'The SPR and ASSAP: Time to Merge?' by Tom Ruffles and C J Romer

Introduction

The Association for the Scientific Study of Anomalous Phenomena (ASSAP) was founded in 1981 as the result of dissatisfaction felt by a few members of the Society for Psychical Research (SPR).  This is ancient history and it is not the present intention to rehearse the issues which created that rupture.  Suffice it to say that the two organisations have existed in parallel for over thirty years, attracting different, though frequently overlapping, memberships but generally standing aloof from one other.  Now that aloofness is dissolving, with each promoting the other’s activities on social media, and there is more interaction than has been the case in the past.  With this improvement in relations, the time has come to ask: why not merge to form a single body?

The first response might be to wonder why they should merge when they have such strong individual identities and do well on their own.  The answer is that they have strengths which are complementary, rather than antagonistic, so that both sets of members would gain from unification.  Another question is that if some members were dissatisfied with the SPR in 1981, could the same happen in the future, leading to yet more friction and possibly a fresh split?  The answer to that is that the current SPR is a long way from its 1981 incarnation, and fully aware of how traumatic such a rupture is in the life of an organisation.

The following sections attempt to answer some more of the questions that will naturally occur in a discussion of the merits of bringing ASSAP and the SPR together.  It is to be hoped that these will generate debate, which may produce further questions.

What are be the benefits of a merger?

The obvious one is a bigger combined membership, with economies of scale and greater resources.  A larger size should increase its punch and authority, both within the field and among the wider public.

The SPR has dedicated premises and a paid full-time administrator which would improve the ad-hoc administration experienced by ASSAP members.  The volunteers who run the latter do a tremendous job, but a dedicated office function has to be more efficient.  ASSAP members would have access to the range of benefits already enjoyed by SPR members.  These include four numbers of both the magazine Paranormal Review and the peer-reviewed Journal (and occasional Proceedings); free access to London lectures, reduced rates to bi-annual study days and the annual conference; a permanent library, archives of international significance, and free access to an online library of publications back to 1882.  ASSAP officers could be brought into the SPR Council structure by means of co-optation.

In terms of research, ASSAP has an energetic and enthusiastic membership, and this injection of energy would be welcome in the SPR.  ASSAP’s spontaneous case network would reinforce the existing SPR Spontaneous Cases Committee and its emphasis on training would be useful in stimulating interest in investigation among SPR members.  A larger combined membership, and therefore increased income, would enable an expansion of the amount given to fund research activities.

Education, a core function for both the SPR and ASSAP, would be improved as well.  Integrating the libraries and archives would provide an enhanced resource (the new SPR premises, bigger than the previous rented accommodation, providing the required space for ASSAP’s books), and ASSAP’s records would find a permanent home.  A single set of periodicals, with a larger circulation than either achieves singly, would attract a wider range of writers.

There would also be benefits in geographical reach: the SPR is often seen as London-centric, whereas ASSAP is successful regionally.  With a combined membership around the country there would be motivation for regional activities, enabling members outside London to participate in their localities.  This is an opportunity to decentralise some of the SPR’s functions, with more grassroots involvement.

What about differences in scope?

The subject-matter of the two organisations is not identical, that of ASSAP covering a wider area than that of the SPR.  ASSAP members might legitimately complain that a merger is likely to squeeze out particular interests, such as ufology, earth mysteries and folklore.  This is not necessarily an impediment, even though such topics in general fall outside the scope of the SPR.   In these days of easy electronic communication it is straightforward for sub-groups to pursue their interests.  The new SPR website will make it possible for members to keep in contact with each other easily, so that even though say ufology is not a significant element of psychical research, those with such an interest can still interact, while enjoying the benefits of their SPR membership.

Membership fees

A stumbling block is that ASSAP’s fees have always been significantly less than the SPR’s.  The standard membership rates are noticeably different, with ASSAP’s being a quarter of that charged by the SPR.  This reflects the different set-ups of the organisations, ASSAP’s lower volunteer-based costs compared to the SPR’s permanent paid staff and building expenses.  ASSAP members would hopefully consider the broader range of benefits enough to justify an increase, but perhaps there could be a transitional arrangement, with incremental rises over several years for existing ASSAP members to bring the two sets into line.  The SPR membership rates are very reasonable, and ASSAP members would hopefully see that the increase was justified.  It is most unlikely that there could be any reduction in the SPR rates to bring them closer to ASSAP’s.

Events

On the other hand, ASSAP members would undoubtedly baulk at the costs of the SPR conference and study days (as do some SPR members).  With ASSAP’s expertise in mounting economically priced study days (notably the extremely popular ‘Seriously…’ series), there is no reason why these could not continue, augmented by the presence of SPR members who had never attended an ASSAP event before.  The status of some of these, such as conferences on vampires and witchcraft, would be problematic under the SPR banner but these could be run in collaboration with other organisations, such as the London Fortean Society; the SPR has participated in joint events with the Scientific and Medical Network so there is precedent for such an approach.

A concern which has to be acknowledged is that the desire to organise events might diminish, with those who had previously volunteered for ASSAP not wanting to make the effort on the grounds that conferences of all kinds should be arranged at the centre.  It is doubtful that the SPR office would be willing to shoulder the extra administrative load.

What about the name?

The name could be a sticking point for ASSAP members.  There is no easy way that the names SPR and ASSAP could be combined, and there would be overwhelming resistance within the SPR to altering an internationally-recognised name that has been in existence since 1882.  The most likely outcome is that the SPR would retain its name, but with ‘incorporating The Association for the Scientific Study of Anomalous Phenomena’ on its literature – something that might not appeal to ASSAP members whose first loyalty is to that organisation.  This could be a major obstacle, but one that might be overcome if ASSAP members were convinced that the advantages outweighed the loss.

Mechanisms for reaching an agreement

This article has set out some of the pros and cons of a merger.  Bringing the two together would not be quick as there are a number of steps before that could happen.  In addition to a general debate among both sets of members there would have to be an initial discussion by the officers within the two organisations; a formal process of consultation with members; meetings between the two sets of officers to resolve any contentious issues; then there would have to be a vote, with a criterion for a yes vote agreed in advance.

