with which to prove their case, but that is
completely untrue. It is virtually impossible for astrologers to produce evidence of the right
academic calibre, because the mantra among scientists is that extraordinary claims require
extraordinary evidence. An assault on this Everest of excellence would come down to
money, one way or another. For one thing, most astrologers are too busy teaching or
working with clients to find the time for an exercise from which there would no financial
return, and perhaps no other sort of return either.

One of the Dean team, Ivan Kelly, has waspishly remarked that even if the money were
available, astrologers would not know what to do with it. He has opined: '... astrologers
generally have no training in how to conduct or evaluate research and therefore could not
do it even if they had the funding.' Presumably Kelly might have the funding, but not the
training, to fix his teeth and his central heating, and does what astrologers would do,
namely pay experts to do it for them.

David Nias collaborated with the late Hans Eysenck on the influential Astrology: Science or
Superstition?, a book with Dean's acknowledged fingerprints on it. In this book they report
the Dean-Mather challenge to the 'eminent and outspoken' astrologer and, on my
disinclination to take the bait, gravely commented: “The astrologer who, for years, had
been insisting that sun signs were valid was unable to furnish any evidence to support what
he believed to be true.”

I did not put pistol to head, but this verdict by two distinguished psychologists seemed
inexplicably unfair, because of all people they were familiar with the problems of validation.
Particularly I could not understand why they should downplay the complexity of the task.
They wrote: “All he had to do was to demonstrate that the signs as traditionally conceived
contain an element of truth...” That little word 'all' set the arteries pulsing. All he had to do
was push a wheelbarrow on a tightrope across Niagara, while playing Auld Lang Syne on the
bagpipes. Twenty years later, and pondering this present contribution, I wondered if they
would stand by what they had written, and contacted Nias, to see if he might have second
thoughts.

Nias admitted: “We could have worded this section better. Being practical, what we could
have said was: 'All you needed to do was to convince an already funded researcher that it
was worth testing the hypothesis about Aries, etc. Psychology students carry out projects
and many would love to do something interesting like this (and to have an outside co-
supervisor). With a library search, they would be able to find standardised tests, or at least
test items, concerned with assertiveness, etc (they are usually given funds to cover the cost
of tests, travel, etc).'”

He added: “The study would need to control for self-attribution; indeed this would be part of
the challenge.”

Not quite so simple then! Of course if they had actually taken that line in print it would have
somewhat blunted the dramatic effect. On reflection I think they were so grateful for the
unstinting (if not disinterested) help given to them by Dean, that they were reluctant to rain
on his bonfire.

Before those eager, ready-funded, psychology students descend on the Salvation Army, to
separate the assertive from the practical, they should be warned that to produce a result in
support of a discredited belief may not exactly please their mentors.

Generous, Extravert Leos

In several places the 'researchers' contribution conveys the suggestion that if astrology
works it must be easy to demonstrate, therefore the lack of evidence must speak for itself.
If Leos are generous, it must be possible to test for it, say by analysing the tips given in
restaurants (p.128). Really? Dean knows full well that even if the practicalities of this
experiment could be worked out (a doubtful prospect considering all the variables) a
positive result would be instantly discounted, on the grounds of self-attribution. In other
words, generous Leos plunge more deeply into their wallets because of some astrologer
they read somewhere.

There may be some evidence to suggest that self-attribution exists, at least in limited test
situations. But it is generally agreed that it must be tiny within the total context of genetics,
the hormonal climate in the womb, and early childhood influences. There is also the
possibility that if Leos become more generous after reading about their sign, it might be
that astrology has merely helped them to adjust their self-image in the direction of their
true personality. I suspect this alone makes the self-attribution theory impossible to test,
but it remains the last resort of the debunkers, and the team confirmed to me that for the
tipping experiment to be credible, the tippers must have no knowledge of their sun sign.

There must be easy ways to sort out those children and Salvationists whom the head waiter
is always glad to see, but I confess I would not know where to start. And there is always a
killer card to be played. Children may not read the horoscope page but mummy does, and
she influences her children. As for the Salvation Army, they might have started taking more
interest in their sun sign after they were involved in the psychological research.

We are left with the question, is this suggestion thrown out by Dean genuine or tongue-in-
the-cheek?

Again, we learn that these assiduous researchers “might test the charts of extraverts to see
if they differ from introverts (p.130).” Really? We know where the charts come from, but
how do you find your extraverts or introverts? Suppose you thought you had devised a test
to winkle out the introverts from the general population, and then compared the results
with their sun signs, or whatever, and suppose there was no correlation. Would that be a
test of astrology, another failure of this absurd pseudoscience, or might it rather be a test of
the authenticity of the yardstick you had applied?

