Suggestible You: The Curious Science of Your Brain’s Ability to Deceive, Transform, and Heal

215 Pages·2016·1.16 MB·English

by  Erik Vance

ADVANCE PRAISE FOR SUGGESTIBLE YOU
“The placebo eff ect is inescapably real, and it shows us how much we have yet
to understand about the connection between our minds and bodies. In
Suggestible You, Erik Vance has created a fascinating, engaging history of one
of science’s weirdest discoveries—and takes us on a riveting journey into
hypnosis, false memories, and the many other ways our minds can get
manipulated.”
—CARL ZIMMER, author of Parasite Rex
“From Erik Vance’s astonishing personal story to his probing questions about
the hidden powers of the mind, Suggestible You is a triumph. This is popular
science at its best.”
—SETH MNOOKIN, author of The Panic Virus
“Erik Vance is the perfect guide for this stunning exploration of the brain’s
uncanny ability to behave in ways that defy rationality. Raised in a faith-based
tradition and trained in biology, he brings unique insight to his tour of ‘our
malleable minds.’ He’s also terrific company: thoughtful, funny, and filled with
stories that make the science of human fallibility come alive. You’ll have a ball.”
—ROBIN MARANTZ HENIG, science journalist and New York Times
magazine contributing editor “He climbs cliffs until he’s terrified. He lets
scientists shock his fingers. He invites a curse upon his unborn child. Erik
Vance, it seems, will do almost anything to show that we’ll believe almost
anything. I’ll take the bargain. He suff ers, but in this remarkable book, we get a
marvelous tour of humanity’s dangerous but indispensable willingness to
imagine.”
—DAVID DOBBS, author of Reef Madness
“In Suggestible You, author Erik Vance takes the reader on a remarkable
journey, from places haunted by magic to researchers deep in data, as part of an
inquiry into the way our beliefs shape our lives—and our health. The result is a
lyrically told story, full of both compassion and curiosity, and an unusually
insightful portrait of who we are today.”
—DEBORAH BLUM, author of The Poisoner’s Handbook
For Liz
My buddy, my partner in adventure, my unwavering fan.
My rock, my fraggle, my favorite editor.
And, of course, my wife.
CONTENTS
Cover
Advance Praise for Suggestible You
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Introduction: What Do You Expect?
Part One: Inside the Placebo Effect
Chapter One: Placebos, Storytelling, and the Birth of Modern Medicine
Chapter Two: Meet Your Inner Pharmacist
Chapter Three: Hunting the Mysterious Placebo Responder
Part Two: Your Mind’s Parlor Tricks
Chapter Four: The Dark Side of Suggestion
Chapter Five: You Are Getting Sleepy
Chapter Six: Satan Worshippers, Aliens, and Other Memories of Things That
Never Happened
Part Three: Suggestible Us
Chapter Seven: Sex, Drugs, and
Chapter Eight: Harnessing the Power of Expectation
Appendix: Hypnotic Induction Script
Acknowledgments
Sources
About the Author
INTRODUCTION:
WHAT DO YOU EXPECT?
IN 1978, THERE WAS A MINOR EPIDEMIC of Legionnaires’ disease in Southern
California. It was certainly not on the scale of the 1976 outbreak that had killed
34 people and introduced the disease to the world, but it made the news
regularly. Named for its discovery at an American Legion meeting in
Philadelphia, it’s an acute form of bacterial pneumonia that causes fever and
intense coughing that occasionally brings up blood. There’s no vaccine, and it’s
potentially lethal. Among the people watching those frightening broadcasts in
California one spring evening were Sandy and Dee, a young couple who were
practicing Christian Scientists. Their religion taught them that God created all
his children in his own perfect image—and that with prayer, you could heal
yourself, your family, and even people thousands of miles away. But to harness
that ability, you needed the mental discipline to overlook what the rest of the
world was telling you about human disease.
Their religion had served them well until now. The news described a
condition that sounded exactly like what was afflicting their one-and-a-half-
year-old son, who had been looking pale and acting listless. The couple had been
working with a Christian Science practitioner, or healer, who helped them pray
for the child. But it didn’t seem to be having any effect.
Dee, a lifelong Christian Scientist, had never doubted the power of her
religion before. She had seen it heal dozens, maybe hundreds, of people and
thought it was the very best care she could offer her son. Sandy, on the other
hand, was a convert. A former professional baseball player, he had lost his spot
on the Los Angeles Dodgers roster because of a painful shoulder injury that was
miraculously cured six months later when he joined the Christian Science faith.
In many ways, this made him even more devout than his wife was, even more
sure that his religion was the best possible treatment for his baby.
But fear is a powerful thing, especially when it comes to your children. Today
we know that Legionnaires’ disease is spread through the air—often through