Conclusion

This long after the event, most of those interested in our subject are not bothered about why ASSAP came into being.  What they want to see is a thriving organisation or organisations that can deliver the means necessary for them to pursue that interest.  Many join both with no sense of conflict, and a number of those who established ASSAP continued to take part in the SPR’s activities, clearly seeing no contradiction in belonging to both.  There is no doctrinal reason why the respective memberships should not combine and work together, and the practical difficulties could surely be overcome with goodwill on both sides.  In delivering their services the two organisations are capable of existing independently, but their combination would strengthen the voice for psychical research.  If that is our aim, then the case for coming together to our mutual benefit, and that of the field, is a strong one.

This article is being published jointly on the authors’ blogs, and publicised on social media, in the hope that it will generate a constructive exchange of views.  The authors are both members of the two organisations, but are not writing in any official capacity.  They welcome feedback of all types, which should be sent to tom.ruffles[at]yahoo.co.uk, in order to gauge levels of support for and opposition to the proposal.  This has to be a bottom-up process, with all opinions aired.

Tom Ruffles and C J Romer

10 October 2015

Update 31 October 2015:

On publication I linked this article to the SPR’s Facebook page and Twitter feed, while CJ Romer put a link on ASSAP’s Facebook page and later added the text to his ‘Polterwotsit’ blog.  Neither of us received any private communications, nor did the SPR Facebook page and Twitter links produce any feedback, suggesting a degree of indifference by those whose primary interest is the SPR, whether members or not.  However, the link on the ASSAP Facebook page generated a large number of comments.  These were uniformly negative.  It seems that there is still a considerable degree of mistrust by some ASSAP members towards the SPR, and one comment referred to the rift in the 1980s as ‘an unhealed scar’.  Not one person indicated a willingness to even consider the benefits of a merger.

A major concern in the Facebook debate was the greater resources and longer history of the SPR, which would cause ASSAP’s identity to be submerged.  Another issue, as I suspected it would be, is the difference in scope between the two organisations, particularly the lack of a focus on ufology within the SPR.  The fear was that more fortean activities would be marginalised (though despite it cropping up frequently in the discussion, I haven’t actually seen much evidence of members pursuing ufology with any vigour through ASSAP), and the creation of special interest groups discussing issues online was considered insufficient.  In fact, it was felt that the more limited scope of psychical research was a driver for the creation of ASSAP.  There was a feeling that it would make more sense for the SPR to merge into ASSAP than vice versa, or for the SPR to first change the ‘P’ in its name from Psychical to Paranormal, and expand its remit accordingly.

It was suggested that should the SPR and ASSAP combine, a significant rump would immediately split off to form ASSAP Mark Two; there could even be an exodus from the SPR, leading to three separate bodies (unlikely in my view).  A proposal was put forward that some form of networking between the two organisations, along with others which share a similar outlook, would assist greater collaboration while allowing each to retain its own identity.  It was generally agreed that greater cooperation is a good thing, though it was not specified what form that cooperation might take, apart from participating in each other’s conferences, and the counter-argument is that increased bureaucracy would lead to a loss of interest, making any gains short-lived.

The myth that membership of the SPR is expensive was impossible to eradicate, but then some ASSAP members think that £15 is a bit steep, so it is a matter of perspective.  A strand of the discussion focused on the higher overheads of having a building and paid staff, which does not occur if the administration is done from a volunteer’s home office.  It could be that ASSAP members like to think that SPR membership rates are exorbitant because it reinforces their belief that ASSAP is superior.  There was no acknowledgement of the benefits of SPR membership and its value for money.

A common argument was that ASSAP is in good shape and has no need of the SPR.  I learned that ASSAP’s funds are healthy, whereas I had assumed that they are parlous.  Even so, my main concern has not been the amount of money it has in the bank but organisational failures caused by a reliance on volunteers and erratic direction by its officers.  These deficiencies are now being rectified with an injection of energy (not least C J Romer taking on the task of producing its publications) but there are still problems, and some of those with the loudest voices on ASSAP’s Facebook page are not involved in the management structure and merely assume that ASSAP is strongly placed to face the future.  My suggestion that it might be in long-term decline did not go down well.

Writing the article was a useful exercise, but ASSAP’s core members are fiercely loyal and the conclusion that has to be drawn from the debate, which was generally conducted on respectful terms with minimal snark, is that a merger is unlikely.  There would be net benefits in my opinion, but the obstacles are too great.  The situation could arise at some point that ASSAP has to wind up, but probably not in the short to medium term.  If it does collapse the SPR will be able to offer a home to its members, but there would be no ASSAP to merge with and those subjects that fall outside the SPR’s primary area of interest, such as UFOs, would have to find a home elsewhere.

Tom Ruffles

The SPR: Making the Most of the Enfield Effect

Poster for The Enfield Haunting

The President’s letter from Prof. John Poynton and the article by John Fraser in the Summer 2015 issue of the Society for Psychical Research’s (SPR) magazine Paranormal Review together show many positive aspects to the SPR’s current situation.  Poynton notes that the substantial Buckmaster legacy is allowing it to fund an online encyclopaedia and improved website, and the financial situation is much sounder than it was a decade ago.  Research and publications in the field are buoyant and the SPR’s image is generally good in an intellectual climate which is increasingly receptive to the issues raised by psychical research.

Fraser points specifically to the ‘Enfield Effect’, the upsurge in membership applications and spontaneous case enquiries which followed in the wake of the recent television dramatisation based on the Enfield case, one linked to the SPR by the figures of Maurice Grosse and Guy Lyon Playfair.  Yet there is a fly in the psychical ointment.  Both Johns highlight a largely uninterested media, Poynton as an example citing the vigorous campaign to make the press aware of Dr Barrie Colvin’s 2010 paper on poltergeist raps, an effort which was unsuccessful; Fraser to an overall lack of impact by the SPR, at a time when local groups have proliferated and media coverage of the paranormal has actually increased.

Fraser suggests two possibilities that may allow the SPR to capitalise on the Enfield bounce in the longer term.  One is to appoint a media officer, the other to reinstate the long-dormant position of investigations officer.  The latter would be paid, to avoid having to rely on volunteers.  These are both useful ideas though personally I do not think they go far enough.

There used to be a media officer in the form of the immensely energetic Monty Keen.  One of his initiatives was to draw up a list of publications across all relevant subjects, and divide them among Council members who would keep an eye out for negative comments that could be countered, and opportunities for generating publicity.  In the event neither of these tactics proved effective.  Media indifference is not a new phenomenon.