Do extraverts/introverts truly exist as categories? In The Penguin Dictionary of Psychology

we read: “Originally the dimension was entertained as reflecting two unitary personality
types which were presumed opposites of each other. Today most theorists doubt that either
exists as a singular type ... it seems unlikely that the two poles can be validly regarded as
opposites since many persons exhibit aspects of both ...”

Indeed, Jung (who originally proposed this dimension) described Gandhi as an introvert in
his asceticism, and an extravert in his politics, so what category would Gandhi's birth chart
fall into? Nias volunteered the opinion that Laurence Olivier was an introvert in his personal
life, which he had an opportunity to observe, but an extravert in his acting. Instead of trying
to apply some external yardstick, why not evaluate the astrological in its own terms,
something hardly ever done. We can be extravert where Mars and Jupiter are placed in our
chart, and introvert where Saturn and Neptune are placed. Better yet, why not just say we
can be Martian where our Mars is found, Neptunian where our Neptune is found, and leave
it at that?

Some psychologists do maintain that the dimension shows up in surveys of large groups,
but this raises questions concerning the circular nature of the testing procedures, which it
would be tedious to discuss here. Sufficient is it to indicate that there are enough reasons to
refute any suggestion that such tests are easy. Either the sceptics are aware of the
difficulties or they are not. If they are not, they should be. If they are, it is reprehensible to
suggest that here might be a legitimate test of astrology.

Every Picture Tells a Story

Dean has a bloodhound's nose for artifacts. He tells us that the supposed astrological effects
disappeared when the artifacts were controlled (p.145). Well, equally, objections to
astrology are apt to disappear when you get rid of the artifacts. Or perhaps, rather than
artifact, I mean artifice.
Astrologers have a wide range of factors on which they can call, some of them discretional.
Not an exactly breathtaking statement, and one to which you can forgivably respond with
'so what?'. But Dean will not let you get off so lightly. As everybody in the black arts of
persuasion knows, one picture is worth a thousand words. So he draws a picture, and many
a heart must have sunk at the image of the impossibly crowded 'superchart' (p.162).

The first thing to point out is that the majority of astrologers never use some of the factors
which Dean has jammed into the circle. Secondly, the illusion of unfathomable density
arises from the simple stratagem of compressing the figure into the smallest compass
compatible with legibility. It would seem less populated if it were drawn on a football pitch,
or indeed, as would be appropriate in this case, on a sheet of paper the size of the solar
system.

Dean's superchart first appeared in Recent Advances and its reproduction here must
indicate how highly he regards its message. It will helpfully serve as a continuing icon for
the type of criticism he represents, with its desire to impose a spurious simplicity on
essentially complex phenomena. In any other science such a demand would be instantly
recognised as absurd. One could draw a page-size human outline, and decorate it with all
the anatomical names, right down to the smallest details, plus the chemical equations for all
the processes taking place in the body, and so on. The result would be total confusion, and
on that account presumably a salutary deterrent to any book-browser who might have
considered taking a misguided interest in how the body works. Yet anatomy survives,
physiology survives, medicine survives!

Coming closer to home, the sky is increasingly crammed with celestial objects, but
astronomers are not despairing.

So we find ourselves here mired in the fallacy of the double standard, a favourite recourse
of the debunkers. Incredibly, Dean portrays astrologers as being in a uniquely impossible
situation, given the limitations of the brain to process information (p.161). What can one
say, except that if workers in other fields felt they were faced with an irreducible
complexity, there would be nothing for it but to go home and suck their thumb. Any student
of the horoscope knows there are ways to work round it methodically, so if you are
interested in marriage indications, perhaps, you look at one set of factors, or in the case of
the career another set of factors, and so on. And there are computer programs to help.

The disturbing element is that Dean himself took a course in astrology, that he himself read
charts professionally, and that he himself taught the subject. How come, if the difficulties of
handling the chart's bits and pieces are insuperable?

Dean having detailed the awesome consequences for astrologers of the limitations of their
short-term memory (a handicap which seems to have escaped them, unless like myself they
are in the springtime of senility), Garry Phillipson, as interlocutor, rightly suggests that the
situation could not be unique to astrology. I dare say he was inviting a comparison with
other fields where the mobilisation of information is crucial. But at this point Dean performs
a deft non sequitur. He breaks the thread of the argument, switching it away from facts,
and science, in the direction of aesthetic judgment, and the arts. Perhaps he might be
induced to return to his theme and explain how other sciences manage to cope with the
information overload, and why astrology is different.