contaminated ventilation systems—and we have effective antibiotics for it. But
in 1978, all anyone knew was that it struck without warning and was lethal in
about 15 percent of adult cases. When Dee and Sandy saw the newscast
explaining that a similar disease was infecting scores of people in their area, they
panicked and feared the worst. Christian Scientists believe that fear impedes
one’s ability to heal—and, sure enough, over the course of the next day, the
boy’s condition worsened. One night it looked as though he was passing away in
their arms. His face turned ashen, and his eyes rolled back in his head.
Dee, at her wits’ end, considered for the first time going to a hospital—usually
a last resort used by Christian Scientists only in the case of injuries like broken
bones. For any of us, this might seem like the logical first step—something any
loving parent would be obliged to do. For Dee, it was a frightening prospect, but
she was too terrified to pray effectively and didn’t know what else to do. Unless
you have lived in a community of people who place their lives in the hands of
their faith, it’s hard to understand what it means to break from that guiding
principle, to admit that what you’ve spent your life believing isn’t working. It’s
even harder to understand what happened next.
Dee put her son down, went into the next room, and called her Christian
Science healer yet again. Almost yelling, she gave the woman one last chance to
affirm everything she believed in and had risked her son’s life for. “I don’t know
if this religion works or not—but it damn well better work now!” she said, in a
desperate and profound moment of doubt. “I’m losing my son!”
The practitioner began reassuring Dee, saying, “It doesn’t matter whether this
religion works or not. God loves your child.” Over the next couple of minutes,
everything changed for Dee. She let go of herself and put her trust in God. The
world was transformed from a place where her son was dying and her
community was helpless to save him into a world in which everything was
perfect and God’s love enveloped her family like a warm, comforting blanket.
Dee walked into the next room and saw what most people would describe as a
miracle. Her child was sitting up, happy in his father’s arms, his color returned, a
smile on his face. Over the next few weeks, he seemed healed. The couple kept
him isolated from other children while members of the church came to help care
for the boy. He was happy, and nobody was worried about his having the disease
anymore. Their religion had worked, and their faith had been rewarded.
God, I must have heard this story a thousand times growing up. You see, I was
that dying child. For the first half of my life, the tenets of Christian Science were
my only form of health care. I didn’t visit a doctor’s office until I was 18.
Instead of popping pills or swallowing spoonfuls of bitter tonics, I used the
Bible, the writings of Christian Science, and my own mind to heal myself.
Christian Science is an American religion founded in 1866. Its charismatic
founder, Mary Baker Eddy, claimed to have discovered the true meaning of
Scripture: that all Christians have the ability to heal, just as Jesus did. Roughly
speaking, Christian Scientists believe that all matter—your car, this book, or a
shot of antibiotic—is superseded by a deeper reality reflecting the mind of God.
In that reality, everyone and everything is perfect. Thus a healing comes not by
changing the body but through glimpsing a more perfect, truer version of
yourself.
There are only a few hundred thousand Christian Scientists today, and very
little research exists on their practices. One limited study from 1989 produced by
the church’s home office in Boston attempted to quantify the healings that had
taken place over the preceding 20-plus years. In that (admittedly not objective)
paper, more than 2,000 Christian Scientists claim to have been spontaneously
healed of medically diagnosed conditions across the spectrum: polio, bone
cancer, ruptured appendixes, goiter, crossed eyes. There is even a 1966 story
from South Africa in which a broken bone bulging out from under the skin was
healed over the course of a single day; this one strained credibility, even for an
open-minded guy like me.
You name it, and Christian Scientists claim to have healed it. And they have a
lot of company. The Internet is packed with cases of tumors eradicated by juice
infusions, paralysis healed by the Holy Ghost, warts removed through hypnosis,
and crippling pain erased in a single acupuncture session. Whether it’s a revival
meeting in the Florida Panhandle or a witch doctor in the jungles of eastern
Mexico or some guy in Beijing who knows just the right way to rub your feet in
order to relieve an upset stomach, mystical healing is all around us. When
confronted with healings like this that we don’t understand, most of us seem to
respond with one of two reactions: “There must be forces out there beyond our
comprehension” or the equally vague, but slightly more scientific “The mind is a
powerful thing.”
Both these statements are true. But neither is good enough for me, and