Mar 14, 2015

Cult attraction: Aum Shinrikyo's power of persuasion

The Japan TimesMASAMI ITO
March 14, 2015

On the morning of March 20, 1995, members of the Aum Shinrikyo (Supreme Truth) doomsday cult carried out the deadliest act of domestic terrorism in the postwar era, releasing a toxic nerve gas that killed 13 and injured thousands during the rush-hour in Tokyo.
Twenty years later, a number of victims continue to suffer physical or mental after-effects of the sarin attack, experiencing complications such as impaired speech, blurred vision and post-traumatic stress disorder. Some of the more unlucky ones are still confined to their beds.
To date, investigators have charged 192 Aum members over their alleged role in the attack, with 13 members, including leader Shoko Asahara, receiving the death sentence.
Katsuya Takahashi, who was arrested in June 2012 after being on the run for 17 years, is the last cultist still on trial. Takahashi is thought to have been the driver for one of the senior cultists who sprayed the gas, and faces charges that include murder, kidnapping and solitary confinement resulting in death, and violation of the Explosives Control Law. He pleaded not guilty to almost all charges against him at the beginning of his trial at the Tokyo District Court in January. A verdict is expected at the end of April.
Following Aum’s dismantlement, former members quickly reorganized into a group called Aleph in 2000. Others joined a splinter group headed by former Aum spokesman Fumihiro Joyu called Hikari no Wa (Circle of Rainbow Light). The spin-off groups will remain under the Public Security Intelligence Agency’s surveillance until the end of January 2018.
Marking the 20th anniversary of the sarin gas attack, The Japan Times talks to three people who have dedicated their lives to helping former cult members break free from Asahara’s influence: Hiroyuki Nagaoka, Nagaoka’s son and Taro Takimoto. The three of them offer their insights into the cult and reveal how difficult it is for members to distance themselves from the group once they decide to leave.
Nagaoka’s son, who has asked for his name to be withheld to protect the privacy of his family, first joined Aum Shinrikyo in the fall of 1987 when he was still a college student studying Indian philosophy. He had always been fascinated with religion and had, by this time, read more than 2,000 books on the subject. Picking up a couple of books published by Aum, he was surprised by the cult’s progressive ideas.
It didn’t take the son long to fall under the spell of visually impaired Aum guru Asahara, whose real name is Chizuo Matsumoto. He started to study the teachings of the cult, and take part in yoga classes. He went on to take part in a 10-day “madness” camp, during which participants were forced to undergo severe training that tested their physical strength to the limit. Desperate to become a fully fledged member, the son devoted himself completely to the cult.
Even though he was a college student, he made donations to Aum as often as he could, even skipping meals on occasion to save whatever money he could. “Mind control is sort of like magic — anyone is in danger of falling into that trap,” the son says. “Aum made it seem like you were free to make choices but, in reality, you were being guided toward those choices.”
He quickly took on a prominent role inside the cult, representing Aum in the media and opposing the actions of his father, who had founded a support group for parents whose children were being brainwashed by Asahara.
Like other cult members, the son was taught to believe that relationships with parents were unnecessary because they only represented his present life.
“The bond between Aum members was very strong because we thought we were connecting on a spiritual level,” he says. “We believed we are connected in our past lives as well as the future through reincarnation. I didn’t have a good relationship with my father at the time. I was taught that anything he said was evil nonsense.”
The son dedicated himself to Aum activities and worked tirelessly in the cult’s 1990 bid to get Asahara and 24 other members elected into the Diet. Eating one meal a day and sleeping a couple of hours each night, he spent his days distributing fliers and putting up campaign posters of Asahara.
One morning, he woke up suffering from amnesia — he had no idea who he was or what Aum Shinrikyo did. After a few days, he recovered most of his memory prior to his association with the cult, including his father’s phone number. His days with the cult were numbered.
After conducting his own research into Asahara and Aum Shinrikyo, he realized he had been lied to and was finally able to escape. “I was the son of the chairman of an Aum victims’ support group,” the son says. “If I had stayed, I would have either been killed or been forced to become involved in the sarin attacks.”
He went on a trip to India with his parents to meet with a close aide to the Dalai Lama, who denied that the Nobel peace laureate had instructed Asahara to propagate “real Buddhism” in Japan.
The son says he was able to escape the cult because of his parents, especially his father, Nagaoka, who refused to give up on him. Nagaoka publicly stood up to the cult, not only to help his son but also other parents whose children had been brainwashed.
By doing so, however, Nagaoka made himself a target and was attacked with VX nerve gas shortly before the sarin subway attack. He was almost killed in the attack.
“I feel terribly guilty for what I put my father through and always will,” the son says. “If I hadn’t joined Aum, he wouldn’t have been targeted in the VX attack. It was because of my father and mother that I was able to leave Aum. Not everyone is as lucky as I am because some people don’t have a family to go back to.”
The son has succeeded in helping more than 30 people leave Aum Shinrikyo. To this day, however, he regrets failing to convince convicted Aum member Masami Tsuchiya to quit. A few years before the sarin attack, the son spent weeks visiting a facility in Ibaraki Prefecture where Tsuchiya was being detained by his family members. He spent up to 10 hours a day talking to Tsuchiya, who remained impassive and eventually returned to the cult. Tsuchiya is now on death row after being found guilty of making the toxic gas that was used in the subway attacks.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t convince Tsuchiya to quit. If I had been successful, there probably wouldn’t have been sarin attacks in Matsumoto or Tokyo,” the son says. “Tsuchiya was older and smarter than me, and looked down on me as a failure. Nothing I said reached him.”
The son was in his mid-20s when the sarin attack happened. Now 46, he works as a contract employee and is also a certified Tibetan Buddhist monk.
He still tries to help some of the existing 1,650 members of Aleph and Hikari no Wa groups leave if approached by their families, but says it’s not easy to juggle a family and a full-time job.
“There are now people in my life that I need to protect and I can’t fully commit (to helping members quit),” the son says, noting that it takes countless hours to convince a member to leave.
Meanwhile, the people he once considered to be closer than his family are now on death row.
“If you kill someone, you have to atone for your sins in this life in accordance to Japanese law,” he says. “It’s true (the 12 men on death row) might have been under Asahara’s influence, but the reality is that they killed people. I don’t think our tax money should be used to keep them alive.”
Hiroyuki Nagaoka knew something was amiss when his son started asking him about receiving his inheritance before Nagaoka died. A short time later, he found a signed piece of paper in his son’s room pledging to give all assets he inherited from his father to “Holy Master Asahara.”
From that day forth, he was locked in a constant battle to free his son from the cult’s influence. “Aum turned our children into mindless people without a sense of their own free will,” Nagaoka says. “They became unable to determine good from bad and that is why Aum members didn’t think twice about murder. They became Asahara’s puppets.”
Nagaoka suspected the cult was after his land — more than 500 sq. meters in Tokyo’s expensive Aoyama shopping district. He did everything he could to break the cult’s hold on his son, and even went as far as to read Aum books and attend seminars delivered by Asahara.
Journalist Shoko Egawa introduced Nagaoka to lawyer Tsutsumi Sakamoto, who helped him launch a group in October 1989 to help support families of cult members.
Sakamoto, a young lawyer who was interested in human rights issues, was vocal about the cult’s suspicious activities. He had been preparing to file a civil lawsuit against Aum Shinrikyo when he, his wife and 1-year-old son mysteriously disappeared in November 1989. They remained “missing” for years and it was only after the 1995 sarin attack that Aum members admitted to killing them in the early hours of Nov. 4, 1989, and burying their bodies in separate locations in Nagano, Niigata and Toyama prefectures. To prevent them from being identified, the killers even went so far as to smash the victims’ teeth.
The slaying of Sakamoto and his family affects Nagaoka to this day. “For the first nine years (after Sakamoto was found and buried in a cemetery), my wife and I visited his grave every month to apologize,” he says, choking up on his words. “He was the one that told me that there are times when you need to take a stand. And that is why I have been continuing my activities now for more than 20 years.”
Nagaoka devoted himself to getting his only son back. He hired a private detective to look into Asahara’s background. He walked all around Kanda, visiting Chinese medicine stores to collect evidence that the “special” medicine Asahara was selling for outrageous prices was actually very cheap. He sold off his land and was pressured into quitting his job because Aum members began harassing him at his office and he knew his continued presence would only hurt his company.
However, Nagaoka refused to give in, repeatedly confronting Asahara and other senior cult members. “I called him out on his lies and told him to his face that a liar had no right to preach,” Nagaoka says.
It wasn’t long before Nagaoka became a Aum target. In January 1995, Aum cult members — including Takahashi — attempted to kill Nagaoka by spraying him with VX nerve gas. Nagaoka suffered a cardiorespiratory arrest and was in critical condition for 10 days. He recovered, but the nerve gas paralyzed the right side of his body, forcing him to visit a hospital every month for treatment.
Nagaoka has attended Takahashi’s trial almost every day since it began, noting that the suspect has yet to show any sign of remorse for his actions. Nagaoka also wrote to the former cult member immediately after his arrest almost three years ago, but hasn’t heard anything from him. “It is obvious he is still under Asahara’s influence. He doesn’t seem to be human any more,” he says. “I understand he’s a puppet of Asahara and, therefore, harbor absolutely no personal hatred against him.”
His compassion extends to other senior cultists on death row, and his Aum Shinrikyo Kazoku no Kai (Aum Shinrikyo Family Group) has launched a petition that seeks to pardon 12 of them, excluding Asahara. For more than 25 years, Nagaoka has led the support group. At 76, he cannot travel far from his home because he needs to carry an oxygen tank wherever he goes. Nagaoka, however, says he has no intention of stopping his activities “as long as the Aum cult still exists,” regardless of its name.
Over the years, Nagaoka has apologized to each victim he encounters. “Nothing I say will ever make up for the serious crimes our children committed, but the first thing I do is apologize,” he says. “It is our duty as parents to ensure that our children become people who can once again think for themselves.”
When Sakamoto first asked Taro Takimoto to help him on a case related to the Aum cult, the lawyer curtly turned his friend down. Cults were notoriously difficult to deal with and he was reluctant to get involved. However, Takimoto was quick to offer his services to parents seeking to get their children back from Aum Shinrikyo when Sakamoto went missing — at times, even directly negotiating with senior cult members.
“People are vulnerable and everyone is in danger of falling under their influence,” Takimoto says. “Most of these Aum children were honest, hard-working people who grew up not knowing that this kind of evil exists in the world.”
Takimoto and Nagaoka’s son began offering counseling services in July 1993, helping members to extract themselves from the clutches of the cult. They typically spend a great deal of time with each individual, building trust and discussing a wide range of issues such as religion, mathematics and even aliens. It was a long and arduous process, he recalls.
“Cult members no longer know the difference between right or wrong,” Takimoto says. “It is the same with Islamic State militants — they think they’re doing the right thing by beheading people. Aum members could equally commit murder because of their strong religious beliefs. This is what makes them extremely dangerous.”
Takimoto would first make Aum members question the small actions they carried out for the group, including such things as buying Asahara’s books with money provided by the cult.
He would slowly work his way up to showing the Aum members the now famous photograph of him “levitating” in the air. Asahara told his followers that he could levitate like this, and showed pictures of him with his legs crossed floating above the ground.
Takimoto proved that it’s possible for anyone to fake this by taking a remarkably similar photo himself. “Asahara used the photos of him ‘levitating’ to convince his followers he had achieved the ultimate state of mind,” Takimoto says. “He found my photo disrespectful.”
Indeed, it didn’t take long for Takimoto to wind up on Asahara’s hit list. Although investigators ultimately indicted just one case, the cult tried to kill the lawyer with sarin, VX nerve gas and botulinum toxin on four separate occasions.
Takimoto, however, refused to back down. He instructed his family to live apart temporarily and took out a life insurance policy that would pay more than ¥280 million in the event of a death.
When former Aum members told him about criminal activities that had taken place inside the cult, including the use of illegal drugs and the death of at least one member on their grounds, he passed on these facts to the police.
Both Takimoto and Nagaoka agree that the sarin subway attack could have been prevented had the police paid closer attention to their warnings.
Takimoto goes so far as to claim that Nagaoka’s case was grossly mishandled.
The only reason police officers investigated the site where Nagaoka was attacked with VX nerve gas was because the lawyer got in their faces. Even then, the police brushed it off as an attempted suicide using a type of organophosphate pesticide.
“Both the sarin subway attack and the attempt on Mr. Nagaoka’s life could have been prevented if the police had taken proper action,” Takimoto says. “I told the police that Mr. Nagaoka was in serious danger but they didn’t listen. … The police clearly made a mistake in dealing with this case, determining that Mr. Nagaoka attempted suicide without any grounds to back up their theory.”
About 20 years have passed since Takimoto established Kanariya no Kai (Canary Group) that consists of more than 100 former cult members. Some have gone back to night school because they were young when they were in the cult and didn’t complete a proper education; others have found jobs in the welfare industry. For many, life back in the real world hasn’t been easy and a third of the people Takimoto has assisted have sought help for depression. Some have since committed suicide.
Like Nagaoka, Takimoto also believes that the only person who should be executed for his crimes is Asahara. “Asahara is a man who is 100 percent full of worldly desires,” Takimoto says. “He has a strong urge for power and his hatred toward society for not being able to achieve it is deep. Executing him is the only way to bring some sort of closure.”
This is the first installment of a two-part series to mark the 20th anniversary of the sarin gas attacks in Tokyo. The second installment will appear on March 22.