The landscape has changed enormously since then and media enquiries are occasionally received through the website, but while welcome, their general impact seems fairly small.  Coverage often focuses on the early days, which simultaneously tells people the SPR has done noteworthy things while suggesting that these days it is irrelevant.  That is the situation which has to be changed, to show that the SPR still has something valuable to say.

An investigations officer would be beneficial, especially someone with a broad range of skills that encompass both experimental and spontaneous areas, who would be able to dedicate more time than volunteers can and be able to work up the results that could then be publicised.  Again though the impact might be limited, with no greater success with sophisticated material in breaking down the barriers than was the case with Colvin’s raps paper.

In the absence of such a post it should still be possible to conduct meaningful research with the resources available.   Admittedly it is difficult for individuals with other commitments to be able to undertake extended projects, but after all the SPR’s Spontaneous Cases Committee has a large number of individuals on it so there is no reason why it should not be effective in undertaking and promoting research.

At one time John Stiles, as Honorary Liaison Officer for Spontaneous Cases, kept a list of suitable SPR members to whom incoming cases could be referred, depending on location, which he would then follow up.  But he complained that the numbers of cases was getting smaller each year and the position lapsed when he retired from Council in 2003.  With numbers of cases on the rise such a mechanism to draw on members’ expertise would augment the SCC’s numbers and aid its efficiency.

These initiatives alone would probably still not be enough to prevent the surge of interest identified by Messrs Poynton and Fraser from receding.  The core problem underlying the SPR’s inability to overcome media inertia and reach a broader swathe of the sympathetic public I believe is rooted in its approach to research.  The odd high-profile activity (Enfield, the 1999 Scole Report) is not enough to gain the necessary momentum.  The SPR needs a sustained programme of research that is identified with the SPR rather than only the individuals carrying it out.

In the early days of the Society’s existence the undertaking of projects by senior figures in the Society was clearly defined, but nowadays it is likely to award grants to researchers at other institutions whose work is then associated with that institution rather than with the SPR.  It has mainly become a mechanism for administering grants and publicising the work of others rather than promoting work undertaken under its aegis.

Instead of this hands-off approach there is a case for having the SPR’s name closely linked to research, while maintaining its lack of corporate views.  Fraser refers to the Scole Report as achieving an unusually high profile outside the Society, but it is notable in recent years for being closely associated with the Society, rather than a project that was undertaken by a trio of investigators who happened to be members of the Society but were not identified with it.  The SPR needs to encourage researchers, whether funded by it or not, to associate themselves with the organisation in the same way.

Emphasising such linkages was part of the thinking behind the formation of the Research Activities Committee in 1992.  Prof. Bernard Carr outlined its remit in the January 1999 issue of Paranormal Review.  Of its various aims, he said that ‘the RAC's main task is to commission and foster promising research projects, rather than to undertake corporate research itself, although in some cases the Committee has encouraged “in-house” research.’  Unfortunately over the years the committee became moribund until it was wound up in early 2014.  That it was unlamented when it was put out of its misery is suggested by the lack of any reference to its termination in the Society’s 2013-14 Annual Report.

That is a shame because a body like the RAC could act as a focus to stimulate research while closely connecting those researchers to the Society.  It would nurture a symbiotic relationship, with the Society providing the funding (and attention should additionally be turned to increasing the relatively small amounts of money available) while, and this is the key point, the researchers emphasise that their primary affiliation is to the SPR.

That relationship would have a number of mutually reinforcing outcomes.  It would demonstrate the Society’s continuing relevance to the public, the media and other relevant organisations (not least the Parapsychological Association, the parapsychologists’ professional body); it would strengthen the network of researchers in the field and encourage them, whether SPR-funded or not, to publish in its magazines;  its Journal and annual conference would be able to attract the best research in the field; it would encourage membership growth; it would assist the SPR’s educational work, which is part of its charitable obligation; it would encourage passive members to become active and even conduct their own research; and the media might take notice of such a vigorous level of activity.

So the answer to the question in John Fraser’s subtitle – ‘Is the Recent Increased Interest in the Society for Psychical Research a Temporary Blip, or an Unmissable Opportunity?’ – is that the Enfield Effect has been a splendid opportunity which will ripple for a time but will eventually fade into the background.  A single bounce is never going to be enough, however significant it is in itself.  There are initiatives that will help to maintain the SPR’s profile in a sustainable way, notably the online encyclopaedia.  Social media plays a positive role, and an improved website will generate interest.  But more is needed, research that is relevant, done by SPR members who are not afraid to be seen primarily as SPR members and who are happy to promote that affiliation.

Perhaps this approach can be summed up by arguing that the SPR needs to position itself as a research institute as opposed to a learned society.  Whether that is possible will depend on its ability to project confidence in its potential alongside pride in its past achievements.  Above all it needs to possess the self-belief that it can match the heady days of its youth, rather than jog along in the lengthy shadow cast by its founders.  If it can do that it will be said with justice that there is a tide in the affairs of the SPR which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.

References

Carr, Bernard, ‘Research Activities in the SPR: New Initiatives’, Paranormal Review, issue 9, January 1999, pp. 3-5.

Colvin, Barrie, ‘The Acoustic Properties of Unexplained Rapping Sounds’, Journal of the Society for Psychical Research, vol. 73, April 2010, pp. 65-93.

Fraser, John, ‘The Enfield Effect: Is the Recent Increased Interest in the Society for Psychical Research a Temporary Blip, or an Unmissable Opportunity?’, Paranormal Review, issue 75, Summer 2015, p. 30.

Keen, Montague, Ellison, Arthur and Fontana, David, ‘The Scole Report’, Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, vol. 58, 1999.

Poynton, John, ‘President’s Letter: A Tide in the Affairs of Men’, Paranormal Review, issue 75, Summer 2015, pp. 4-5.