Another interesting diagram (p.129) purports to clarify the subjective and objective strands
in astrology, which are put on two separate axes as if they are in collision, although
Phillipson tactfully suggests that many astrologers would view astrology as connecting both
(p.128).

As the eye enters this diagram it encounters Santa Claus (i.e. a false belief fit only for
children), and phrenology (i.e. a discredited belief), and therefore whatever integrity might
attach to the subjective is immediately compromised. Then there comes a little guilt by
association, whereby religion and the spiritual are aligned with the subjective (i.e. Santa
and bumps).

Dean goes on to say there is one kind of astrology which does not need to be true, and
another kind which needs to be true. The problem for him lies in that fuzzy word 'true'. By
bringing in the concepts of subjective/objective Dean seems to rule out the possibility that
the subjective might also be true, and conversely that the objective might be untrue, as for
example when measurements are wrong, or the wrong yardstick is used.

If you plough through various reference works you find different definitions of objective and
subjective, depending on whether it is philosophy, logic, or the everyday idiom. I like the
definitions given by Ray Kurzweil, said to be the world's leading authority on artificial
intelligence. Objective is the experience of an entity as observed by another entity, or
measuring apparatus; while subjective is the experience of an entity as experienced by the
entity.

Kurzweil points out that light measured at a wavelength of 0.000075 centimetres is

experienced as red, but change the wavelength to 0.000035 centimetres and the experience
is called violet. For him subjective has no pejorative associations, and the experience of
diving into a lake, erotic feelings, listening to music, are genuine if incommunicable realities.

Is the red of the traffic light unreal, because subjective? Is the pain of toothache less real
than the decayed tooth? Considering the central place of the subjective in our life, it would
be strange if astrology were not intimately bound up with it. But for Dean the subjective
element in astrology comes down to clients accepting statements regardless of whether
they are 'correct', or of it giving a sense of purpose and meaning regardless of the truth. He
devalues the currency.

On the other hand for him objective astrology is merely about the problems of validation,
the nuts and bolts, the techniques, the tests, and so on. All proper considerations, of
course, but overlooking the point that important to astrology is its claim to deal with the
objective world, with concrete events.

Why should Dean introduce the objective/subjective dimension into what is really a
discussion about truth and untruth? As a philosophical dictionary puts it: “...because
objective truth is supposed to carry undeniable persuasive force, exaggerated claims of
objectivity have often been used as tools of intellectual and social oppression.”

The Hermeneutic Circle

It would perhaps be doing Dean a great injustice to picture him, or his colleagues,
constantly scheming to pull the mat out from under the astrologers, using every trick in the
book. Setting aside his few admitted lapses, a process is at work within both sceptics and
believers whereby they tend to notice those facts and arguments which suit their case, and
pass over inconvenient facts and arguments.

This has been called the hermeneutic circle, a self-reinforcing process in which we are all to
some extent trapped. Alfred Adler called it 'teleological apperception', meaning that when
we have an end in view, a commitment to some purpose, we unconsciously select what
suits that purpose. Truth and objectivity become a secondary consideration, and we may
unwittingly mislead others, as well as ourselves.

It follows that if that purpose is strong enough, perhaps bordering on the fanatical,
everything that might impede it is likely to be pushed unceremoniously aside, while at the
same time we are in danger of inflating the significance of 'friendly' data.

In this context it seems pertinent to examine the credentials of the Year Zero researchers
(p.125). Three of the five started out as astrologers, but turned their backs on it when it
failed to measure up to the tests they devised. It should be pointed out that on this
admission they had already shown themselves capable of spectacular misjudgment, bearing
in mind that when they embraced astrology scientific hostility was just as fierce as it is
today. Moreover, the busy astrological activity that followed must have been a cascade of
incidental errors and self-deceptions.

In the annals of apostasy it is not uncommon to find that when suitors discover their
beloved is a whore, the result is a particularly rabid misogyny. Gauquelin was another of the
disaffected. Those who have seen the light marvel that the other poor dupes persist in their
illusions, and have a mission to save them.

Since they can hardly afford to be wrong twice, they savage any vestige of evidence that
might suggest they were mistaken in the first place, and here a pertinent example is Dean's
wildly improbable assertion that any positive Gauquelin results must have been caused by
parents fiddling an auspicious time of birth for their offspring (p.144). One of his colleagues,
Suitbert Ertel, has already cast doubt on Dean's elaborate thesis, to put it mildly. But my
curiosity is why anyone should think it necessary to snatch the last bit of credibility from
Gauquelin, who was no friend of astrology, and whose work has already become so muddied
as to be no longer of use either to astrologers or their detractors. As Richard Dawkins
remarked, when shown the Gauquelin data, more robust statistics would be required before
he could believe in planetary influences. So why the overkill?