Mar 13, 2015

MARCH 15th - ICSA Annual Conference early registration deadline date - Register now!


ONLINE CONFERENCE INFORMATION:  http://www.icsahome.com/events/conferenceannual

Registration Form

ICSA's 2015 Annual International Conference will be conducted jointly with Info-Secte/Info-Cult of Montreal and Hjälpkällan (Help Source - a support organization for people leaving closed religious movements) in Stockholm, Sweden June 25-27, 2015 (preconference workshops on Wednesday June 24th).  This year's theme is Children in High-Control Groups. There will be a series of sessions on the conference theme as well presentations relevant to the needs of mental health professionals, former members, researchers, families, and others.
The conference will take place at the Ariadne Scandic Hotel in Stockholm.  Address: Södra Kajen 37, SE-115 41 Stockholm, Sweden. Reservations:  Call +46 8 517 386 52 or +46 8 517 386 05.  Or e-mail:  meeting.ariadne@scandichotels.com.  Give the following booking code to obtain the conference rate of 1220 SEK (single) and 1320 SEK (double):  35350101.  The rate includes a full buffet breakfast.
You can register online and obtain details on accommodations, sessions, transportation, and other matters on ICSA's annual conference home page:  http://www.icsahome.com/events/conferenceannual
ICSA members receive a discount; nonmembers receive an ICSA web membership with their registration. Speakers registered for three days receive an additional discount, if they register before the March 15th discount deadline.
If you don't have access to the Web and want lodging and other information, please contact us (PH: 239-514-3081; Fax: 305-393-8193; mail@icsamail.com; PO Box 2265, Bonita Springs, FL 34133, USA).