Second-hand books: Reasons not to be Annoyed

The Christmas Companion, 1939

Luke McKernan has written about second-hand books, specifically those aspects he finds annoying, and has come up with a list containing 19 things that to a greater or lesser extent irritate him.  Some of these I agree with, but on others I have to take issue (of a fairly mild sort; this isn’t going to turn into a flame war).   The heart of my disagreement is that Luke sees a second-hand book ideally as something which floats free of its context, whereas I embrace that context and approach the book as an object with a history.  This may contradict the point I made some time ago, in response to another of Luke’s blog posts, about it being the words that count, not their container, hence my general lack of sentimentality about the vehicle that delivers them; but I added that I am most definitely a bibliophile, and that means a deep affection for books as objects.  I can melt at the sight of a fine binding with the best of them, but also find pleasure in what Luke sees as warts.  So, what does he say, and how do I feel about those 19 things that so vex him?  I’ll run through them in reverse order (shortening the longer ones).  His comments are italicised.

19. Library stamp – a book stamped as belonging to a library is no longer a real book. Ditto school books

No longer real?  Well, there may be some subtle metaphysical issue here, but how can a library stamp affect the utility of a book?  There are occasionally sound reasons to avoid such volumes – the information inside may be redundant, or they may score high on the yuk scale (thank you the inventor of anti-bac spray for helping with grime and germs), but stamps might be of interest.  Knowing that a discarded book came from Croydon Public Libraries in the 2000s might not set the pulse racing, but if it started life in (to use a random example of my own) W T Stead’s Borderland Library, that to my mind contributes an extra layer.  School books are real too, but may well fall into the redundant category and be off the yuk scale altogether.  On the other hand my copy of Kennedy’s Latin Primer is identical to the one I had at school, with the exception of the cover, and would not be a jot different if it had a school stamp in it.

18. Faber paperbacks – so badly bound; the publisher seems never to have considered how the books were to be opened. Stick to the hardbacks.

A bit harsh; I don’t find Faber’s paperbacks significantly better or worse to read than other publishers’.  At least they remain intact.  What is annoying is glue that disintegrates so that pages loosen, and acid paper that becomes brittle.

17. Vanity publishing – the puzzling this is, who acquired them in the first place before disposing of them?

It depends on the content.  Vanity publishing is a term that has become somewhat looser with the advent of digital self-publishing and an expansion of the ways an author can get a book before an audience.  The difference is that a vanity publisher takes a huge chunk of money for doing the job, usually badly, and there is an element of exploitation of the author.  That doesn’t necessarily mean the book is worthless, though as with self-publishing the chances are that it is less polished than it would be had it undergone proper editorial scrutiny.

16. Book society reprints – all those book society reprints sold as special offers through magazines … I know they look exactly like the real thing, but they’re not. I know I’m being snobbish about it, but the simple fact of the matter remains. Sorry.

Yup, snobbish.  There may be more scholarly editions available, but as reading copies there is nothing wrong with them.  Societies have played a huge role in the past in increasing the number of titles available to those with limited incomes and their role should be celebrated, not dismissed.  I have quite a few Science Fiction Book Club hardbacks that I picked up second hand, and welcome them as opportunities to acquire books that I probably wouldn’t otherwise come across.  One cannot say the same of Reader’s Digest abridgements, which have always struck me as undermining the integrity of the original.

15. Folio Society – presumably there are people out there who purchase Folio Society books and think they look good on the shelves. Then they realise their mistake, dump them in the second-hand shop, where no one ever touches them again.

I suspect there is a market in second-hand Folio Society editions to judge by their prices, but possibly more among collectors than readers.  I have a few myself, but in general I prefer editions with a critical apparatus to nice illustrations.  They are so big in their slipcases as well, taking up valuable shelf space.

14. Missing volumes in a series – argh, how I going to find the missing one? Even if I found the same edition, it still wouldn’t fit in properly.

On the plus side there is the thrill of the chase, on the minus side it is frustrating to have gaps that are difficult to fill.  There is also the problem of duplicating classic novels issued by different publishers because I can’t decide between them.

13. Underlining – I tell a lie, finding that someone has written in the book is worse ….

On the whole I agree, with exceptions.  My pet hate is highlighting using a fluorescent pen, which renders the words unreadable, with underlining a close second.  Sometimes though marginalia can be illuminating: I once had a copy of a book that had been owned by the renowned psychical researcher Molly Goldney which was full of her annotations, but was in poor shape.  I sold it when I acquired a copy in better overall condition, and still regret having done so.

12. Food stains – nothing can disfigure a book more.

Definitely – that’s one element of its history I can do without. What sort of person uses a book as a coaster?  Even worse is the idea of employing a rasher of bacon as a bookmark; thankfully not a common practice.  I do like finding (clean) objects, old receipts, bus tickets and the like.

11. Foxing – the book is dying, and there is nothing I can do about it.

It’s a cause for sadness rather than annoyance.  Digital reproduction can extend their lives as well as making them widely accessible, but it’s not the same as holding a piece of processed wood in your hands.

10. Faded jackets – don’t leave your books in the sun, dear previous owner.

I totally agree, though unless said previous owner is rigorous about pulling the curtains during the day it’s hard to avoid completely, at least on the spines.

9. Books put aside that someone else then buys – how can this be? …

I know that feeling when you are not sure, change your mind later and return, only to find it’s too late.  On the other hand I also know the feeling of buying hastily and repenting at leisure.

8. Books I already have – a special sort of annoyance, in that I really would like to buy the book, yet it would be absurd to do so. Maybe it is a compulsion to repeat a successful past action.

Yes, this is a most odd phenomenon that I too have experienced.

7. Over-priced – of course I know the correct price for any book ever published in whatever condition, and will huffily put back on the shelf anything that does not match my perfect estimation.

Sometimes you bend, sometimes not, depending on how much you want it.  You have to learn to be strong enough to walk away, but it still rankles.  I find it helps to have a wife who is happier than I am to haggle with dealers.

6. Pages missing – and it’s only after you’ve bought the thing and got to page 200 that you find out …

It does happen, but rarely.  The overall condition is an incentive to check carefully and find whether bits are missing.

5. Split spines – there has to be a special circle of Hell for people who break the spines of books to make them easier to read. Such people should never have been allowed to learn to read in the first place.

No argument.  Pure evil.

4. Cut corners – all those books with the price removed from the jacket so that the grateful recipient would not know how much had been spent on them. Bad manners masking as good manners.

You don’t see this as much nowadays, perhaps indicating that books are less likely to be given as gifts, or because the price often appears on the back with the barcode.  It is annoying because the original price is part of the book’s history (see below), and clipping affects the book’s monetary value.