I have every sympathy for the crisis of credibility in which these members of the Dean team
found themselves, because I have been there myself. There came a point in my own life,
measured more in years than months, where astrology was not doing what I expected it to
do. These are the worst of times: you feel betrayed, plunge into depression, discover the
virtues of the old malt.

The main difference between me and the deserting trio must have been one of
temperament. Some people feel more secure in their judgment than others, and for my part
I was troubled by the suspicion that the defect might be mine, rather than belong to
astrology. I began to ask myself, if the heavens are not saying what I think they should be
saying, what are they saying? If they are not answering my questions, maybe they have the
answers to questions I do not yet have the wit to ask? When the charts became opaque, I
rubbed my eyes and looked again. If you are receptive in this way, astrology will continually
astonish you. Our reality is not all it seems.

But for the Dean trio this kind of fundamental reappraisal seemed not to be an option, and
their 'beautiful world of astrology began to collapse.' Their uncompromising loyalty was to
science (AD 2000). As an early convert to General Semantics, I parenthesise the date,
because if history is anything to go by, science AD 2500 will be very, very different. Such
changes as are on the horizon might have been accelerated by these researchers, given
their knowledge both of science and astrology, and they might yet regret that their
contribution was in the field of demolition rather than construction.

Did the tests they imposed on their beloved astrology really stand up to scrutiny, or was
their defection premature? Historically, it would be interesting to know where the break
point came. I have examined all the so-called objective tests, like those in Recent
Advances, and in my judgment they are all paper tigers, a conclusion I am prepared to
defend if called upon. These are important questions for all those who believe, or might be
prepared to believe, in this vital subject, and who in addition value integrity of intellect.

What has been said above may explain both the feebleness of the arguments marshalled by
the researchers in Year Zero, and the satisfaction with which they are put forward.

For example: “When Smit tested the main predictive techniques on people who had died an
accidental death (nothing ambiguous here), the claims in astrology books could not be
confirmed” (p.126).
Unfortunately Smit's studies have never been published, nor have his data, so checking this
claim is impossible. There is no reason to doubt its veracity, except to point out that if the
boot was on the other foot Dean would dismiss this piece of uncorroborated evidence
without apology. Smit did lecture on his results to Australian groups, but his thesis did not
find ready acceptance.

Smit was commendably candid when I asked for details. From the technical standpoint, the
problem was that he was relying mostly on a single chart factor, the ascendant, which
depends on the accuracy of the hour and minute of birth. He insists that he took great care
over accuracy, and indeed his conscientiousness here is evident. However there is an ever-
present problem involving the true time of birth, cosmically speaking. The Gauquelin results
would be compatible with a time earlier than the traditional 'first cry', the vagitus, when the
appropriate planets would be on the meridian and horizon, rather than some degrees past.
(When I suggested this possibility to Gauquelin he became agitated.)

Smit's conclusions conflict with those of Charles Carter, in his day the doyen of British
astrologers, who wrote an entire book on the astrology of accidents. It contains the primary
data so that others can investigate for themselves. Carter believed his findings supported
astrology, and one must wonder why Smit's opinion should be given precedence. The
answer, of course, is that Smit was expressing the anti-astrology view.

Again: 'When Mather used the data for 900 major earthquakes to test the claim that they
tended to occur when Uranus was on the MC or IC, the claim could not be confirmed (95
earthquakes fitted but so did 91 out of the 900 non-earthquakes) (p.125)'. Thrown out
casually like this, as if there were no room for dissent, such a statement may sound
crushing, but like much else in this dissertation it will not bear scrutiny.

The claim being tested, which the ordinary reader might suppose to be a vital plank of
astrology's platform, did not in fact emanate from astrology at all, but from a physicist, and
was published in the respected scientific journal Nature. Long before the discovery of
Uranus astrologers and other observers of nature had their own ideas about the cosmic
correspondences of earthquakes and similar phenomena. Thus we find Aristotle recording
that 'it sometimes happens that there is an earthquake about the eclipses of the moon.' A
notable modern astrologer, A J Pearce, wrote a chapter on 'Earthquakes and Volcanic
Eruptions' but makes only passing references to Uranus.