Program
The program will be varied, with numerous sessions pertinent to former members of cultic groups, families, helping professionals, researchers, and others.  All sessions will be conducted in English.  This conference has about 100 speakers, so there will be much to choose from.  There will be a Phoenix Project exhibit of art and literary works, organized by Diana Pletts, as well as poster sessions.  A draft agenda (subject to change) can be found here: http://www.icsahome.com/events/conferenceannual/agenda
On Wednesday, June 24th, there will be preconference workshops for mental-health professionals, researchers, families, and former members of high-demand groups.  Preconference workshops are free for conference registrants.


.

Mar 11, 2015

1,800 Studies Later, Scientists Conclude Homeopathy Doesn’t Work

Erin Blakemore
SMITHSONIAN.COM
MARCH 11, 2015

Perhaps you remember when scientists debunked homeopathy in 2002. Or 2010. Or 2014. But now a major Australian study analyzing over 1,800 papers has shown that homeopathy, the alternative treatment that relies on super-diluted substances and the principle of “like cures like” is completely ineffective.

After assessing more than 1,800 studies on homeopathy, Australia’s National Health and Medical Research Council was only able to find 225 that were rigorous enough to analyze. And a systematic review of these studies revealed “no good quality evidence to support the claim that homeopathy is effective in treating health conditions.”

The Australian study, which is the first position statement relying on such an extensive review of medical literature, strikes the latest blow at a 200-year-old alternative treatment developed by a German physician with “no interest in detailed pathology, and none in conventional diagnosis and treatment.” The Washington Post reports that the study’s authors are concerned that people who continue to choose homeopathic remedies over proven medicine face real health risks—including the nearly 4 million Americans who use homeopathic “medicines.”

The head of the National Health and Medical Research Council told the Guardian that he hopes the findings will lead to changes in Australia’s health insurance and pharmacy systems. But he also said that “there will be a tail of people who won’t respond to this report, and who will say it’s all a conspiracy of the establishment.”

News of the Australian study comes on the heels of newly released National Health Interview Survey data showing a “small but significant” increase in the use of homeopathy during 2012. And recently, a Canadian homeopathic college came under fire for taking an anti-vaccination stance and promoting homeopathic “nosodes” as an alternative to vaccines.

But will the not-so-new news that homeopathy is ineffective keep consumers from wasting their money on the complementary therapy? If the growing homeopathic industry is any indication, the answer is probably no.

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/1800-studies-later-scientists-conclude-homeopathy-doesnt-work-180954534/

CultNews101 on Flipboard.

CultNEWS101 - http://flip.it/1twp2

Mar 10, 2015

I Grew Up in a Cult. Here's What Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt Gets Right.

Slate
Flora Edwards
MARCH 10, 2015

This article originally appeared in Vulture.

For most viewers who stream the new Netflix show Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, the story line will be an unfamiliar peek into what it’s like to emerge into the world after living in an underground doomsday cult. But for me, having grown up in an apocalyptic cult, which cut me off from the world completely until I was 14, it’s all too familiar. While there may be some plot points that are structurally incongruent, there are important details that are strikingly spot-on.

Set in rural Indiana in the time of viral YouTube videos, officers raid an underground bunker while four women inside, known as the “mole women,” cheerfully chant, “Apocalypse, apocalypse, we caused it by our dumbness,” to the tune of “Oh, Christmas Tree.” Kimmy Schmidt sees the light of day for the first time in 15 years, and her life goes spinning into a whole new orbit. Savior Rick’s Spooky Church of the Scary-pocalypse, was postapocalyptic. The cult that I grew up in, the Children of God, was preapocalyptic. “Father” David Brandt Berg, the leader of the Children of God, led his 12,000 followers to believe that we lived in preparation for the end-times that would come in 1993.

Like Kimmy, growing up, my days were tightly regimented, and I was constantly being watched. Unlike Kimmy, I never saw our leader nor knew what he looked like, as he lived in complete hiding. Richard Wayne Gary Wayne (an awesome name for a Netflix cult leader, by the way) is also enigmatic, and we don’t see his face until later in the season. When the mole women emerge from underground, they land a guest spot on the Today show with Matt Lauer, who questions them about their past. It’s in these first five minutes of the pilot episode that the stage is set: One woman sold her hair to Wayne on Craigslist; another was lured into his car to “look at baby rabbits” after he was a regular customer at the steakhouse she worked at. She joined because, as she put it, she didn’t “want to look rude.” These are all lighthearted spoofs that poke fun at the reality behind cult radicalism and religious extremism, but I’m curious to know Richard Wayne Gary Wayne’s motive: Is he just a womanizing pervert who gathers a group of women who believe his every word, or is there some ideology captivating them to stay? I can say from personal experience that no one would stay in a cult without some promise of utopia or change.

When 29-year-old Kimmy decides to stay in New York instead of going back to Indiana with the rest of her clan, her wide-eyed wonderment is met with all the typical conflicts of living in a big city: She has to find an apartment, a job, and, of course, a flourishing social life. These are the perfect obstacles for someone who has spent 15 years in an underground bunker (unlike me, she was forcibly recruited, i.e. kidnapped, at 14, the youngest member of the cult). These first few minutes of B-roll are spot-on—Kimmy runs alongside a random jogger because she’s just so happy to be outside (cult escapees are unrealistically grateful—for everything!). A quick clip shows her discovering water flowing out of a faucet and then laughing in glee at the hand dryer in a public restroom (a public restroom for an ex-cult-member is a novel idea—functioning toilets and running water are a first-class experience).

For a 29-year-old, Kimmy’s enthusiasm to be at a park and swinging in a swing for the first time might seem questionable, but it’s not. I remember the first time I walked on soft wood chips at a park in the suburb of Berwyn near Chicago. I will never forget the first time we stepped off the plane at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport and my 11 siblings and I discovered a drinking fountain for the first time. We all gathered around and took turns pressing the button that magically spouted a clear fluid arch of drinkable liquid. We probably looked hilarious, but it didn’t matter; we had discovered water like it was life on Mars. Kimmy doesn’t care either if she looks ridiculous; she is discovering the world for the first time, and that is the appeal of the journey of Kimmy Schmidt.

When you’ve grown up in a cult your whole life (or since your early teens, as in Kimmy’s case), you want nothing more than to be “normal,” although you don’t quite have a grip on what this “normal” is. All you know is that you’re not it. At one point we hear Kimmy explicitly say, “I just wanna be a normal person.” She satisfies this desire by buying herself the coolest pair of tennis shoes that light up, throwing herself at guys trying to kiss them, and engaging in life with an uncharacteristic optimism that no doubt stems from her years in isolation. On my first day of high school, I wanted nothing more than to be normal. I had never bought clothes in my entire life, but I found a shirt I thought was cool. I was kicked out for showing too much cleavage—an offense I did not know was worthy of expulsion. This was just the first instance in an adolescence (and adulthood) full of misunderstanding and confusing miscalculations.

I resolved at some point that, as Kimmy so aptly puts it, “The worse thing that can happen has already happened.” I was going to have to find my way, like Kimmy, to cope with this world that I was unprepared for. (Sadly, I didn’t have the brilliant writing of Tina Fey or background music during my personal moments of triumph.) Like Kimmy, I learned to cope by learning to understand people. Maybe our backgrounds were different, but deep down, inside, we were all the same. I reasoned, at some point, that nobody really felt normal (in fact, there was no such thing!) and everyone was just trying to fit in.

