It's a Secret.....

All seven of my regular readers know my attitude to Pseudoscience. Let me begin with a definition. A thorough understanding of what we are considering here is of prime importance for the following discourse: pseudoscience is a system of theories, assumptions, and methods erroneously regarded as scientific. The scales now fall from our eyes, giving us clarity and enlightenment.

The Secret, by Rhonda Byrnes, was published in 2006. The tome belongs to the Self-Help genre, a large and diverse selection of books devoted to edifying all who partake. Many of these books linger unread and unpurchased by the public, destined for a short publishing run and subsequent oblivion. However, this was not the case with The Secret, as the book struck a chord with the public and ultimately sold 35,000,000 copies. My reader will now be all agog. What is the 'Secret' that so many crave? Surely, there must be ancient wisdom therein. Perhaps arcane knowledge hidden for millennia only to be released to a select 35 million.

Dear Flaxen, I beseech you to release the genie of ultimate insight to the chosen elect burdened with the temerity to follow this blog. This principle should be available to this sacred band of folk so they may live their lives to the limit of their potential, fully encompassed by its esoteric doctrine. 

Well, gentle reader, you are in the right place, for I'm about to reveal the book's recondite and abstruse (this is not a spelling mistake) secrets.....

The Secret by Rhonda Byrnes: A precis by the astute Flaxen Saxon, sometime resident of Tipton and responsible ferret wobbler.

Stage 1 Inspiration

Rhonda was beset by life's tribulations. Her father had just died, and work was becoming intolerable. Just as life's travails reached a crescendo, she was handed a 100-year-old book resplendent with archaic lore containing fragments and hints of the Secret. Rhonda began a search for further insight. In a vision, she was inspired to move to the US, where the 52 teachers of the Secret lived. What followed was the book.

Stage 2 Book's Content

The Secret is The Law of Attraction. If you earnestly believe you are about to achieve a goal or need, it will manifest. There is mention of cosmic and biological frequencies aligning to facilitate your desires. Magnetic attractive resonances and vibrations must coincide for the technique to work. The Law of Attraction works best by visualising your wants and desires. Also, it is recommended that you act as though you have already received your gift. While waiting for your million dollars to arrive by 'vibration post', go forth and buy a new Porsche. The rest of the book is fluff wrapped within a narrative.

Commentary

Gentle reader, you are now the recipient of ultimate Ancient Wisdom. Use your newfound gift/grift wisely and for the good of mankind.

What are to make of this mixture? There is nothing new here. The concept underlying the Law of Attraction and Manifestation has been considered for millennia. Ancient Greek philosophers were undoubtedly aware of this principle. Plato's concept of Forms idealised the perfect blueprints for everything material, organic, and inorganic. This quasi-real mindscape could be visualised to influence conscious reality.

In proto-modern times (the 19th and early 20th centuries), there was an upsurge of interest in the supernatural and psychics, and their ilk flourished, akimbo. It was a fertile time for such speculation. Rhonda became enamoured by Wallace Wattles' 1910 book, The Science of Getting Rich. This book opened the sacred gate to true enlightenment and introduced Rhonda to the Law of Attraction. Clearly, Rhonda craved much gelt because she obtained sumptuous revenue from 35 million copies of The Secret.   

No doubt the general public has a taste for this sort of thing. Everyone wants health and wealth; however, the means to these ideals in life are difficult to achieve, if not impossible. If only there was a cheat code, a shortcut to obtain all this good stuff without putting forth effort. It is an attractive allure that defies reality. The world is simply not built that way. Sprinkle the 'mechanism' with pseudoscientific babble and add a pinch of lost ancient wisdom, lore, and Bobs, your mother's brother. A gossamer panacea for all that ails us. With all that said, the placebo effect is a verified phenomenon demonstrated numerous times in clinical trials and elsewhere. A positive mindset can have beneficial effects; conversely, a negative attitude can have a baleful impact on the body (nocebo effect- placebo's evil twin). However, the placebo effect will not bring wealth unless it acts as a motivator for action. Sitting in a chair straining and projecting a 'Positive Frequency' supposedly in tune with wealth acquisition will not generate riches; more likely, piles will descend in painful abundance. Nor will positive thoughts, as a sole remedy, cure cancer. 

