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Archive for June 5th, 2017

Issues relating to isolation and integration could also increase the risk of psychiatric disorders, according to the researchers. Photograph: Tara Moore/Getty Images

At the end of last month a disturbing piece of research was reviewed in the Guardian. It complements the understanding that there are strong links between experiences of trauma and psychosis. The conclusions as stated in the abstract of the Schizophrenia Bulletin paper are:

Elevated psychosis risk in several visible minority groups could not be explained by differences in postmigratory socioeconomic disadvantage. These patterns were observed across rural and urban areas of our catchment, suggesting that elevated psychosis risk for some ethnic minority groups is not a result of selection processes influencing rural-urban living. Timing of exposure to migration during childhood, an important social and neurodevelopmental window, may also elevate risk.

Below is a short extract from the Guardian article: for the full post see link.

Although psychosis is rare, factors including stress related to migration and discrimination could contribute to increased risk, say researchers.

People from ethnic minorities have up to a five times greater risk of psychotic disorders than the white British population, researchers say.

A new study reveals that the trend holds in both urban and rural settings, with first-generation migrants who arrive in the UK in childhood among those at increased risk.

The team behind the study say a number of factors could be at play, including stresses related to the migration process, discrimination and issues related to isolation and integration.

James Kirkbride, a psychiatric epidemiologist from University College London and co-author of the research, described the figures as shocking.

“If this was any other disorder we would be horrified and up in arms and we would be campaigning from a public health perspective on how we could reduce this level of suffering,” he said. “There is a massive health inequality and it hasn’t got much attention.”

While psychosis is rare – rates in England stand at about 30 cases per 100,000 people per year – Kirkbride says more should be done to offer services to those in need and to unpick drivers behind raised risks.

“In the present climate when issues about migration are at the forefront of the public’s mind, people from ethnic minority backgrounds may face additional stresses that could potentially contribute to mental health problems,” he added.

Writing in the journal Schizophrenia Bulletin, Kirkbride and colleagues from the University of Cambridge and a collection of NHS foundation trusts describe how they looked at trends among 687 people in the east of England. All were aged between 16 and 35 years of age, had received a clinical diagnosis of a psychotic disorder, and had not previously had an episode of psychosis.

After taking into account of a host of factors including socioeconomic status, age and sex, the results reveal that compared to the risk of psychotic disorders in the white British population, people of black Caribbean origin had a 4.6 times greater risk. Those of Pakistani or black African origins, or of mixed ethnic backgrounds had risks 2.3 times, 4.1 times, and 1.7 times higher respectively. Non-British white individuals did not have an increased risk of psychotic disorders.

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Georgiana Houghton‘s ‘Glory Be to God’ (image scanned from ‘Spirit Drawings’ – the Courtauld Gallery)

Likewise, reflect upon the perfection of man’s creation, and that all these planes and states are folded up and hidden away within him.

Dost thou reckon thyself only a puny form
When within thee the universe is folded?

Then we must labor to destroy the animal condition, till the meaning of humanity shall come to light.

(Bahá’u’lláh in the Seven Valleys – page 34)

The Background

Everyday, soon after I wake, I read passages from the Bahá’í Writings. At present I am fixated on the Seven Valleys, which I have recently read through twice in succession. Over the last few days my focus has narrowed to a short sequence of paragraphs. I’m not entirely sure why, although part of the reason is clearly because an aspect of their message encourages me to hold onto my abiding sense of the limitations of our materialistic worldview in the West.

Bahá’u’lláh, in his letter to a respected Sufi referring to such experiences as dreams that foretold the future, wrote (page 33):

God, the Exalted, hath placed these signs in men, to the end that philosophers may not deny the mysteries of the life beyond nor belittle that which hath been promised them. For some hold to reason and deny whatever the reason comprehendeth not . . . .

By philosophers He means materialistic thinkers such as most scientists.

We live in a time when statements about a transcendent reality are regarded not just with a rational scepticism which is open to evidence, but with an absolute and irrational belief which regards examining the evidence as a complete waste of time.

You might think that evidence of a material kind would be the most compelling.

Certainly Fontana shares that view as he explains in his masterly survey of the evidence in Is There an Afterlife? In his list of reasons why physical mediumship is worth investigating (page 245) he states:

The second reason why physical mediumship remains important is that, unlike mental mediumship, the phenomena which they manifest are purely objective.

However, it seems to attract even more withering dismissal than subtler experiences, possibly because giving it even a nanosecond’s serious consideration would be far too threatening.