Growing up in a cult gives you an abnormal zest for life, and Kimmy Schmidt exuberates this confidence fittingly (although being stripped of your identity and being told that you’re “garbage” and a “dum-dum” would lead to a less-than-sunny disposition in real life). But Kimmy’s optimism, coupled with her resilience, is what makes the show relatable and endearing. Her character will be the broad appeal of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.

http://www.slate.com/blogs/browbeat/2015/03/10/unbreakable_kimmy_schmidt_cult_a_former_cult_member_on_what_the_show_gets.html?wpisrc=obnetwork

Pseudo Science And The Age Of Irrationalism

Forbes3/07/2015
Mike Collins

Wikipedia defines pseudo science as “a claim, belief, or practice which is presented as scientific, but which does not adhere to a valid scientific methodology, lacks supporting evidence or plausibility, cannot be reliably tested, or otherwise lacks scientific status.

Pseudo science ignores the scientific method. It makes conclusions and then looks for facts to support the conclusions. In pseudoscience there is no healthy skepticism about fantastic claims, in fact there is an enthusiasm to accept untested personal testimony as a public truth ( as in the stories about UFOS).

It is more about what someone feels then facts. The elevation of individual testimony or sensation over logic and verifiable fact is not only popular; it is often linked to religion, spirituality, popular psychology and cults. Pseudoscience enthusiasts offer a hypothesis first and ignore facts such as the assertion that ancient aliens were behind most changes in history.

  • A recent Time/Yankelvich poll found that 80% of Americans feel that the government is covering up information about extra-terrestrials.
  • 68% of citizens support child vaccines compared to 86% of scientists
  • 57% do not know that electrons are smaller than atoms.
  • 84% percent of scientists think that humans are warming the planet by burning fossil fuels but only 49% of the public believes it.
  • 93% of scientists support federal research on funding on stem cells versus 58% of the public.
  • About 46% of the public believes, “God created human beings pretty much in their present form at one time within the last 10,000 years” and this number has not changed since 1982
  • 63% of American adults are unaware that the last dinosaur died before humans arose.
According to a recent Pew Research poll, science is on the decline in terms of public interest. At the same time there is almost a universal criticism of our education system directed at students, teachers, school administrators, and their curriculums. And the latest “magic curriculum” that is being offered is called STEM LEARNING which is supported by the Federal, State, and local governments as well as the manufacturing sector. This program aims to make kids better at science, engineering, technology and math.

I am a supporter of the STEM learning initiative, and feel strongly that all citizens (not just students) need to have a better understanding of science. But I have a big question that relates to STEM learning. How can we ask kids to be more interested in science and math when their parents are enamored by pseudo-science?

Pseudo-science comes in the form of books, products, seminars, newspapers, magazines, pop psychology, religion and TV shows. I think TV is very representative of what people are really interested in because it is based on ratings and numbers of viewers. There are channels called the history and science channels on cable TV but these are oxymoron’s because there is very little real science or history. Most of the programs are about UFOs and Ancient Aliens with a smattering of reality shows like Swamp People.

All of these examples make it very clear that pseudo science is a lot more popular with the public then real science which I believe is a real danger for the future. But before any attempt at making a case for science literacy, it is important to understand why people like pseudoscience.

Pseudo-science is very appealing to people who like black and white or fundamentalist thinking such as creationists and new earthers. People attracted to fundamentalist solutions prefer simple solutions to very complex problems. Secondly a lot of people who took science courses in high school remember very little science because the courses were taught through rote memorization. Third science is not easy to study and many people simply avoid hard subjects. And perhaps the biggest problem is that pseudo-science is easier and more entertaining than the real thing.

To put this problem in a larger perspective, American Manufacturing must be able to compete with the rest of the world by advancing science and technology. Manufacturers know this and are crying for students who can take courses in Science Technology, Engineering and Math.

Of all of the subjects that students can master in their STEM learning, I think understanding the scientific method way of thinking is the most important lesson that can be learned. In the scientific approach to analysis, people create a hypothesis, describe the facts that support the hypothesis, and then publish their findings as conclusions. Science has a built in system of checking for errors, by letting anyone on the planet try to find errors in the facts or conclusions. The theory is based on provable facts and your conclusions will not be accepted until a majority of the critics agree they are valid.

We are in a century where there will be many changes to the planet and environment. . In our new century, science will permeate all industries and most of our major problems. But with so few citizens’ really understanding science there will be big problems. The late Carl Sagan summed up this problem in his book the Demon Haunted World: “We’ve arranged a global civilization in which most crucial elements profoundly depend on science and technology. We have also arranged things so that almost no one understands science and technology. This is a prescription for disaster. We might get away with it for a while, but sooner or later this combustible mixture of ignorance and power is going to blow up in our face,” I think that the most critical factor in student learning are their parents. Parents are in the unenviable but responsible position of setting an example for their children and being involved in the learning process. Parent’s involvement is crucial to developing the child’s academic ability and confidence. 

Dr. Patricia Porter makes the case that parents are very influential in 3 ways:

  1. Modeling– “Children love you and want to be like you. They watch what you do and try to do what you do. Modeling is the most important way you influence your child’s behavior.”
  2. Mentoring “Sharing your knowledge and experience with your children will help them develop skills.”
  3. Mediate – You need to mediate between your child and the world around him. You can help your children understand science and the realities of the world by preparing yourself in the realities and basics of science.
How can a student focus on geology and the search for natural resources if parents tell them that geological dating methods are wrong and the world is only 10,000 years old? How will we train the future doctors, nurses, and medical technicians if they are told that the principles of evolution and biology are not proven? How will students be able to understand and analyze the problems of gas emissions and make a decision about climate change if they don’t know basic chemistry? More importantly, how will students understand many of the advanced and complicated concepts in STEM learning if their parents cannot model, mentor, or mediate?

Pseudo-Science leads to irrationalism


Parents, not just students, are going to have to learn more about science just to play their role as mentors to their children. To even have a chance of understanding the natural world and all of the problems that are coming at us in the future, parents need to set a better example for their kids. They need to be less gullible and better at critical thinking and more skeptical about fantastic claims. They need to understand that fantastic claims require fantastic evidence.

Rather than accept a claim that appeals to them emotionally, people need to learn more about the scientific method. It is a way of looking at the world as it is, rather than how we would wish it to be.

The 21st century is going to bring some fantastic breakthroughs in stem cell research, cloning, coding of DNA, fusion, quantum physics, artificial intelligence, computers, microelectronics, materials science, nanotechnology and the conquest of disease. Pseudo-science can lead to blind antipathy to reason and lead people away from making good decisions or understanding the true nature of the world we live in and the problems we must solve. It makes people gullible to fantastic claims taken at face value without investigation. A good example is the current antipathy to vaccines by 32% of our citizens which has led to a rash of infections in Southern California.

It will be very tempting for people to be attracted to superstition, cult theories, and pseudo-science for answers. Unless we can make a lot more headway in discounting the importance of pseudo-science we will continue to move towards a society where irrationalism will prevail, clutching our crystals and magnets to our heart.
http://www.forbes.com/sites/mikecollins/2015/03/07/pseudo-science-and-the-age-of-irrationalism/

Australian fake Hare Krishna guru jailed for repeated rape of three teenage French girls

March 10, 2015
RFI

An Australian man who passed himself off as a Hare Krishna guru was on Monday sentenced to 19 years in jail in France for repeatedly raping three teenage girls he turned into sex slaves.
Sean O'Neil, a 43-year-old computer programmer, was found guilty by a closed-door appeals court in the southern French city of Aix-en-Provence of multiple rape and of corrupting minors.
The court rejected O'Neil's argument the sex was consensual.
It confirmed a lower court's October 2013 conviction and lengthened the original sentence of 15 years’ jail to 19.
It also barred him from returning to France once he had served his time.
O'Neil forced four teenage girls to live as naked slaves in his French Riviera apartment in the town of Valbonne, subjecting them to pornographic photo sessions and making them recite the Hare Krishna mantra 1,700 times a day.
He regularly raped them between 2009 and 2010 while they were aged around 15.
One expert testified that the girls cooperated because they were in a trance-like state approaching hypnosis.
The victims described O'Neil as a "guru" who urged them to recruit other young virgins of the same age with the aim of starting a commune in Australia.
The crimes came to light in 2010 after one of the girls described what they were enduring to a school employee.


