Bamboozled

“One of the saddest lessons of history is this: If we’ve been bamboozled long enough, we tend to reject any evidence of the bamboozle. We’re no longer interested in finding out the truth. The bamboozle has captured us. It’s simply too painful to acknowledge, even to ourselves, that we’ve been taken. Once you give a charlatan power over you, you almost never get it back.” Carl Sagan, The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark

In the middle of the night in 1968 in Oakland California, Bob Hoffman was awakened from a deep sleep by the discontented ghost of his former shrink, Siegfried Fisher. Dr. Fisher, as Hoffman always called him, stood at the end of his bed and revealed to him a key piece of psychological insight that had eluded his mentor, Sigmund Freud and the entire Viennese school: “Everyone is guilty and no one to blame.”

Thus was born the notorious concept of Negative Love and the "world famous" Fisher-Hoffman Process of Psychic Therapy; both have the dubious markings of revealed Truth, and Hoffman, the awakened Teacher—literally.

I listened to Hoffman’s psychic awakening tale many times, and although the basic outline never changed, I did manage to fill in some of the lacunae over my long association with him. For example, there is a lie embedded in the narrative—he confessed that he had been Fisher’s patient and not an old family friend or acquaintance from shul. That misinformation had been manufactured for marketing purposes, and Hoffman was a born salesman. But it never occurred to me to ask how his wife reacted to the whole affair. I think that they were still married at the time, but I don’t want to make any factual assertions without some evidence so I can’t say if they shared a bed, and I don’t want to spoil the party with more misinformation. Did she even wake up? 

So how did a Jewish tailor with barely a high school education become a healer, a channel for this occult insight coupled with powerful results of psychological investigation? Answer: the Spiritualist Church and, if you believe the proponents of the Hoffman Process enterprise, the gifts of a highly advanced, and compassionate, “intuitive,” the new moniker that has become the cover for knowledge that mysteriously surpasses the hard earned therapeutic work of professional psychology. 

I chronicled as accurately as I could the creation of the “Process” as a psychological tool in “The Ontological Odd Couple—The Origins of the Hoffman Process,” and I tried to give everyone I interviewed a fair hearing. At the time I imagined that I could resolve my long standing qualms about Hoffman and his influence in my life by simply getting to the facts, but in fact it only aggravated my personal pain. 

When my friend Stan Stefancic cautioned, “Remember that there's a lot of Claudio in the Process,” I thought long and hard to determine if Naranjo’s input was enough of a justification to accept Hoffman’s preposterous story. In a long rambling piece, Bob Hoffman, The First Encounter, I tried to understand why Naranjo took Hoffman to be some kind of modern day shaman, and supported his work—I will not deny that Claudio did support Hoffman and tried to plant some professional practices in the Process. But it was a relationship fraught with jealousy on Hoffman’s part as well as a good deal of passive aggressive behavior all the while seeking Naranjo’s imprimatur. I asked myself the question, why do intelligent people believe nonsense, but again couldn't really find a good answer nor in any way understand Claudio's infatuation with Hoffman.

 

To complicate the investigation, as if it were not already cloudy enough, Hoffman was a sexual predator. I had first hand experience, and the effects of his abuse have lingered for decades. I tried to exorcise that demon by writing what became a long series of posts on my blog, beginning with Bob Hoffman—#GayMeToo. If the criteria for resolution is that I can forgive and forget, it has not been satisfied. At 77 I am resigned that his selfish and unethical behavior will be a trauma that I will carry for the rest of my life. I have given up looking for some reason why it happened. It makes no difference to me that he was a closeted homophobic queer man, and that it was a severe impediment to his happiness. It was. Yes, everyone is guilty but I will continue to blame him. I have also given up trying to see some “wounded healer” motivation as a factor in his psychic therapy.  What’s the word? Bunk, as in complete nonsense.

So how was I bamboozled? When I read Henry Miller’s account of his experience just looking at a photograph of Madame Blavatsky, I understood him completely. Miller writes: “Now I don’t know if that had anything to do with what happened next, but I had a flash, I came to the realization that I was responsible for my whole life, whatever had happened. I used to blame my family, society, my wife . . . and that day I saw so clearly that I had nobody to blame but myself. I put everything on my own shoulders and I felt so relieved: Now I’m free, no one else is responsible. And that was a kind of awakening, in a way.”

In October of 1973 I had such an awakening over several weeks of psychological investigation in Claudio Naranjo’s SAT group. It changed my life, and I will be forever grateful to Claudio for providing the platform for the experience. But I had the bad luck to have had Bob Hoffman standing in the room shouting nonsense. That was almost 50 years ago. I gave the charlatan power over me, but damn it, I’ve taken it back. 