3. Ex Libris and ‘This Book Belongs to’ labels – how ludicrous to have a personalised label and to stick it in the books that you own. How many perfectly books have I come across and had to spurn because someone before him had stamped their ownership on it forever? …

I tend to agree, unless the owner is famous or the book is from a significant collection.  I did once receive a box of personalised bookplates with a nice Aubrey Beardsley-esque cat design, but frankly they were a pain to get straight.  I was also given an embossing stamp as a present but the results weren’t visible enough.  There is no reason to spurn a book for having a label, even if the labeller was of modest background.  In particular I rather like books which have been given as prizes – the bookplates can be attractive, and they supply some context that would otherwise be lost.  I have a few that I received as prizes for various achievements in the Boys’ Brigade and I will always keep those even when I have obtained a better edition.

2. The donor’s name written on the flyleaf – equally so those books with loving messages from a relative who did not realise that their gift would handed in to the second-hand shop as soon as Christmas was over. …

It’s a bit sad to see loving inscriptions dating from last year.  You wonder at the callousness of the recipient when someone has gone to the trouble of buying the book for them.  They could at least hide it at the back of a cupboard and get rid of it when they come across it again, to put a respectable distance between gift and disposal.  I agree such additions are pointless, unless the signature is that of the author, or associated with the subject in some way (I was pleasantly surprised recently to find that a 50p charity shop purchase on the 1943 RAF bombing raids on Germany had been signed by the author and a couple of members of those bombers’ crews).  Those I like, though book signing is a bit of an industry these days; Kazuo Ishiguro autographed so many copies of The Buried Giant that I thought the hardback would probably be worth more without it (‘oh look, here’s one he missed!).

1. The owner’s name written on the flyleaf – ugh, what sort of fool is it who wants to write their name in a book – and then give it away?

I’ve left this until last because here Luke and I part company completely.  I have written my name in books, usually neatly in the corner in a small triangle, since I was a teenager.  Antiquarian volumes are exempt, at least until my signature becomes a means of enhancing rather than diminishing their value.  So why put my name inside?  Probably to begin with it was in case I lent the book, to remind the borrower that it was mine.  Later it was to show that it had a history; I liked to see old signatures, and to speculate on them.  I frequented the Kirkdale Bookshop in Sydenham when I was at school and in my twenties, and over a period bought a number of books that had come in a job lot.  The previous owner of these was a G C Pearson and I wondered who he or she might have been, and why the address given with the name was c/o Mrs Rudling of 18 Venner Road, Sydenham SE26.  The inclusion of a name to me imparted something more than an anonymous book would have, and I thought I should like to be part of that chain of ownership.

Vanity perhaps, but I was intrigued once when talking to someone who sold books in King’s Lynn when he said that he had been in London and had come across an item with my name in.  You send them off into the world for whatever reason, and you don’t know where they go, but there is still a link.  Some time ago I bought a paperback with a Book Crossing label, which in theory enables a book to be tracked to its various destinations.  When I replaced that copy with a hardback I too logged the details into the Book Crossing website, but heard no more.  I had however also put my name inside as well, so hello The Holmes Affair, wherever you may be.  G C Pearson is doubtless long dead, but in a sense lives on for as long as those books he or she wrote in exist.

One he missed.

I am surprised Luke didn’t mention sticky-back plastic.  It is marginally acceptable on reading copies of paperbacks, and looks better than a dog-eared copy, but it is a dreadful substance generally.  I went through a phase of using the stuff a long time ago, and was recently embarrassed when I donated a rare pamphlet to the Marx Memorial Library that I had covered (and it had to be me because my name was written in the corner underneath it).  I apologised profusely for being so daft.  What I do like are ex-library hardbacks that are covered in removable plastic.  Even if the book is ratty, the dust jacket can still be pristine under its scuffed shroud, and I have been known to swap covers to get the best combination.

To conclude, Luke says: ‘I’m always in pursuit of an elusive ideal – the pre-owned object that by some magical transmutation becomes mine and mine alone.’  It is not merely elusive, it’s an impossible ideal because that book can never be yours alone: it had a previous owner, and unless your stewardship is disastrous, it will have subsequent ones.  What I think he craves is a second-hand book that is indistinguishable from a new one.  That is fine, but a second-hand book has so much more to offer if viewed in the right way, and in reality there is very little to get annoyed about.

The Chinese Photobook, The Photographers’ Gallery, London

China is a large country with a complex history, so it is not surprising that photography produced there should reflect that complexity.  The Chinese Photobook, a small exhibition at the Photographers’ Gallery in London, is a welcome, if cramped, opportunity to examine its photobook production over the last century.  Some of images, for example from the Cultural Revolution, will have an air of familiarity, but there are many that will be new to the non-specialist, making it a valuable peek into a world little known to most in the West, or known largely through the prism of cliché.

The exhibition is co-produced by the Aperture Foundation and Les Rencontres d’Arles.  It is curated by Martin Parr and the Dutch duo WassinkLundgren (Thijs groot Wassink and Ruben Lundgren), Parr’s involvement originating from an interest in propaganda and Socialist Realist photography.  Most of the books the three have collected were purchased either from flea markets or online.  The exhibition is partially supported by the soft-power China Art Foundation, which shows that current political interests cannot be disentangled from aesthetic and historical issues.  A chunkily handsome but rather expensive illustrated coffee table book, The Chinese Photobook: From the 1900s to the Present, has been published by Aperture to accompany it.

Covering the period from 1900 to the present day, the images chart in a condensed form the trajectory of China from an agrarian feudal society to the second largest economy in the world.  In addition to display cases and framed sheets, there are videos showing someone flipping through photobooks, giving the viewer the opportunity to see how the pages relate to each other.  These were fascinating, but clumsily turned, and a better method would have been to have scanned the pages and shown them as a slide show.  At least there is more to see than in static volumes under glass.

The exhibition is divided into six sections: ‘From Empire to the People’s Republic of China (1900-1949)’; ‘Manchuria and the Sino-Japanese War’ (1931-1947)’; ‘The Image of a New China (1945-1966)’; ‘State Publishing: The Cultural Revolution and Beyond (1966-present)’; ‘The Renaissance of Chinese Photography’ (1979-present)’; and ‘Global Perspectives on China’ (1949-present).