Reflexology = placebo therapy

March 9, 2015
Edzard Ernst

Reflexology is the treatment of reflex zones, usually on the sole of the feet, with manual massage and pressure. Reflexologists assume that certain zones correspond to certain organs, and that their treatment can influence the function of these organs. Thus reflexology is advocated for all sorts of conditions. Proponents are keen to point out that their approach has many advantages: it is pleasant (the patient feels well with the treatment and the therapist feels even better with the money), safe and cheap, particularly if the patient does the treatment herself.

Self-administered foot reflexology could be practical because it is easy to learn and not difficult to apply. But is it also effective? A recent systematic review evaluated the effectiveness of self-foot reflexology for symptom management.

Participants were healthy persons not diagnosed with a specific disease. The intervention was foot reflexology administered by participants, not by practitioners or healthcare providers. Studies with either between groups or within group comparison were included. The electronic literature searches utilized core databases (MEDLINE, EMBASE, Cochrane, and CINAHL Chinese (CNKI), Japanese (J-STAGE), and Korean databases (KoreaMed, KMbase, KISS, NDSL, KISTI, and OASIS)).

Three non-randomized trials and three before-and-after studies met the inclusion criteria. No RCTs were located. The results of these studies showed that self-administered foot reflexology resulted in significant improvement in subjective outcomes such as perceived stress, fatigue, and depression. However, there was no significant improvement in objective outcomes such as cortisol levels, blood pressure, and pulse rate. We did not find any randomized controlled trial.

The authors concluded that this study presents the effectiveness of self-administered foot reflexology for healthy persons’ psychological and physiological symptoms. While objective outcomes showed limited results, significant improvements were found in subjective outcomes. However, owing to the small number of studies and methodological flaws, there was insufficient evidence supporting the use of self-performed foot reflexology. Well-designed randomized controlled trials are needed to assess the effect of self-administered foot reflexology in healthy people.

I find this review quite interesting, but I would draw very different conclusions from its findings.

The studies that are available turned out to be of very poor methodological quality: they lack randomisation or rely on before/after comparisons. This means they are wide open to bias and false-positive results, particularly in regards to subjective outcome measures. Predictably, the findings of this review confirm that no effects are seen on objective endpoints. This is in perfect agreement with the hypothesis that reflexology is a pure placebo. Considering the biological implausibility of the underlying assumptions of reflexology, this makes sense.

My conclusions of this review would therefore be as follows: THE RESULTS ARE IN KEEPING WITH REFLEXOLOGY BEING A PURE PLACEBO.

Mar 9, 2015

Iceman Cometh

Scott Carney

May 21, 2014

A dilapidated farmhouse in the Polish countryside creaks and groans on its foundation as six men hyperventilate inside one of its frigid rooms. The windows are caked with frost and snow piles up outside the front door. Wim Hof surveys his students with stern blue eyes as he counts their breaths. They are lying in sleeping bags and covered in blankets. Every breath they expel appears as a tiny puff of mist as the heat of their bodies crystallizes in the near-arctic air. When the students are bleached white from exhaustion, Hof commands them to let all the air out of their lungs and hold their breath until their bodies shake and shudder. I exhale all my breath into the frigid air.

“Fainting is okay,” he says. “It just means you went deep.”

Hof is one of the world’s most recognized extremophiles. In 2007 he made headlines around the world when he attempted to summit Mount Everest wearing nothing but spandex shorts and hiking boots. He has run barefoot marathons in the arctic circle and submerged his entire body beneath the ice for almost two hours. Every feat defies the boundaries of what medical science says is possible. Hof believes he is much more than a stuntman performing tricks; he thinks he has stumbled on hidden evolutionary potential locked inside every human body.

With my lungs empty and my head dizzy from hyperventilation, I note the stopwatch on my iPad as it slowly ticks by the seconds. At 30 seconds I want to let go and feel the cool air rush inside, but I hold on.

Participants have come from across Europe and America for this seven-day training program aimed at extending control over the body’s autonomic processes. The human body performs most of its daily functions on autopilot. Whether it’s regulating internal temperature, setting the steady pace of a heartbeat or rushing lymph and blood to a limb when it’s injured, the body, like a computer, uses preset responses for most external stimuli. Hof’s training aims to create a wedge between the body’s internal programming and external pressures in order to force the body to cede control to the conscious mind. He is a hacker, tweaking the body’s programming to expand its capabilities.

At 60 seconds, with empty lungs, my diaphragm begins to quiver and I have to rock back and forth to keep from gasping. Even so, my mind is strangely calm. My eyes are closed, and I see swirling red shapes behind my lids. Hof explains that the light is a window into my pituitary gland.

Hof promises he can teach people to hold their breath for five minutes and stay warm without clothes in freezing snow. With a few days of training I should be able to consciously control my immune system to ramp up against sicknesses or, if necessary, suppress it against autoimmune malfunctions such as arthritis and lupus. It’s a tall order, to be sure. The world is full of would-be gurus proffering miracle cures, and Hof’s promises sound superhuman.

The undertaking resonates with a male clientele willing to wage war on their bodies and pay $2,000 for the privilege of a weeklong program. Across the room Hans Spaan’s hands are shaking. Diagnosed with Parkinson’s 10 years ago, he had to quit his job as an IT executive, but he claims Hof’s method has enabled him to cut the amount of drugs his doctors insist he needs. Next to him, Andrew Lescelius, a Nebraskan whose asthma can be crippling, hasn’t used his inhaler for a week.

For almost an hour we’ve been cycling between hyperventilating and holding our breath. Every repetition has made it incrementally easier to hold on just a bit longer. Hof tells us the quick breathing adds oxygen to our blood supply so that, at least until we use it up, we don’t have to rely on the air in our lungs to survive. The autonomic urge to gasp for air is based on the mind’s ordinary programming: No air in the lungs means it’s time to breathe. My nervous system hasn’t yet realized there’s still air in my blood.

Ninety-two seconds and my vision starts to cloud over. The room has taken on a red sheen I don’t remember being there before. I may be seeing lights. I let go and allow air to rush in. It’s far from a record, but after only an hour of trying, it’s my longest attempt. I smile with a small sense of accomplishment.

Hof then commands us to undergo another breathing cycle, but this time, instead of holding my breath, he instructs me to do as many push-ups as I can. Raised on a diet of cheese curds and little exercise, I’m out of shape. At home I can manage an embarrassingly feeble 20 before collapsing. Now, with no air in my lungs, I push myself off the floor with almost no effort. They roll out one after another, and before I know it I’ve done 40

I decide I’m going to have to reevaluate everything I’ve ever thought about gurus. Hof is a difficult figure to dissect. On one level he speaks in a familiar creole of New Age mumbo jumbo. There’s a spiel about universal compassion and connection to divine energies. Then, of course, there are the results. His relatively simple exercises make undeniable changes in my body seemingly overnight. Following his prescriptions for a week, I hack my body to perform physical feats of endurance I didn’t think possible and earn confidence I didn’t know I had. As a bonus, I lose seven pounds of fat—which come out in oily clumps during my morning eliminations.