To the ghost of Bob Hoffman, if you’re still lingering around, there’s an open invitation to state your side of the story at the foot of my bed in my flat in the Himalyan foothills. It’s 12 and half hours ahead of Oakland time, but if you can’t figure that out, Google has a nifty world clock application. 

The Death of the Public Intellectual

Ideas have the power to change minds or reinforce tightly held beliefs and prejudices. Ideas can capture the public’s imagination--I’m not talking about soundbites or the flagrant manipulation of sentiment by appealing to racism, fear or hysteria of one brand or another. At the risk of sounding overblown or pretentious, I will put forward a few ideas that might have legs: democracy and fascism, climate responsibility, the ethical life, the role of imagination and spirituality. These topics interest me, and I would hope that joining in an intellectual conversation, sharing and discussing our ideas in a civil way, might help us find a way forward.

But sadly in today’s information environment, this kind of conversation is on life support. Instead of a real conversation, we are reduced to sloganeering and “bothsidesism” that includes vile insults as well as calls for execution. Will it be by firing squad, or maybe just shot with an AK 47 and unrecognizably mutilated?

Someone posted on my Twitter account a clip of an animated Marjorie Taylor Green ranting incoherently about fake meat Bill Gates grew in a "peach tree dish." Surely a delicacy that will add to the wonders of Georgia. The woman is totally unhinged, yet she gets lots of coverage, and this is exactly what she wants, what the Right wants, and what her donors demand. This is the script: monopolize our attention, clog the airtime, and then move ahead with the other agenda, and we're not talking QAnon or some other nonsense. It doesn't matter whether MTG is an idiot or an Oxonian. She's just a pawn. Their Queen is about to checkmate our democracy.

If you did a survey--now at this moment, not yesterday before the Peach Tree idiocy--you’d find more respondents believe that Bill Gates is experimenting with synthetic meat and that it's finding its way to your neighborhood butcher without proper labeling. I’ll put money on it.

In the process, MTG has also heaped more distrust on the FDA and the entire expert class of technocrats who are ruining America. She’s also created an atmosphere where people who have done good work, gone to college and gained some standing in their communities for careful thought, attention to science and language are pilloried. Of course you don’t have to know a damn thing about scientific experiments to know that we’re being poisoned by fake meat. Actually the less you know, the more credible you are. There's not much of an audience for a man or woman who actually knows something about the real poisons that can infect the food chain. They’re just boring.

Who qualifies as a public intellectual and what is their role? Narrowly defined, they would be an academic, philosopher, economist, or scientist who devotes some of their time commenting on public issues, and, I would venture, subjects that a large number of people find interesting. In science both Neil deGrasse and Steven Hawkins fit the bill. The late Milton Friedman for all his faults would have to be included, at least as testimony that his or her opinions don’t have to be as solid as Euclidean geometry.

Who are the current crop of public intellectuals? In America, with less reverence for academia, Dan Rather comes to mind, but there are no philosophers such as Albert Camus or Bertrand Russell.. Rachel Maddow gets high marks; though she’s an Oxonian, Google calls her a television presenter. John Oliver and Steve Colbert are very bright, and in their own quirky way provide sharp commentary. Charlie Rose was in the running until he demonstrated that he'd disconnected his head from his penis. Susan Sontag and Gore Vidal are no longer with us. Thomas Friedman tries. No one today commands the respect of an Edward R. Murrow, but there must be people who could assume that role, yet as I survey the Op Ed page across America, brilliant voices do not speak out clearly and strongly for fear of getting mowed down.

We've always had crazies, even in very powerful positions. Sometimes the powerful maniacs have kept a low profile, or maybe they just didn’t stop taking their meds. But now after Trump in this era of Fox news, the Margorie Green’s of the airwaves flaunt their stupidity because the media will lap it up, and that’s key.

When I lived in the Upper West Side, an older woman installed herself every day on one of the benches set on Broadway's median divide, and spent her day screaming at the traffic. None of it made much sense, a 70’s version of Fake Meat and Peach Tree Dishes. But, my point--no one paid her any attention. If MTG were shouting her nonsense from the same bench, they'd have to close Broadway to make room for the TV crews.

The woman whom I used to see at 102nd Street has now been replaced by a silent public monument. She didn’t make the cut. Dan Rather has 2.5 million followers on Twitter. MTG has almost 900,000. Still behind but her brand of insanity is getting exposure. Lauren Boebert has 1.3 million! Watch out Dan. They’re coming after you.

If you can't shut her up, stop paying attention, stop giving her undue attention. Just stop it.






*Daniel Drezne made these nominations:

1) Ta-Nehisi Coates: Any book or long-form essay of his becomes the topic of conversation among elites. That’s influence.

2) Masha Gessen: I have found her thoughts about the Age of Trump, and the Age of Hysteria surrounding Trump, to be invaluable. She might even be right about Trump acting more like a teenager than a toddler.