The book was a roaring success. Indeed, if it worked once, it will work again. Thus, 'rinse and repeat'. In 2010, Rhonda authored 'The Power', 'The Magic' in 2012, 'Hero' in 2013, and so on... Undoubtedly, Rhonda has tapped into a rich vein. The fact that these books and similar are able to garner revenue is a doleful reflection on the current state of educational attainment, particularly the lack of critical analysis and thinking in the West. 

Yes, Rhonda has uncovered the Secret of abundant and sumptuous wealth, but only for herself and for her publisher. 

   

Tales From The Lab, Part I

Definition of a Lab Tech: A Stool sitting on a Stool analysing a Stool

Many years ago, before I decided to study at university, I worked as a trainee technician in a diagnostic biochemistry lab. This was during the 1970s when you could gain a responsible position without a degree. My entry qualifications at the time were a modest 7 CSEs and 5 O'levels (GCEs)—the sort of qualifications that you get at 16. After gaining the position, I attended day-release college to obtain the relevant technical qualifications (ONC and HNC). It was a challenging series of courses spread over 5 years. College attendance was from 9am to 9pm, and once the exams were passed, you were eligible to enrol as a registered basic grade technician. Even as an 'apprentice', I received a decent salary plus additional money for out-of-hours on-call work. As can be imagined, I was young and stupid and spent much of my money on motorbikes, women, and beer- at least I didn't waste it. Regardless of the obstacles put forth by my stupidity, I eventually managed to satisfy the requirements and became fully qualified. Enough introduction.

On this particular day, I was busily analysing faecal samples from patients with gut disease. The analysis was primarily concerned with measuring fat content. I'm sure there are more sophisticated tests available today that don't involve delving unto the murky depths of someone's shit, but this was the mid-70s. Now, it could be thought by many that this job was rather unpleasant. And indeed, the smell was something to behold. That said, this was an analytical duty that I enjoyed performing for several reasons. First, most of my responsibilities in the lab involved working with autoanalysers. Blood samples from patients were transferred to the analyser's carousel, and I ensured that the reagent bottles contained sufficient chemicals. Once satisfied that all was good, a button was pressed. Later, the results were read off a graph, and that was that. I found the whole process tedious and unfulfilling. The testing of faeces was wholly different as the processes involved were not amenable to automatic analysis. Part of the process involved placing the faecal matter in retorts with a caustic chemical and subjecting the sample to reflux. The resulting liquor was then manually titrated using a burette. This was real chemistry involving several manual steps culminating in a calculation. 

Before all the interesting stuff could be performed, the faeces needed to be rendered into a semi-liquid sludge. This was achieved by adding a measured amount of water to the faeces, which was transferred to a sizeable industrial-style blender. A lid was placed on top, and a switch flicked. The procedure was contained within the Sluice Room, where all the 'wet work' was done. Unfortunately, on this ill-favoured day, the rubber seal on the lid failed. This seal usually provided a perfect occlusion containing all the smelly grossness. I'm sure my readers can guess the sequel of events following the loss of perfect closure-  O, woe is me... Within a microsecond, I was sprayed, from head to foot, with faeces, both liquid and semi-solid. Luckily/unluckily, I was close to the instrument of my misery, and with a hand beset with foul ordure, I reached and turned the source of my torment off. My cries of gross misfortune brought forth my colleagues. None would come too close, and I could hear barely suppressed giggles in the background.

The sluice room contained a shower, and I promptly shuffled in and turned it on to full power. Once most of the faeces had been removed, I stripped and had a long, hot shower. Spare clothes were found that were vaguely fitting. My colleagues, as one, came and helped in the subsequent cleanup. Overalls and rubberised boots were obtained from the 'Emergency Cupboard'. The sluice room was self-contained with a thick, durable vinyl floor that crept up the wall for about 30cm. The cleaning was completed within the hour. After a backup blender was found, I returned to work.

As an aside, back in the 1970s, 'Health and Safety' was not a concept yet inculcated into laboratory culture. Had the accident happened today, I would have had to complete a lengthy Incident Report, and a sample of the offending faeces would have been sent for testing for the presence of a myriad of diseases. After a suitable delay, I would have been tested for conditions such as Hep B and C.   

After my mishap, the boss decided that a change in protocol was required. The blender was superseded by a stomacher system. Although it took longer to mulch faeces this way, it was deemed safer.

Moral of the story: Shit happens.