Our goal by the end of the week: to complete an arduous eight-hour climb up a powder-covered mountain, wearing nothing but shorts. It will be my own personal Everest, though in this case the mountain is called Sneˇzˇka. But even with these first routines in the safety of a training room, I’m not sure I’m up for it.

I am at the mercy of Hof, who wears a pointy green hat that makes him look like a life-size garden gnome. A bushy beard frames his piercing blue eyes and ruddy nose, and his body bristles with tightly corded muscles. A six-inch surgical scar across his stomach marks a time he took his training too far and ended up in the hospital. Hof is a savant and a madman. He’s a prophet and a foil. And as is occasionally the case with people who try to cultivate superpowers, Hof’s abilities have come at a heavy price.

Born in the Dutch city of Sittard in 1959, on the eve of Europe’s hippie revolution, Hof spent his early years in the middle of a working-class family of nine children. While the rest of the Hof family learned Catholic liturgy, Wim became fascinated with Eastern teachings, memorizing parts of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras and scouring the Bhagavad Gita and Zen Buddhism for wisdom. He was keen on exploring the connections between the body and the mind, but none of what he read was quite what he was looking for.

Then, in the winter of 1979, when he was 20 years old, he was walking alone on a frosty morning in Amsterdam’s picturesque Beatrixpark when he noticed a thin skin of ice on one of the canals. He wondered what it would feel like if he jumped in. With juvenile impulsiveness he has never quite shed, he took off his clothes and plunged in naked. The shock was immediate, he says, but “the feeling wasn’t of cold; it was something like tremendous good. I was in the water only a minute, but time just slowed down. It felt like ages.” A wash of endorphins cruised through his system, and the high lasted through the afternoon. He went on to repeat the exercise every day since. “The cold is my teacher,” he says.

The breathing technique emerged naturally. He started by mimicking the rapid breaths people take instinctively when they plunge into icy water, which he says are similar to the breaths a woman takes during childbirth. In both cases the body switches to an instinctual program. When Hof dunked under the ice, he went from rapid breathing to holding his breath. That’s when he began to feel changes in his body.

The way Hof explains it, humans must have evolved with an innate ability to resist the elements. Our remote ancestors traversed icy mountains and parched deserts long before they invented the most basic footwear or animal-skin coats. While technology has made us more comfortable, the underlying biology is still there, and the key to unlocking our lost potential lies in re-creating the sorts of harsh experiences our ancestors would have faced.

Hof trained on his own in obscurity for 15 years, rarely talking about his growing abilities. His first student was his son Enahm. When Enahm was still an infant, Hof took him down to the canals and dunked him in the water like Achilles. While it’s anyone’s guess what nearby pedestrians might have thought of this sight, most of his close friends shrugged off his morning routines as just another eccentricity in an already eccentric city.

Hof did odd jobs, including working as a mail carrier, and took gigs as a canyoneering instructor in Spain during the summers. Money was always a problem, and his wife—a beautiful Basque woman named Olaya—began to show signs of a serious mental disorder. She was depressed. She heard voices. In July 1995 she jumped off the eighth floor of her parents’ apartment building in Pamplona on the first day of the Running of the Bulls.

Sitting at a handmade wooden table in what serves as lunchroom and breakfast nook in his Polish headquarters, Hof recounts Olaya’s death as tears roll freely down his cheeks. “Why would God take my wife from me?” he asks. Confronted with loss and a broken heart, he put all his faith into the one thing that set him apart from everyone else: his ability to control his body. Olaya had never shown interest in Hof’s methods, but he felt he could have done more to help her. “The inclination I have to train people now is because of my wife’s death,” says Hof. “I can bring people back to tranquility. Schizophrenia and multiple-personality disorder draw away people’s energy. My method can give them back control.” It was his call to action. But he still needed a way to announce himself to the world.

His opportunity came a few years later. As winter settled on Amsterdam, a local newspaper ran a series of articles about odd things people did in the snow. Hof called the editor and explained that for the past couple of decades he’d been skinny-dipping in icy water. The paper sent a reporter, and Hof jumped into a nearby lake he frequented. The next week a television crew showed up.

In one famous segment, Hof cut holes in the ice and jumped in while a Dutch news crew filmed. He was drying himself off when, a few meters away, a man stepped on a thin patch and fell through. Hof charged out onto the lake, jumped in a second time and dragged the man to safety. The news crew caught the exchange, and soon Hof wasn’t just a local oddity, he was a local hero. Someone dubbed him the Iceman, and the name stuck.

After that act of heroism, Hof became a household name across the Netherlands. A Dutch television program hosted by the eminent newscaster Willibrord Frequin asked Hof to perform on camera. The gimmick was to have Hof establish a Guinness world record. They planned for him to swim 50 meters beneath arctic ice without breathing. It would be sensationalist fun, but the program would air throughout Scandinavia and give Hof a shot at doing stunts for other channels around the world.

A few weeks later Hof stood on the surface of a frozen lake near the small village of Pello, Finland, a handful of miles from the arctic circle, wearing only a bathing suit. Although the temperature would drop to minus 12 degrees Fahrenheit, his skin glistened with sweat. Below him a diamond-shape hole shot down a meter through the ice. There were two other holes 25 and 50 meters from the first. A camera crew watched as Hof descended and dipped his toe in the periwinkle waters.

On the first day of shooting he was supposed to swim only to the first hole so the crew could get the right shots and feel comfortable with the safety setup. But Hof had other plans. He wanted to surprise and impress the crew by clearing the whole distance in one go. He had done his calculations in advance. One stroke took him one meter, so he would need to do 50 to reach his destination. Taking a giant gulp of air into his lungs, Hof disappeared and began his sprint.

He later recalled that he opened his eyes midway between the first and second hole and could make out a beam of sunlight slicing through the water. But at stroke 29, with the safety of the first hole and rescue team behind him, something went wrong. He hadn’t anticipated what the cold water would do to his eyes. His corneas began to freeze over, and crystallization blurred his vision. Five strokes later he was blind, with only his stroke count to direct him to oxygen. Soon he was off course. At 50 strokes he grabbed around in vain for the rim of the second hole. He turned around thinking maybe he had passed it. He wanted to gasp for air but knew the results would be fatal. At 65 strokes his hope was beginning to fade. Seventy strokes in, just as he began to lose consciousness, he felt a hand wrap around his ankle. A safety diver dragged him to the surface. He knew he had almost died and that his hubris had led him there. Despite that close call, the next day he would set a world record, with the cameras rolling.

The show went on to be a hit and secured him a series of similar on-air stunts for international channels from Discovery to National Geographic. But success came at a price. Although he was capable of incredible feats, Hof’s desire to impress and please the people around him would time and again lead him into near-fatal situations. Should he die, the world might never understand how he had achieved his dramatic results. Hof needed a better plan.

To understand Hof’s abilities, I board a plane from Los Angeles to Wrocaw, Poland, where he meets me at the terminal gate with a broad smile. Hof decided to make his headquarters here instead of the Netherlands so he could be close to icy streams and snow-covered mountains—and also take advantage of the weaker economy to purchase a larger space. We pile into a tiny gray Volkswagen with two other devotees—a Croatian and a Latvian—who have come to study his technique, and we traverse miles of Polish pines and picturesque villages toward Hof’s rural headquarters.