3) Francis Fukuyama: An awful lot of people would have a hard time repeating something like “The End of History,” which holds up better than you think. Fukuyama’s latest work on political decay, however, has proven to be both prescient and vital.

4) Ron Chernow: I suspect some might not think of Chernow as an intellectual, to which I would respond by noting that Chernow’s biographies lead to reinterpretations of American history. If nothing else, reading Grant will cause multiple generations to rethink what we were taught about Grant — and Robert E. Lee — when we were kids. Since the Civil War seems to still play a role in current political life, that is no mean achievement.

5) David Autor: The hardest-working labor economist in the profession, and probably the least well-known name on this list. His research into the effects of technological change and globalization on the American worker guides much of the conversation on these topics in the current moment.

Remembering Harvey on his birthday!

Originally posted on August 12, 2009; reposted on July 13, 2018

November 27, 2008 was the 30th anniversary of the murders of Harvey Milk and George Moscone in San Francisco’s City Hall. Today, August 12th 2009, President Obama honored Harvey posthumously with the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

"He would become after several attempts one of the first openly gay Americans elected to public office. And his message of hope, hope unashamed, hope unafraid could never be silenced," said President Barack Obama. Thank you, Mr. President.

Robert Aitken once said to me, “We don’t realize that we’re making history while we’re living it.” Yesterday I had a long conversation with a young gay man from Pakistan. I was surprised that he knew so much about Harvey. He hadn’t even been born when Harvey was killed, but he had so many questions. He grew up with hope. Harvey you did good.

Here’s something I wrote 8 years ago.

Remembering Harvey!

If Harvey were alive today, he would only be 78. Though he didn’t live to see much real effect of the gay revolution, if he were still alive he’d be thrilled to see the massive demonstrations across the country protesting the passage of Proposition 8 here in California. He’d also be raising hell, tempering passions, and organizing a skillful, resolute opposition to the religious faction that opposes the rights of gay, lesbian, bi-sexual and transgender people.

I met Harvey face to face many times, but I don’t know if I really registered in his world. That doesn't matter much. I liked him, and supported him in every election—among gay men he was not universally popular—yet I didn’t get as deeply involved in politics as I did after his assassination. In the early 70’s I wasn’t totally out. This middle class kid was not entirely comfortable in the Castro, but I knew that it was as close to gay heaven as I would ever get, and I was having a great time.

Rick Audet, San Francisco, USA

Harvey’s desk in the camera shop was in such perpetual disarray that you might have wondered how he could track his customers’ film, but he never lost any of mine. I would sit on the famous beat-up red couch while we did business and then was invited to stay for as long as I wanted. I always felt welcomed and, when I spoke, listened to.

During those times I mostly sat and listened. He did love to talk, and I sometimes had a hard time following his conversation. In the course of an hour, as customers, political friends, kids from the street, other Castro merchants came and went, he might talk about the flood of gay kids looking for work, experimenting sexually, VD, pumping up rents, leaving litter (and doggie poop!) in the gutter, upsetting the old line merchants, and scaring the widows who still lived in the neighborhood. 

I remember one afternoon very well. Three older, well dressed Irish ladies came in to complain, and ask Harvey to do something—his influence was already established—about what they considered the open sexuality of their new neighbors (I’d even say provocative judging the Castro of the ‘70’s by today’s standards). Worked out guys cruised shirtless on the corner of 18th and Castro in front of the old Hibernia Bank, known as Hibernia Beach, and the women thought it was, well, just too much. Harvey was masterful, listening carefully and answering every question honestly, but he didn't give an inch. The women might have left with some understanding of their new neighbors though not completely mollified.

He could laugh at any topic or take it with complete, serious concern depending on his audience. I always had a sense that he was probing for the deeply felt needs of the neighbors who ultimately became his constituents. When anyone asked him a question, that person became his total focus. It was clear that he had thought long and hard about the issues, and he always linked your concern to the general good. He was a real leader, crafting solutions while measuring the complexities and the barriers to full participation and acceptance in all levels of society.

But no matter how far ranging his conversations, he never lost sight of his primary focus: that gay men and women were entitled to equal rights without having to masquerade or make deals that would push us back in the closet. Though many talented gay men and women have followed him in San Francisco politics, I don’t think it was martyrdom that set the bar so high. He was just a born politician and became a true master in a very short time. 

On the marquee of the Castro Theater where the movie Milk opened last November 26th, there was the image of a political button: “Never Blend In.” I don’t remember if I ever heard Harvey say those words, but I do know that he embodied the openness about your gay lives they express. And it was the reason why many gay men didn’t much like him; they truly believed that “blending in” was the only strategy that would allow them to lead the kind of lives they wanted for themselves. [For a very thorough treatment of “blending in” and how it affects our rights as gay men and lesbians, I recommend, Covering: The Hidden Assault on Our Civil Rights by Kenji Yoshino]

Today is a good day to remind ourselves of what Harvey taught with his life: Never give in. Never think that you have to be other than you are! Keep up the fight. The only thing you have to lose is your humanity.