The way it is described (hands up those readers who know about this emsee and eyesee
stuff) could have been more illuminating. The planets are carried around the sky once a
day, by earth rotation, and like the sun they reach a 'noon' and 'midnight' point. Therefore
they all pass over the local meridian twice a day, including Uranus, which means that both
our breakfast and supper might be interrupted by subterranean rumbling.

(Did readers wonder about 'non-earthquakes' and what it might be like to experience one?
Uranus was making its upper meridian passage when the bomb dropped on Hiroshima, an
obvious example of a non-earthquake.)

'Critical Thinking Skills'

Dean repeatedly urges astrologers to acquire critical thinking skills. “They need to be aware
of the errors of reasoning to which they seem so abundantly prone” (p.158). “Might
astrology be just a figment of our poor reasoning skills?” (p.134). But he can offer light to
those in darkness: “Fortunately, anyone can have an informed critical mind” (p.136).

We are told that what is basically wrong with those who think differently from our experts
could be corrected by “an improvement in their general education” (p.158).

On a bad day, I would describe that as insulting, patronising and condescending. It seems
to this observer of the Dean scene that he may be reaching a point in his crusade which
other professional sceptics have already reached. They see no reason to engage in dialogue
any more, because they just want to shout 'You're all idiots, go away!'

Dean may no longer care what astrologers think and feel, but is persevering because of the
'floating voters', inquirers who might well be drawn to Year Zero. There is no better
deterrent than to warn these innocents that they are in danger of getting involved with a
half-educated bunch, strangers to reason, every one.

We here enter not so much the land of spin, as smear. You will understand what is
happening if you keep in mind that Dean is not talking to astrologers, but to possible
converts.

So here comes the empty posturing. Where, he cries, do astrological texts mention critical
thinking? After all, books on psychology deal with it, and psychology is close to astrology
(p.159). Well, one might pardonably expect books on thinking to deal with thinking. But is it
also indispensable for books on astronomy, another close cousin of astrology? Science
books seem to assume that readers have brought along their thinking skills, ready honed.
Books of history and biography, subjects also interwoven with the astrological, do not begin
with a crash course on critical thinking either.

Mysteriously, astrology emerges as the lone exception. How outrageous that “... none of the
hundreds of introductory astrology texts examined by us over the years give any hint that
critical thinking even exists, even though it could hardly be more relevant to their implied
invitation to test astrology for yourself” (p.159).

What on earth is going on here? Why all this indignant snorting? Are these five academics
really asserting that every beginners' book, on whatever subject, is expected to be prefaced
by a dose of Dean's didactics? No, they're not. All is not quite what it seems. This is a coded
message, the equivalent of a government health warning. Dean would dearly love to put a
sticker on every book on astrology, saying that if you intend to read this rubbish you need
your head examined. Since that might be a little too pugnacious, the next best resort is to
imply that if you are opening any astrology book your reasoning faculty is self-evidently in
need of training, but you'll be lucky to find the instructions enclosed.

All this is being retailed to achieve an effect, and the hoped-for effect is that readers will
feel that astrology is fundamentally flawed because its practitioners are incapable of
elementary logic. The poor dears have never learnt to think straight, you see, so be careful,
it might be contagious.

Needless to say, anyone rash enough to be patronising about their superiority in this
department runs the risk of having their own skills put under the microscope. I should be
reluctant to recommend Dean's arguments as models of critical thinking, and it is important
to ask why this stern advocate departs so readily from the canons of clarity. And then the
thought intrudes again - maybe it is not so much reasoned argument as conjurers' patter?

In his book The Case for Astrology John Anthony West dubs Dean 'a master of the
inappropriate analogy'. He quotes the master thus: 'Astrologers argue that signs and
aspects cannot be studied in isolation (which is like arguing that overeating won't make you
fat), and that what matters is the birth chart as a whole.'

That was in 1988, but there are no signs of repentance, and the latest exposition contains
other strange similes: “... like mechanics who claim that intuition allows successful repairs
to cars despite having no workshop manuals” (p.137); “... like claiming that rhubarb
explains why airplanes fly” (p.160); “... like asking for a theory to explain flying elephants”
(p.160); “... like having a clock that might or might not be working, and trying to tell the
time from just a few of its countless cogwheels” (p.163).
Or, choicely: “People do not travel to Heathrow Airport on the off-chance that somebody will
suddenly discover aeroplanes” (p.148).

These Deanisms might seem innocuous, but students of critical thinking will recognise the
classic fallacy of the red herring. By dropping some pathetically obvious point into the
discussion (well, of course eating makes you fat!) the reader is nudged towards accepting
the rest.