Janis Kuze sits crammed next to me with my hiking backpack overflowing onto his lap. The burly Latvian grew up amid the turmoil of a collapsing Soviet Union, when bandits roamed the countryside. His father stashed a loaded AK-47 beneath his son’s bed so it was never more than an instant away should they need to defend themselves. Now Kuze studies the Israeli combat system Krav Maga in his spare time and spars with his equally intimidating and, he assures me, beautiful girlfriend. Asked if he’s ready to immerse himself in ice water, he replies, “When my father was in the special forces, they tested soldiers’ ability to adapt by making them sit in ice water. If they survived, they passed. Not everyone passed.”

We arrive in the tiny village of Przesieka, where Hof owns an isolated farmhouse he was able to purchase after signing a sponsorship deal with Columbia Sportswear to shill a line of battery-heated jackets in 2011. In the commercials, which were created for TV but thrived on the internet, Hof swims in a frozen lake while giving icy stares to toasty outdoorsmen who use the high-tech gear to warm themselves with the touch of a button. The videos went viral, and commenters compared Hof to Chuck Norris, propelling him to a sort of internet alpha-male celebrity. But the condition of the house confirms that web fame does not necessarily translate to riches. The space is a permanent work in progress, with an assortment of bunk beds and yoga mats. A busted sauna sits next door to its new replacement. The coal furnace doesn’t quite work and spews black smoke through cracks in the floorboards. Most of the floors don’t seem level.

The crumbling building is headquarters for Hof’s growing global presence as a New Age guru and ground zero for the experimental training regimens he’s developing. One of Hof’s first students at the house, Justin Rosales, now 25, flew here from Pennsylvania in 2010 to serve as a guinea pig. “If we want to become strong, passionate and motivated, we have to take on seemingly impossible tasks. Without an open mind, the cold will never be your friend,” Rosales tells me over e-mail. He has written a book with Hof about the experience, called Becoming the Iceman, which is often passed among devotees interested in cultivating superpowers.

I stash what little winter gear I’ve brought beneath a bunk on the second floor and look out the window onto a snowy field that serves as the main training site. Andrew Lescelius, the wiry asthmatic Nebraskan who arrived a week earlier, crosses the field outside clad only in black underwear, stopping to pick up handfuls of snow and rub them over his arms and chest. Steam erupts off his body in great clouds.

Kuze chooses a bunk next to mine and looks eager to get out into the snow. I let him go on his own. I will have plenty of opportunities to be cold when training begins tomorrow.

After a restless night we meet Hof in the yoga studio. He explains that every training program he runs is different, and the method varies depending on the constitution of the group. But no matter how it starts, the building blocks are simple and, he assures us, our progress will be rapid. “This week we will win the war on bacteria!” he proclaims before warning us he will challenge everything we think about the limits of our body.

At one point Hof tells us to shed our clothing and head outside. We round the farmhouse to a small snowy field frequented by deer and the curious gazes of inquisitive neighbors. As we file past, one of them yells something to us in Polish and Hof chuckles. Most people here think he’s crazy, if affable.

It’s the first time in my life I’ve put my feet directly onto snow, and they feel as sensitive as a newly broken tooth. My heart rate jumps. Kuze lets out a gasp and Hof beams a trickster smile. We stand in a circle and take low horse stances.

We try to focus on our foreheads and simply endure the cold, our chests bare to the air. Five minutes is excruciating, but Hof has us stand for six before sending us numbly into the sauna.

But with numb limbs, going from ice to a 100-plus-degree room is a mistake. The body’s natural reaction to cold is self-preservation. To keep the core warm, the muscles that control arteries clench tightly and restrict the flow of blood only to vital areas in a process known as vasoconstriction. This is why frostbite starts in the extremities. The sudden change to heat has the opposite effect. Veins suddenly pop open and send warm blood rushing through cold areas. The pain is even worse than when we were standing in the snow, something I didn’t think possible.

Kuze stretches his feet toward a box of coals and says he may cry. Lescelius clenches his teeth and holds his breath. A side effect of asthma, he tells me, is poor circulation, and the sensation of vasoconstriction is even more painful. “But I like to think of it as lifting weights for the circulatory system,” he says. Hof nods at the statement. After years of exposing himself to the cold, he can consciously restrict the flow of blood in his body and effectively send it to any part he wants.

Although the first day of exercises is painful and exhausting, true to Hof’s word our progress is rapid. The next day we stand in the snow for 15 minutes before the same feeling of panic sets in. In the afternoon we take a brief dip in the basin of an ice-cold waterfall. It is an experience not unlike walking across a bed of hot coals—a trial by fire but with ice. With every attempt, the barriers we’ve built in our heads about the cold seem to recede.

By the fourth day, standing in the snow is barely a challenge. An hour passes by quicker than five minutes had just days earlier. In the evening we sit on snow-covered rocks by a stream until they’re warm, Hof smiling over us.


What we know about how the human body reacts to cold comes mostly from gruesomely accurate studies that emerged from the Dachau death camp. Nazis tracked Jewish prisoners’ core temperatures as they died in ice water. As terrible as they are, these morally compromised studies helped doctors understand how quickly the body loses heat in such conditions. Sitting in 32-degree water, humans begin to feel sluggish after only a minute or two. By 15 minutes most people fall unconscious. They die between 15 and 45 minutes. When the core body temperature falls below 82 degrees, death is almost inevitable. Measured against that data set, Hof seems to perform miracles.

In 2007 at the Feinstein Institute on Long Island, Kenneth Kamler, a world-renowned expedition doctor who has worked on Everest, observed an experiment in which Hof was connected to heart and blood monitors and immersed in ice. At first the experiment hit a major snag. The standard hospital devices that track respiration declared him dead after he’d been in the ice only two minutes. The machine got confused because he didn’t take a breath for more than two minutes and his resting heart rate was a mere 35 beats per minute. He wasn’t dead, though, and Kamler had to disconnect the device to continue. Hof stayed in the ice for 72 minutes. The results were astounding. Hof’s core temperature initially declined a few degrees but then rose again. It was the first scientific validation of Hof’s method. It was becoming clear that Hof could consciously affect his autonomic nervous system to increase his core temperature. “Exactly how you explain it depends on the kind of philosophy you want to believe in,” says Kamler, who references similar feats called tummo performed by Tibetan monks. Ultimately, he says, it boils down to how Hof uses his brain. “The brain uses a lot of energy on higher functions that are not essential to survival. By focusing his mind he can channel that energy to generate body heat,” he speculates.

Interest among scientists snowballed in 2008 just as it had in the mass media more than a decade earlier. At Maastricht University researchers wondered if Hof’s abilities stemmed from a high concentration of mitochondria-rich brown adipose tissue, also known as brown fat. This little-understood tissue can rapidly heat the body when metabolized; it is what allows infants not to succumb to cold in their earliest moments. Usually brown fat mostly disappears by early childhood, but evolutionary biologists believe that early humans may have carried higher concentrations of it to resist extreme environments. The scientists learned that Hof, now 55, had extremely high concentrations—enough to produce five times more energy than the typical 20-year-old—most likely because he repeatedly exposed himself to cold.

Brown fat may be the missing organic structure that separates humans from the natural world. White fat stores caloric energy from food, which the body tends to burn only as a last resort. In fact, it’s difficult to burn the spare tire off your waistline because the body is programmed to store energy: It will burn muscle before it uses white fat to create heat or energy. Brown fat is different. Most people create it automatically when they’re in cold environments—the body detects physical extremes and starts to store mitochondria. The way Hof describes it, when brown fat is activated, the mitochondria enter the bloodstream and metabolize white fat directly to generate heat. Because most people do everything they can to avoid environmental extremes, they never build up brown fat at all. If we lived without clothing, the way our distant ancestors must have, we would have relied on the internal properties of brown fat to keep us alive.