Occam's razor and the debate about condoms in Africa

“Keep your eye on the ball.”
Originally posted 13th December 2009

Occam's razor and the debate about condoms in Africa. A case for the ethical use of condoms to combat the spread of HIV/AIDS

In 2009 Pope Benedict made some remarks on his first visit to Africa that outraged health agencies trying to halt the spread of HIV and Aids. “. . . [S]peaking to journalists on his flight, he said 'the condition was a tragedy that cannot be overcome by money alone, that cannot be overcome through the distribution of condoms, which even aggravates the problems.’" (The Guardian 17 Mar 2009)

The passage of time has allowed human feelings to subside, mine included, I suppose, if I discount those who died because of the pope’s pontifical pronouncements. However, something might still be learned from the exchange. Here is an analogy that I hope brings home some of the contending impulses that get in the way of thought and action.

Fire at Samuel Wesley's House

Imagine that you are just walking along, minding your own business, and suddenly you notice a crowd of gawkers around a huge building that is being engulfed by flames. All of us would agree that the most humane response would be to call the fire department and help get those in harm’s way to safety as quickly as possible with the least risk to yourself and anyone else close to the flames.

But when you begin to take any action – shout to people in the building so that they might be able to find a way out, ring the fire alarm, grab a bucket – various bystanders try to stop you.

One group shouts that one floor of the building has been taken over by crack heads and that it’s better to let them burn than possibly influence their kids, and turn them towards the path to addiction.

Some preachers declaim that prostitutes live in part of the building and they spread venereal disease and, besides, the injunction in their holy books says that they should be punished by death. The fire itself is their god’s wrath.

Another man says that his wife is on one of the upper floors, but that she has been unfaithful. It makes no difference to him whether she lives or dies. He is cheered on by a larger group of men who do not believe that men should put themselves in danger trying to rescue any women.

A group of women blockade any help because their husbands are in the building. Each and everyone of the men is HIV infected. They say that the fire is the hand of God saving them from certain infection.

Some priests claim certain knowledge that the fire was set by an arsonist doing either God’s or the devil’s work. They shout that the only possible solution is to avoid fires in the first place, that it’s immoral to intervene in a situation where the laws of nature have been violated, and that dousing the flames with water will not work in cases like this anyway.

A group of social workers stand to one side shaking their heads. They are not without compassion, but they say they are helpless. And besides, this situation could have been avoided entirely if the basic needs of the folks in the burning building had been addressed earlier, if they had been educated, fed, trained in fire prevention, and given classes in self esteem.

Meanwhile the fire engulfs the building floor after floor. More and more people die. The professional firefighters cannot do what they know how to do--suppress flames with water or chemicals. They can handle catastrophic fires and reduce the loss of human life. But they cannot do their job.

Each group has seemingly sound reasons (or justifications) for blocking any intervention by the firefighters. One points to tons of studies that allegedly prove that proximity to drug addicts increases the risk of addiction. The group that is content to let prostitutes die shouts age-old taboos about sex and virginity to justify themselves. The man whose unfaithful wife is going to be burned feels justified because his honor will be satisfied. The women whose husbands are HIV infected feel that finally nature has set about to reset the balance of power between the sexes. The priests use myth about being possessed by the devil to justify their claim that water will not put out these flames. The social workers feel that their profession might finally be recognized for the possible benefit for all mankind when finally the fire has taken its toll and they can sift through the ashes.

We cannot allow considerations from other disciplines, practices, myths, cultures, religions, or magic to cloud the thread of the argument. Promoting the use of condoms is an ethical and necessary step towards preventing the spread of HIV, and that the conversation about the use of condoms to stem the spread of HIV in Africa has to be kept simple and direct. Only unencumbered language will allow us to arrive at an effective strategy to stop AIDS. That has to be the goal – reduce the rate of HIV infection among poorer African populations.

Here is a modern gloss of Occam’s razor: any good baseball coach teaches young players to keep their eye on the ball. It is that simple – there is only the ball flying through space, only you with a bat, or your glove, can stop its trajectory. When you hear people screaming at you from the stands, “if you catch it, you’ll be no better than the devil, you’ll go to hell, there’s a spell on that ball, it carries drug addiction and disease,” what do you do? Eliminate the noise as best you can.

Occam’s Razor: entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem, "entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity." It is also expressed this way: Numquam ponenda est pluralitas sine necessitate, "Plurality ought never be posited without necessity".

HIV/AIDS is a medical problem. Whatever else should be handled separately.