Now Dean is knowledgeable on the various effects that might produce false conclusions, and
indeed lists no less than 15 of them (p.136). And a fascinating lot they are, as he himself
enthuses. He goes on: “For example, the Dr Fox effect involves blinding you with style and
jargon rather than content (we just did exactly that)”. There's nothing like telling the
customers when they are being led by the nose! The candour disarms them for what's next.

When it comes to red herrings, therefore, the least agreeable verdict would be that he
knows what he is doing. Is it plausible that someone who is fascinated by such persuasion
ploys, and has made a collection of them, should not also be a connoisseur of the dozens of
reasoning fallacies that have been identified, starting in classical times? Would this not be
the inescapable obverse of correct thinking?

Lists of fallacies can be found online. One, explaining 35 such fallacies, begins: “If you have
been exposed to how magicians work you may be familiar with sleight, feint, misdirection or
deception.”

Is the following a serious point, or just muddled, or is it merely patter? Dean says of his
superchart that if interpreting it for a client, and allowing 20 words per item, 'the result
would be larger than the London or New York telephone directory (all you need is one client
and you have enough work for the rest of your life, forecasts extra).'

Of course the astrologer, without any help, might divine that his client may not wish to read
the London telephone directory, and settle for something less taxing. But here Dean is
trying to put astrologers in the most grotesquely caricatured situation he can find. I would
seriously like the researchers to advise me whether this is the fallacy of the straw man, or a
reductio ad absurdum, or a mixture of both.

I lost patience with another section, where the researchers make fun of Astrology World
(p.151). If you compose a similar critique of Science World you will broadly see what I
mean. If science is so good, why are there wars, famine, crime, illness, accidents, and so
forth? To paraphrase: 'Bearing in mind that science has had two thousand years to get it
right, can we conclude that it really does deliver?'

This is our old friend the double standard. Why, we even get the argumentum ad
misericordiam, or the appeal to pity. We are invited to condole with the unfortunate Smit,
who paid a high price for his conversion to the truth (p.126), and to commiserate over the
wasted 25 years of fruitless research, which at least produced some useful negative
findings, comparable with 'eating lettuce does not send you mad' (p.153).

Before anybody passes round the collection plate, let us ponder whether those years of
research were not after all a great success. Dean affects disappointment that no positive
results were forthcoming, but all the evidence suggests the contrary. They were not trying
to prove astrology, but disprove it, and their efforts were directed to that end.
Understandably, if you have publicly turned your back on astrology, if you have announced
that “astrology can be largely explained by intuition, gullibility and universal validity” (Dean,
Recent Advances 1977, p 15) you are unlikely to be looking for the positive results which
would undermine your own new-found position. As Aristotle might have said (p.126), who
do you think you're kidding.

Dean Sights a White Crow

William James said that finding a single white crow would destroy the law that all crows are
black, and Dean accordingly asks where is astrology's white crow (p.154). Which invites
speculation about what he would do if he saw one. In fact one bobs up in his book Recent
Advances, where he demonstrates his ornithological sensitivities. He blasts it with both
barrels.

Surveying the results of blind trials associated with Vernon Clark and others (they are
mentioned in Year Zero) he reports that the results favour astrology, with a high level of
significance. Then comes the first cartridge. Dean unblushingly shifts the ground from
significance to utility, saying that the extreme significance of 64% against the expected
50% was only 'marginally useful', and adds (curiously for one who has just committed the
error) that it is important not to confuse significance with utility. Nor indeed utility with
significance.

In other words, whether the creature was black or white, here was nothing to crow about.
Yet there must be many situations where a margin of 14% over the odds would be
considered very useful indeed, for instance in investing or bookmaking.

What percentages of this order might represent in terms of astrological performance is hard
to estimate. What is certain is that the trials may not have been a fair test of astrology
(without the participants themselves realising it) and that criteria better suited to its subject
matter could have produced more striking results. One marvels at the confidence with which
the astrologers set about these tests, recalling the enthusiasm for Christmas imputed to
another feathered friend. It is no surprise how few volunteer for such experiments, because
the more knowing shy away from having to jump through hoops which might have been
chosen arbitrarily. Imposing criteria on the astrological may be no more than a test of the
criteria.

One test involved matching ten birth charts with ten occupations and other scraps of
information. In another, astrologers were given ten pairs of charts and invited to say which
of the pair fitted the case history. An extraordinary limitation should be noted, in that the
biographical data provided for the subjects in both these tests was deliberately brief, as if
this conferred some extra virtue on the exercise. But why create that handicap? It would be
interesting to discover whether the astrologers would have reached a better score if they
were furnished with as much information about the subjects as possible, allowing them to
pick out what they deemed to be diagnostic. Often it is the details, or rather the co-
occurrence of linked details, which give the clue.