As we sit in the sauna, I ask Hof how someone activates brown fat consciously. Instead of explaining, he tries to demonstrate. He clenches the muscles in his body in sequence, from his rectum to his shoulders, as if pushing something up from below. Then he furrows his brow and squinches down his neck as though trapping that energy in a point that he says is behind his ear. The process turns his skin bright red as if he were catching fire. Suddenly he kicks out his leg, falls against the wall and gasps. “Oh my God,” he says, dazed. In his eagerness to teach, he didn’t calculate the heat of the sauna. He almost blew a fuse. He lurches out of the sauna and rolls in the snow outside. He returns with an embarrassed smirk. “That’s how you do it. But try it only in the cold.”


Hans Spaan, who was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in 2004, credits Hof with saving his life. “With this disease,” he says, “most people have to take more and more drugs just to maintain the same level of mobility and quality of life, and eventually you max out and begin the long decline.” Spaan is trying to manage his drug regime by accompanying it with the breathing technique and ice-cold showers. He tracks his drug use on spreadsheets and claims to be on far fewer drugs now than when he was first diagnosed. He credits Hof with keeping him out of a wheelchair. Although the anecdotal evidence is encouraging, it’s hard to determine how much of Hof’s abilities can be chalked up to the placebo effect. Since Hof claims to be able to control his autonomic nervous system—the system affected by Parkinson’s—it is important to have scientific backing.

Peter Pickkers is just about the last scientist who would be swayed by outlandish claims. An expert on sepsis and infection at Radboud University Medical Center in the Netherlands, he specializes in studies that look at responses of the immune system in humans. In 2010 Hof contacted Pickkers, saying he could suppress or ramp up his immune system at will. The feat is, by definition, almost impossible. But Pickkers, who had watched Hof’s career rise on TV, was curious.

Pickkers devised a test in which he administered endotoxin, a component of E. coli bacteria the body thinks is dangerous but is actually inert. A previous trial Pickkers pioneered proved that 99 percent of healthy people who come in contact with endotoxin react as though they have the flu before the body realizes it has been duped and goes back to normal.

While Hof meditated, Pickkers injected him with the endotoxin. The results were unheard of. “Wim had done things that, if you had asked me prior to the experiment, I would not have thought possible,” Pickkers told me. Whereas almost every other person dosed with endotoxin experienced severe side effects, Hof had nothing more than a minor headache. Blood tests showed he had much higher levels of cortisol—a hormone usually released only during times of extreme stress, sort of like adrenaline—than had been previously recorded. Also, blood drawn while he was meditating remained resistant to endotoxin for six days after it had left his body.

Hof is unambiguous about what he thinks of the results: “If I can show that I can consciously affect my immune system, we will have to rewrite all the medical books.” But Pickkers and much of the rest of the scientific community are more reserved. While the results show an unprecedented response to endotoxin, there is no proof that Hof is anything more than a genetic anomaly. However, the results were promising enough for Pickkers and his colleague Matthijs Kox to commission a second study, this time with Hof guiding a group of college students through the same basic course I took to learn his technique before being injected with endotoxin. If his technique proves to be teachable, then the ground may begin to shift under Pickkers’s feet.

In April 2013, just after I was there, 12 students flew to Poland. Pickkers and Kox remained tight-lipped about the results while the journal article wended its way though the peer-review process, but they’ve issued a press release saying “the trained men produced fewer inflammatory proteins and suffered far less from flu-like symptoms.” Hof is ebullient. In several conversations he tells me that his students were able to master convulsions and fever responses within 15 minutes. Whether he is exaggerating or not remains to be seen, but if the results mirror the 2010 study Pickkers published, Hof will be a certified medical marvel.


All I can definitively report is my experience in Poland. I still have my challenge to complete: Despite my progress, I’m not sure I am up for the grueling bare-chested hike straight up a mountain. Sneˇzˇka Mountain straddles the Polish-Czech border and is battered by icy winds throughout the winter months. At its 5,260-foot summit, frequented mostly by intrepid cross-country skiers who hike up from a ski lift, a lonely observatory records the movements of the stars. Starting at the base of the mountain, Hof, myself and three other disciples begin the arduous climb through two feet of fresh powder. Seconds after we pile out of Hof’s dilapidated Volkswagen van, the cold slices through our winter coats like a knife. At 25 degrees Fahrenheit even modest breezes feel excruciating. In the parking lot, skiers clad head to toe in colorful Gore-Tex ensembles wrestle with their gear and trek slowly to the chairlifts.

Hof leads us to a side trail that snakes through parkland to the summit. Ten minutes up the trail, after our bodies have had time to build some internal heat, we start stripping off layers. Ashley Johnson, a former English hooligan who has found new direction in life doing work around Hof’s house in exchange for lessons, slaps Lescelius and Kuze on the back in camaraderie. Bare to the cold, we stash our clothes in a backpack and crunch forward through powder.

The moment I take off my shirt it begins to make some sense how our primordial ancestors survived. Trudging forward I don’t feel the bite of the cold the way I used to. Whatever heat I build up through exertion seems to stay in my skin as if I were wearing a wet suit. I can feel the sting of cold on my skin, but I focus on the point behind my ears that Hof said would help activate my brown fat and send waves of heat through my body.

Then I try to imitate what I witnessed Hof do in the sauna. With my muscles clenched, mind focused, it isn’t long before I am sweating. A thin steamy mist wafts upward from our group. A skier stops to take pictures. A ski patrolman on a snowmobile stops to see if we are okay. A snowboarder lets out a shocked cry and speeds by. Together we plod forward to the summit.

There is a parallel to walking across a bed of hot coals. The temperature is subservient to the task ahead. Six hours later I am nearing the summit, bare-chested and with my legs caked in snow. I have gone from California palm trees to Poland’s snowy peaks in seven days and feel perfectly warm—hot, even.

The trek takes more than seven hours, and every step upward leaves us more exposed than before. The outside temperature drops to eight degrees. About 300 feet shy of the summit, something changes. My core temperature is fine, but the wind has intensified and the incline has gotten steeper. Every step feels harder than the one before, and I am beginning to tire. We are seven hours into the ascent, and I have given my backpack to the younger, fitter Johnson. I worry what would happen to me if I stopped. Would the cold break through the mental barrier I’ve erected and send me cascading into hypothermia? Fear, more than anything else, keeps me walking. Twenty minutes later I reach the summit. I’m not cold but more tired than I can ever remember being before. After taking a couple of photos we walk into the observatory to warm up.

Just like entering the sauna after standing on ice, the warm air hits me and I feel cold. I shed my mental armor and feel ice leak into my bloodstream. I begin to rely on my environment rather than my mind to keep me warm. I shiver, and then I begin to shake. My teeth clatter. I have never been this cold before. It is an hour until I feel ready to get back on my feet for the climb down the mountain. This time, though, I wear a black peacoat that I brought up in a backpack.

Hof plans to attempt to summit Mount Everest soon. It will be his second time after an earlier, aborted, nearly naked attempt. I ask Hof what he thinks would happen if he finally meets his limits on this climb and joins the hundreds who have died on the mountain. Would his message be lost to time? Would even the modest lessons he has been able to give to his flock mean anything if he dies in a way most people would deem foolish? His face grows dark at the thought. He tells me he might cry. “I must not die,” he says. “I’ve decided.”

Scott Carney (scottcarney.com) is an investigative journalist based in Los Angeles.