The years 1900-49 were hugely eventful, beginning with European photographic pioneers taking advantage of the commercial and military penetration of the country.  Photography soon caught on among affluent Chinese, and amateur photography flourished.  In a period that began with a rigid imperial regime and ended with the establishment of a rigid Communist state, it was inevitable that photography would serve many purposes, not least pornographic, as the country struggled to establish a new identity.  In this the growth of mass media and improved printing techniques assisted the dissemination of photography, which both reflected and shaped the discourse of nationhood in a changing world, while acknowledging China’s rich artistic heritage.

‘Manchuria and the Sino-Japanese War’ focuses on photobooks published by both the Chinese and Japanese, including in the puppet state of Manchukuo, featuring competing narratives of the war and its legitimacy.  Japanese products were often designed to spin a story to its own citizens and those of its occupied territories in which conquest was depicted as harmonious cooperation and the Japanese presence benign.  Naturally the Chinese themselves had a different perspective on the Japanese invaders, highlighting the brutality and despoliation.

Pictorial Review of the Sino-Japanese Conflict in Shanghai, 1932

The next section covers the defeat of Japan, the civil war between the Nationalists and Communists, the foundation of the People’s Republic of China in 1949, and the development of Mao’s personality cult.  Photography played a vital role in propaganda, uniting people and party in a common effort within the ruling ideology to present a positive image both domestically and internationally.  As that programme suggests, the photographs (government managed rather than privately made) tended to be carefully composed and lacking spontaneity, in order to show the heroic strides the country was making in leaving its troubled past behind and forging a new social order, symbolised by the Great Leap Forward from 1958.  Bright cheerful groups gather to praise the wisdom of Marxism-Leninism-Mao Tse-tung thought and denounce the imperialist machinations of the running dogs of the fascist bourgeoisie.

1966 was a key turning point, with the institution of the Cultural Revolution which had such a devastating effect on the lives of ordinary people.  State control over publishing, both text and images, was centralised and guidelines were rigorously enforced.  Possession of unauthorised material was an offence.  As in the Soviet Union individuals fell out of favour, and publications featuring them had to be retrospectively censored.  One of the most fascinating displays is a number of books which have had pictures of unpersons (often the disgraced Lin Biao) scored out by their owners.  A change came with Mao’s death in 1976 and Deng Xiaoping’s liberalising influence, China beginning to look outwards more as it sought to become a major player on the world stage, projecting a modern technological image.

Chairman Mao is the Red Sun in Our Hearts, 1967

Socially, massaged optimism was replaced by a sense of realism, and photography followed suit.  As part of this change there was toleration of more diverse expressions of individual views.  From the late 1970s publishing outside the official structures occurred, such as photobooks documenting protests following the death of Zhou Enlai in 1976.  Individualism crept in as the country progressed economically and there were increasing opportunities for free expression (though as Tiananmen Square – still taboo – attests, there are limits).  It comes as a surprise to see openly gay photographs, and these are an indication that however clandestine, and however far it still needs to go, there is now an element of liberalism in China unknown in previous decades.

As a consequence, photographers were able to engage in a more spontaneous, and often critical, depiction of their lives, and as well as sharing these with fellow citizens were also able to present them outside China through international distribution channels, helping to integrate Chinese photography into the global art trade.  Chinese travellers turned their lenses on the rest of the world; at the same time foreigners scrutinised China, seeing the country with fresh eyes, just as those European pioneers had at the start of the twentieth century.  China is still far from being an open democracy, but it has come a long way from its previous insularity.  There is even space for out and out weirdness, notably The Hairy People of China (1982), which balances, not very well, cool scientific scrutiny with idle voyeurism.

Wasskink, Lundgren and Parr have done a valuable job in collecting and publicising the wealth of photography in China, undoubtedly acting as a stimulus for further research, but overall the displays feel like a taster for the exhibition book.  This is a show that could have justified the use of another floor of the gallery, and the contrast between the expansiveness of China and the smallness of the allotted space is very evident.

The exhibition is at the Photographers’ Gallery from 17 April to 5 July 2015.

Edmund Dawson Rogers and the Society for Psychical Research Website

Edmund Dawson Rogers

The May 2015 issue of Psychic News contains an article by Leslie Price (pp.31-2) on the Spiritualist element in the early Society for Psychical Research.  Part of Price’s article discusses the amendment of the SPR website’s history page in December 2014 to include a reference to Edmund Dawson Rogers, someone who claimed to have had the idea of the Society.  The article is headed boldly, 'Did the Society for Psychical Research deny its Spiritualist origins?: Psychical researcher and historian of Spiritualism Leslie Price sheds light on a disturbing "cover-up".'  Disturbing?  How so?

What happened was this.  Psypioneer, the online journal with which Price is associated, occasionally bangs on about Edmund Dawson Rogers, and the charge that the SPR routinely airbrushes him out of the narrative of its formation in 1882 because he was a Spiritualist, and the SPR wants everyone to think that only respectable people founded it, like Frederic Myers, Henry Sidgwick and Edmund Gurney.

In the November 2014 issue of Psypioneer, Price collated various items of correspondence that had appeared in the magazine Light with Rogers and William Barrett disputing who was responsible for the idea of the SPR (‘New Light on S.P.R. Origins? – LIGHT 1893’, pp.309-16).  At the beginning Price states:

‘When a project is successful, there may be rival claims to have started it. In the first issue of Psypioneer, we noted how the name of Edmund Dawson Rogers, a Spiritualist and mere journalist, had been omitted from the Society for Psychical Research web site – still the case today.  We are currently told only “The SPR, the first learned society of its kind, was founded in London in 1882.”’

The opening article in the premier issue of Psypioneer, in May 2004, is indeed ‘SPR conceived by a Spiritualist’, and is about Rogers and how his ‘name is not used in official SPR publicity’, though it is hard to imagine it being much of a draw.

I was not responsible for the historical text on the SPR website (‘History of The Society for Psychical Research’) that was proving so contentious, but as I had occasionally seen references to the omission of Rogers’ name in Psypioneer I thought that inserting his name into the text would calm down those voices which were keen to play this issue up as some kind of conspiracy to disavow the Spiritualist’ role in the SPR’s formation.  So just before Christmas 2014, with the permission of the original author, I added Rogers’ name, and also the 20 February date of its actual foundation, to the SPR website’s historical overview:

‘The SPR, the first learned society of its kind, was founded in London on 20 February 1882, following initial discussions between William Barrett and Edmund Dawson Rogers, and then a conference convened in London in January to discuss the viability of such a Society.’