Fontana conveys a sense of this kind of default dismissal ending with a measured response to it. For example, after examining the work of Sir William Crookes, one of the 19th century investigators of Daniel Dunglas Home amongst other mediums, he responds to the 20th century critics who dismiss Home out of hand (page 257):

I doubt very much if the critics concerned read the work of . . . . Crookes on the subject in any detail or with any care. If they did so, they could hardly fail to be aware that . . . . Crookes had little need of modern infrared cameras when many of the phenomena were produced in good light, had little cause to wire the medium up to modern electrical circuits and circuit breakers when the phenomena occurred on the opposite side of the room from him, and had little reason to suspect the kind of elaborate modern stage props and hidden accomplices necessary for levitating the medium nearly to ceiling level when these levitations occurred on the home territory of Crookes . . . rather than in Home’s lodgings. . . . .

The best way of demonstrating [trickery’s] existence would be for critics to duplicate the phenomena under the conditions described by Crookes. To my knowledge no attempt has yet been made to do this.

Crookes’ exasperation was only too obvious and understandable as well (page 253):

‘Will not my critics give me credit for the possession of some amount of common sense?’ He also asked reasonably why they could not ‘imagine the obvious precautions, which occur to them as soon as they sit down to pick holes in my experiments, are not unlikely to have also occurred to me in the course of prolonged and patient investigations?’

From a Bahá’í point of view anecdotal examples of possibly miraculous events are not meant to be what determines whether we choose to follow this path or not. That has to be based on a careful investigation of the teachings of the Bahá’í Faith.

The Kinneys

The Boots

However, as I am arguing that materialists should take paradigm-threatening material phenomena more seriously I want to start with one such example from the Bahá’í literature before examining briefly evidence which has been more systematically gathered.

This story is included in a collection of stories about ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in their Midst by Earl Redman (pages 269-270):

It was at the home of the Kinneys that Abdu’l-Baha stayed the second time he came to New York and it was from this home that He left to return to Haifa. The day before He was to take ship to leave He asked Mr. Kinney if there was something amongst His belongings that He might offer as a gift of farewell. At first, Mr. Kinney was reluctant to choose, but finally he admitted that well, might he be given a pair of Abdu’l-Baha’s boots? Those boots that had sheltered the feet that walked with such serene certainty upon the Path of God? Mr. Kinney would cherish these above all else.

So, with smiling love, Abdu’l-Baha gave a pair of His boots to Edward Kinney. Reverently and joyfully, Mr. Kinney laid them in a bureau drawer in his bedroom, carefully wrapped in a nest of tissue paper. Very rarely – since the boots were such an intimate and precious thing, were they shown to anyone though Mr. Kinney touched them frequently as he prayed.

Then one day, he did wish to show them to someone. He went to the bureau, pulled out the drawer – and the boots were gone – completely gone. No sign of them in the tissue paper, no sign of them in any other drawer, no sign of them in any part of the room which was searched carefully. There simply were no boots anywhere.

So Dad Kinney (he became ‘Dad to all the hundreds who loved him) began to pray and he prayed, shaken, from the depths of his troubled soul. Why had the beloved boots been taken from him? Where had they gone? What could have happened? Was he, had he become – unworthy to possess them? And, at last, he knew this was it. He was no longer worthy to hold the precious boots. Then why was he no longer worthy? What had he done between the time when he had last held the boots in his hands and the moment when he had discovered their absence?

It had been, he estimated, some two, possibly three weeks. So in deepest meditation, he went back, day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment over this period. He remembered his actions; he analyzed his motives; he reviewed his thoughts. And suddenly, in a blaze of illumination, he knew what it was. Deeply selfish materialism; clouded hypocritical motives; unjust actions. He had been guilty of all these. But he had deluded himself by calling them such fair and pretty names. No wonder the boots had been taken away. In all justice he had proved himself in no way worthy to hold such treasure. Humbled and ashamed, he prayed abjectly for forgiveness – and then, mournfully, he went to the bureau drawer – just to touch the tissue paper that once had protected the boots. And lo! the boots had returned. They were there, real and tangible; the leather soft beneath his fingertips, the well-worn soles smooth to his touch. They were there, but the warning was never forgotten – the lesson was well learned.

I have no reason to doubt the veracity of this story. On its own this would obviously do little if anything to dent the disbelief of a sceptic, and I can quite understand why.