Nor is there any reason why astrologers taking part in such exercises should not also be
provided with the results of standard psychological tests, of which some might be more
suitable to astrology's subject matter than others. Projective tests, as when the subject is
asked to describe what is happening in an ambiguous picture, would perhaps enable the
astrologer to glimpse the world through the subject's eyes, and thus identify the appropriate
birth chart. Experiments need to be made along these lines, pilot studies conducted, to
determine the optimum conditions under which the astrological can reveal itself.

The third Vernon Clark type test, discussed by Dean in the same place, proved negative. It
involved trying to separate the charts of highly gifted children from children who were
severely retarded. Behind such tests lies an unfounded assumption of considerable
proportions, namely that the planets can be blamed for everything, from mental retardation
to suicide. The existence of a correlation between the cosmic and the terrestrial does not
imply that it is absolute. There is no reason to suppose that the astrological has the playing
field all to itself: there are doubtless other factors capable of modifying or frustrating it, or
introducing new elements altogether.

This perspective is inadvertently supported by Dean when he considers under what

conditions astrology, as distinct from non-astrological influences, could be judged to 'work'
(p.132). He says that before effects can be held to be astrological, alternative explanations
must be ruled out. The inescapable corollary, which he does not mention, is that when
astrology seems to fail, then non-astrological influences can legitimately be ruled in.

An appropriate conceptual model might be the existence of a matrix which constantly works
to shape what is happening within it. It seeks to impose itself where it can, and to the
degree it can, but sometimes the material is resistant, insufficient or imperfect. Or the
cosmos could be said to seek vehicles of expression, but cannot be held responsible for the
defects of the vehicle. If the black keys are missing from the piano, you can't blame Mozart
for the performance.

The correlation between the cosmic and the terrestrial is not absolute, and the reason is
easy to see. To file away your chart with your name on it may be convenient, but it perhaps
obscures the fact that this chart does not belong to you. On the contrary, you belong to it.
That is to say, it represents a time and place where a wide range of entities were coming
into being, and many different activities were happening. Humans were being born, yes, but
also alley cats and dung beetles. And not only living things, but purely physical entities,
along with institutions, ideas, and even questions -- as in the horary concept.

From this it is clear that the language of the cosmos is not yet cast in terms of human
nature, but something else, plastic enough to be readily adapted to alley cat nature, dung
beetle nature, horary nature, and so forth. Equally it must be able to adapt itself both to
gifted and retarded humans, without losing its essence. A challenge facing astrology is to
understand this language in its own terms, before it has been distorted by expression
through any particular vehicle.

Dean's second barrel aimed at the Vernon Clark results invoked a classical fallacy from the
‘how not to’ section of the Critical Thinking Skills manual. This is known as the false
dilemma, or fallacy of false alternatives. It is the use of the word 'or' that always sounds the
alarm, because there may be other possibilities than the two alternatives on offer. The
question Dean asks is, when somebody gets the answers right in such tests, is it (a)
astrology, or (b) intuition? That seems to rule out astrology plus intuition.

Dean states: “Thus in Clark's double-blind trial, Lee deliberately applied intuition and after
spending only 2 minutes on each chart got 7 out of 10 right. In Astrology Now's test the two
highest scoring astrologers (one a student, the other a professional) had studied astrology
for only two years and both indicated that intuition played a part in their judgement.”

Dean concludes: “...it is clear that the significant blind trials have not demonstrated that
astrology works but only that astrologers work. Hence to adequately test astrology the
participation of the astrologer must be eliminated.”

Keen students of critical thinking may wonder whether Dean has not compounded a
classical fallacy with a classical semantic trap, namely that the same word may mean
different things to different people. Did Dean on the one hand, and the participants on the
other hand, understand the same thing by 'intuition'? Early in Recent Advances Dean says
that for convenience 'intuition' implies ESP and psychic ability, and he defines intuition as
'knowing' other than through the senses. In effect he was asking if they had used either
astrology or clairvoyance. But whatever he may or may not find convenient, his definition
was idiosyncratic. Webster's definition reflects the general view, namely that intuition is the
“immediate apprehension of a truth, or supposed truth, in the absence of conscious rational
processes.”

The astrologer (and for that matter the physician, entrepreneur, or poker player) may get a
'feel' for a new problem on the basis of experience, or a recognition of analogous situations,
but it is hardly extrasensory.