I emailed Leslie Price to let him know, so that he could finally allow his Rogers fixation to rest.  Or so I naively thought.  Instead it merely gave him fresh energy to beat up the SPR.

In the February 2015 issue of Psypioneer, in an article triumphantly entitled ‘SPR recognises Dawson Rogers at last’ (p.56), he begins, ‘The Society for Psychical Research has acknowledged Edmund Dawson Rogers as a founder in 1882. This follows a ten-year campaign by Psypioneer.’  Somewhat miffed by the implication that it was solely Psypioneer’s fearless determination to see justice done which had finally overcome the SPR’s equal but ultimately futile determination not to allow any mention the name of Edmund Dawson Rogers to sully its website, I drew attention to the article on the SPR’s Facebook page, which I manage, on 22 March 2015:

‘The latest issue of the ever-excellent free online Psypioneer has just been released (Feb 2015). It includes a short article by Leslie Price ('SPR recognises Dawson Rogers at last'), about the SPR website's section on the history of the Society being revised to include a reference to Edmund Dawson Rogers's role in its formation.

‘The way that this has been posed by Psypioneer, especially referring to a 'ten-year campaign' to have Rogers' name included, suggests that somehow there has been a conspiracy to downplay Rogers' role, and fierce opposition to Psypioneer's valiant efforts to set the record straight.

‘I think the real, and much more mundane, reason for Rogers' omission from the original text (which I didn't write, though I did revise it to include him) is simpler – he just wasn't seen as that significant, in a highly condensed historical overview, to the development of the SPR. But anyway, he's now included, and Psypioneer are happy.’

I added a link to the Psypioneer website at the end.

If I thought that was the end of the matter I was mistaken, as Price has taken the opportunity to have another pop the SPR in the latest Psychic News, citing my Facebook comments (I need to emphasise that the SPR has no corporate views so that it is impossible to speak in the name of the Society and these comments are mine alone).  A box reproduces the February 2015 Psypioneer article, again with the heading 'SPR recognises Dawson Rogers at last'.  Price’s Psychic News article goes on:

‘The SPR’s Facebook editor [i.e. me] responded to this. (The SPR Facebook page serves as an informal daily newspaper for psychical research.)’

Price quotes the second two paragraphs of my 22 March Facebook post and manages to turn it into a concern that the SPR might have a cavalier attitude to evidence:

‘There is, however, a worrying implication from the SPR’s attempts over many years to put a more academic face on its early history.  Suppose in writing up cases and experiments, a similar attitude to the facts had been taken to what was felt to be not “that significant”?’

Sounds bad, doesn’t it.  Leaving something out that isn’t significant?  That’s not very scientific.  Everything should go in, just in case it turns out to be significant later.  So leaving out Rogers’ name from a potted history of the SPR covering 130+ years suggests that the Society could take a similarly slap-dash approach to research.  Price seems to have misunderstood the function of a brief introduction aimed at the general reader visiting the SPR’s website in what is clearly irritation at having Rogers referred to as someone who probably ‘wasn't seen as that significant’ in the eyes of the website article’s author.

It’s possible that even Psychic News’s editor thought that Price’s tone in his article was unfair to the SPR because ‘cover-up’ in the title is in inverted commas.  Why would you do that if you really thought it was a cover-up?  The implication is that it is Price’s phrase, and not one shared by the magazine.  But why is Price so keen to drum up Rogers?  There is a link.  Rogers was involved in the launch of the Spiritualist magazine Light in 1881.  Light is the magazine of the College of Psychic Studies.  Price is the archivist at the College of Psychic Studies.  That may be considered reason enough to want to defend Rogers from perceived slights.

So was there a cover-up, or even a ‘cover-up’?  While I agree that over the course of the SPR’s history there has generally been no great enthusiasm for acknowledging the presence of Spiritualists among its membership, what I don’t think happened was a conspiracy which said ‘let’s not refer to that ghastly Spiritualist and journalist Edmund Dawson Rogers’.  It's not as if he has been ignored in publications associated with the SPR.  He features in both Renée Haynes' centenary The Society for Psychical Research 1882-1982: A History, and the volume edited by Ivor Grattan-Guinness on Psychical Research: A Guide to its History, Principles and Practices, in Celebration of 100 Years of the Society for Psychical Research.

True, Rogers is only referred to a couple of times in each, but then that is to be expected if he was not a significant figure in the early SPR.  Alan Gauld in his The Founders of Psychical Research also fleetingly mentions Rogers a couple of times, in footnotes; that seems to be what his contribution to the SPR deserves, yet somehow he managed to become a cause célèbre in the pages of first Psypioneer and now Psychic News!  Let’s hope that finally Leslie Price has got this out of his system and will find some other interest to engage his attention, preferably one that does not involve the SPR.

Update 9 May 2015

Leslie Price has sent me a depressingly long email (7 May) discussing various items with which he disagrees in this blog post.  It came as something of a surprise because on the same day he linked to the post on his Facebook page with the words ‘My article in the May issue of the magazine Psychic News about SPR pioneer Edmund Dawson Rogers, has drawn adverse comment - and another photo of the man himself!’, which did not seem to suggest he had any problems with it.  Despite these mixed messages I feel that I should respond to the email, though I don’t expect the result to be of interest to many.  I appreciate that I am myself commenting on a communication not in the public domain, not something I would normally do, but Leslie raises some issues that require an answer, and he concludes: ‘Please have a think about your blog, and whether it should be amended.’ which to my mind gives me tacit approval to cite his email, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to explain any amendments made as a result of it.  On reflection perhaps what I wrote does need to be, if not amended (I’ve not touched what I originally wrote, and Leslie has not indicated that I have crossed a legal line), at least amplified to address his concerns.  I’m sure he appreciates that anything I write is my view alone, I do not, and cannot, speak for the SPR, and whatever roles I perform for the SPR are irrelevant to my opinions regarding Edmund Dawson Rogers and the extent of his involvement in the Society’s foundation.