The Scole Group

However, there are other examples in the paranormal literature where careful constraints have been put in place to ensure that neither fraud nor wishful thinking could possibly play a part in the observed effects – at least as far as it is humanly possibly to eliminate such flaws. My hope is that before dismissing the paranormal as a figment of gullible imaginations, sceptics would take the time carefully to examine the evidence adduced in such books as Fontana’s on the afterlife and Leslie Kean’s on Surviving Death, before leaping gungho to their materialistic conclusions.

Take this example from Fontana where, as he gives an account of his own rigourously conducted investigations of the Scole Group phenomena, he highlights the newspaper apport as of particular significance (pages 335-336):

Other materialisations took the form of apports, though I was only present on one occasion when an apport arrived. Emily Bradshaw had jokingly bet Montague Keen half a crown (an old coin no longer used) over some factual matter on which they have disagreed, and when she was proved wrong (much to Montague’s triumphant amusement) we heard something clatter onto the floor. After the séance was over Montague found it was the promised half crown. The Scole Group had a wide range of even more impressive objects that had apparently arrived during their own private séances (which they continued to hold throughout the two years of our investigation). One of the most notable of these was a copy of the Daily Mail newspaper of April 1, 1944 containing an account of the celebrated trial of medium Helen Duncan. The newspaper was in pristine condition, the paper on which it was printed was as white as if it had been printed only that day. Our supposition was that it might be a modern facsimile edition of the kind that can be bought from some newspaper publishers. However, analysis of the paper and the newsprint by the prestigious Print Industry Research Association (PRIA), carried out at the request of Montague Keen and handled by him throughout, revealed that this supposition was incorrect. The PRIA confirmed that far from being modern, the newspaper was in fact printed by the old-fashioned letterpress method in use in 1944, and that the paper on which it was printed dated from the same era. The PRIA expressed itself baffled by the newspaper’s perfect condition. Dating from 1944, it should have shown the ageing and yellowing inevitable in a newspaper of that age. Unless an explanation can be found, the newspaper may therefore be what is known by psychical researchers as a PPO (a Permanent Paranormal Object – an object apparently produced or modified paranormally that remains with us as a subject for study), and thus represents one of the Holy Grail of psychical research.

Why does it matter?

Well, in my view, for the reasons I explained at some length to a young and deeply thoughtful Colombian student on a crowded train back to Hereford the other day. We sat in a four-seater stall animatedly talking diagonally across the other two occupants who had perhaps sensibly decided to leave us to it.

‘If we are to address the massive challenges facing us in our increasingly global so-called civilisation,’ I suggested, ‘we need a meaning system that will motivate us to work with unremitting determination over many decades, centuries even, in the face of innumerable obstacles, if we are to resolve them.’

Interestingly, the student did not accept the label ‘humanist’ to describe his more sceptical position. He admitted he had been attracted to that approach, but now felt it placed us too much at the centre stage. Some better way of describing his perspective was needed but he didn’t have one.

As I have argued elsewhere on this blog, simply believing we matter, or our children matter, or even the planet matters, may not be enough. We need to feel empowered by something beyond material means, in my view. A sense of a spiritual dimension is not only necessary if we are to care enough about others because of a sense of interconnectedness, but is also crucial if we are to feel ourselves capable of doing anything remotely effective over such testing spans of time.

A deep sense of our interconnectedness would make it harder for anyone to harm another living being or the planet upon which our lives depend. By harming others we would know we are also harming ourselves. A sense that there are powers greater than ourselves ready to aid us as we strive to heal this breaking world would lift us to higher levels of sustained effort.

I pulled Fontana’s book out of my bag and showed it him and said, ‘People need to look carefully at this evidence before deciding they don’t accept it. It matters. Without the soul and its transcendent connections, evidence supporting which he investigates thoroughly, we will never lift ourselves to the necessary level of activity for the required amount of time.’

He scanned the covers of the book briefly.

‘So, does he believe there is an afterlife?’ he asked, handing it back to me.

‘He doesn’t feel the paranormal evidence can absolutely prove it, but he does believe that on balance it is the more likely possibility.’

At that point the loud speaker announced the train was arriving at my station and I said goodbye as I scrambled my things together.

Just as so often with this blog, I’ll never know how far my words shifted his thinking, if at all.

I didn’t have time to read him Fontana’s closing words before I got off the train of thought (page 469):

Ultimately our acceptance of the reality of survival may not come solely from the evidence but from our personal experience and from some inner, intuitive certainty about our real nature. We are who we are, and at some deep level within ourselves we may be the answer to our own questions.  If your answer is that you are more than a biological accident whose ultimately meaningless life is bounded by the cradle and the grave, then I have to say I agree with you.

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