If Lee was using pure clairvoyance he could have scored seven out of ten by being given
just the bare birth data, minus the charts. On the other hand, if it was the erected charts,
perused however casually, that made the difference, then it was astrology that made the
difference. Perhaps he should have been invited to say why he reached his conclusions,
because if he was following textbook precepts, those conclusions would have to be given
higher status than mere guesswork.

To everybody's relief, Dean tells us that thanks to intuition we don't need 'formal
arguments' to decide between strawberry and vanilla ice cream (p.137). We don't need
intuition either, because we may have hated vanilla ever since it made us sick. But then he
adds a telling comment, namely that their convenience in daily life “does not alter the fact
that intuitions are unreliable.” But intuitions cannot be intrinsically unreliable if they served
Lee well when scanning his charts. They may be unreliable, certainly, but no more wildly so
than the conclusions based on what we are pleased to call logic. He argues that intuition is
unreliable because it is not self-verifying, but then neither is reason self-verifying, unless it
becomes dangerously locked into a manic circle where A proves B, B proves C, and C proves
A.

Dean seems unable to distinguish between intuition and healthy human judgment, which is
what juries use in deciding where the balance of the evidence lies, or athletes in estimating
distance and timing. Judgment has more force than a mere hunch, and it is superior to
reason, since it can discriminate between differently reasoned arguments, such as those
presented by the prosecution and defence. Judgment may be primarily what astrologers use
in weighing various factors against others, and in this they are no different from experts in
other fields. Give me mature judgment, developed by experience of the world, and you can
keep your 'critical thinking skills'. It can be wrong, and often is, but it's the best hope we
have.

Why the impasse?

Readers who have not been privileged over the years to witness the cuts, thrusts, and
parries between astrologers and their critics may well wonder why the truth is not been
established by now, one way or the other. It is a mess, and the responsibility for it is
divided pretty equally between both camps. The main obstacle is the existence of different
agendas, of vested interests, but there is no difficulty in explaining to impartial outsiders
why the truth has been so elusive.

The handle whereby you take hold of a problem determines the outcome. The door you go
in by is the same door you come out. Remember the travellers in Wales who stopped in a
village to ask one of the locals the way to Llanyblodwel (or was it Trefeglwy)? He pulled
deeply on his pipe. 'I wouldn't start from here.' Astrologers tend to favour one point of
departure, the sceptics another. Neither is intrinsically right or wrong, but each will
inevitably arrive at a different conclusion.

There are two optional imperatives any inquiry can follow - one is isolate, the other connect.
It is all a question of the relationship between parts and wholes. Every phenomenon,
whatever you can think of, is simultaneously both a part and a whole. Everything is included
in something more comprehensive, in a context. And meaning is always a matter of context.
When Lady Macbeth washes her hands, it's not like when you and I wash our hands. When
Othello visits the wife he imagines to be unfaithful, and snuffs out the light, it's not because
he is trying to save candles.

Years ago Dean wrote that a watch could only be understood by taking it to pieces, and in
this approach he echoed a recurring theme in many scientific endeavours, namely that in
productive research parts must be isolated for study. On the other hand, if you want to
understand the function of a cog, rather than its merely physical attributes, you have to put
it back in the watch, and see how it relates to the rest of the mechanism. The cog needs the
context of the watch, the watch needs the context of timekeeping, and timekeeping needs
the context of the solar system.
It happens that nowadays physics is leaning very much towards the 'connect' mode, and
this tendency may eventually work through to astrology, but it will become a different
astrology. The universe is increasingly viewed by scientists as a totally interrelated and
interacting whole, a development which is entirely congenial to the data of astrology.

'Where is the effect, show me the effect' chants Dean. He demands an isolated part, which
bereft of its connections may be meaningless, like a kidney left forlornly on the mortuary
slab. Some things are too big to see, which may explain why Dean sees astrology nowhere,
but somebody like myself sees it everywhere. The reason is that for me the pieces of the
jigsaw have no relevance until they are put into the jigsaw - and it's a big jigsaw!

Dean professes not to hold with this new-fangled thinking: “Even if science did turn out to
be based on say interconnectedness, astrologers have not explained how this would support
the idea that the heavens reflect what happens on Earth, let alone such ideas as Leos being
generous. It is like saying astrology involves books, cooking involves books, therefore
cooking makes astrology more plausible” (p.159).

Musing on this peculiar paragraph, I was finally overcome with a sense of the futility of any
attempt to make any kind of rational response. For me it was the final straw, where I felt I
could not take this paragon of clear thinking seriously any more ... but imagined him just
smiling quietly.

[End]

© Dennis Elwell, 2001