To begin with, Leslie says that his Psypioneer note in the February 2015 issue – the one beginning ‘The Society for Psychical Research has acknowledged Edmund Dawson Rogers as a founder in 1882. This follows a ten-year campaign by Psypioneer’ – was intended merely to announce the alteration to the SPR website to include Rogers’ name, and express appreciation for it.  I’m sure it was both those things, but the conjunction of those sentences right at the start does, at least to me, imply a desire to take credit for having fought a successful decade-long campaign that had finally borne fruit against determined opposition (else why, it suggests, would it have taken ten years to accomplish?).  Psypioneer has, as I said above, referred occasionally since its inception to the omission of Rogers’ name from SPR literature and website, but if this can be called a campaign, the truth is that it was one with only a single combatant, and I suspect it barely registered outside the pages of Psypioneer.  I added Rogers’ name to the SPR website’s historical overview not because I felt any pressure to do so but because there seemed no particular reason not to, and I thought it would please the Rogers camp to see their man included; also I suppose to indicate that his previous omission was not through some cover-up but, as a reflection of his overall importance to the development of the SPR in a compressed online history aimed at the general non-specialist reader.

Leslie goes on to discuss my brief 22 March note on the SPR’s Facebook page, the bulk of which he included in his article in the May 2015 issue of Psychic News.  These were off-the-cuff remarks, in a medium that is by its nature transient, made after reading the Psypioneer article.  I wasn’t pleased to find them enshrined in a more permanent form, albeit semi-anonymously as by ‘The SPR’s Facebook editor’ (semi- because plenty of people know that I look after the SPR’s Facebook presence) in the pages of Psychic News.  He thought they might be construed as ‘condescending’, even though he had happily reproduced them, a charge which surprised me.  They were certainly not intended to be condescending, and probably only seem so to someone who is defensive about Rogers and his small part in forming the SPR.

Leslie claims that the Psychic News article was not designed to beat the SPR despite the reference in it to a cover-up. In any case, he says that the choice of ‘cover-up’ in the Psychic News’s sub-heading was not his but the editor’s.  I can accept that was the case, but even so the sub-heading takes its tone from Leslie’s article, a chunk of which deals with the SPR ignoring Rogers and focusing on ‘Cambridge scholars’.  That sounds like Leslie is accusing the SPR of a cover-up, so the magazine’s editor can be forgiven for thinking it a suitable expression to use.  He quotes the words in Psychic News which I found particularly inflammatory, i.e. the second sentence here:

‘There is, however, a worrying implication from the SPR’s attempts over many years to put a more academic face on its early history.  Suppose in writing up cases and experiments, a similar attitude to the facts had been taken to what was felt to be not “that significant”?’

I interpreted this to mean that a morally dubious wish to impose an academic face on its early history (something which was bogus because it wrote out the likes of Rogers) meant that it would be happy to similarly manipulate ‘the facts’ in other instances to suit its own purpose.  The result of that would be that the Society’s voluminous publications could not be trusted because the results of such cases and experiments had been manipulated to present a particular stance, one that was in particular ill-disposed towards Spiritualism.  Leslie brings up Madame Blavatsky in this context, alluding to the Hodgson Report which has been heavily criticised for bias in recent years.  Such unfortunate things can happen, but while not wishing to get into a further debate about the rights or wrongs of Hodgson’s enquiry I will say that if you have to reach back to 1885 for an example, while making the vague accusation sound like it was the SPR’s standard operating procedure, then it just comes across as innuendo.

In my original blog post I referred to the volumes written or edited by Alan Gauld, Renée Haynes and Ivor Grattan-Guinness, but I did not include Rogers himself.  How much did he have to say about his allegedly seminal contribution to the SPR?  Life and Experiences of Edmund Dawson Rogers: Spiritualist and Journalist, Editor of ‘Light’ and President of the London Spiritualist Alliance (from which the portrait of Rogers above is drawn) reprinted an article from Light as a memorial to him after his death in 1910.  The single page it devotes to the SPR cannot be bothered to get the name right, as it is headed ‘Origin of the Psychical Research Society’.  Even Rogers didn’t consider, on this evidence, that he had made a particularly significant contribution; he describes the famous meeting with William Barrett, but is vague about the date – ‘It so happened that in the year 1882, or perhaps in the last months of 1881 – I cannot now recollect the date – Professor W F Barrett was spending the night with me at my residence in Finchley … I suggested that a society should be started on lines which would be likely to attract some of the best minds which had hitherto held aloof from the pursuit of the inquiry.  Professor Barrett approved of the suggestion, and called a conference …’

I am sorry that Leslie considered me discourteous in my references to him.  Again, that was not intentional, but I can see that using the term ‘fixation’ was an unhappy one.  It simply reflected my bemusement that anybody would actually want to mount an effort over so many years merely to have Rogers’ name included in SPR publicity.  And I simply couldn’t see why he would want to keep worrying at it after Rogers’ name was eventually included on the SPR website, and thus the aim of the Psypioneer’s long lonely crusade achieved.  I certainly wouldn’t have written my original blog post if Leslie hadn’t seen fit to write the article for Psychic News (and sadly far more people read Psychic News and Psypioneer than ever read posts on this blog!).  He also objects to my linkage of him, Rogers, Light and the CPS, pointing out rightly that he was not CPS archivist in 2004 when Psypioneer began its championing of Rogers.  But I believe Leslie was the CPS’s librarian in 1969, so he has had a long association with the College, even if he did not hold a position with it for that entire period.  I don’t know why he should be unhappy with the association; to me it seemed some kind of reason for Leslie’s lengthy promotion of Rogers, and not an ignoble one.

Leslie’s last point relates to my final sentence: ‘… find some other interest to engage his attention, preferably one that does not involve the SPR’, asking if I am suggesting that he should not involve himself in SPR matters.  Of course I was not saying that, I was thinking of this exercise, particularly the Psychic News article, one that has served to reinforce barriers between psychical researchers and Spiritualists rather than break them down.  If Leslie wishes to engage in SPR matters it is to be applauded, but I hope that they are positive efforts.  I was making the point that I did not feel that this particular intervention was a constructive one.

My overall conclusion is that this business has escalated out of all proportion to the original issue, and bad feeling has been engendered.  The saga is best categorised as a good deed gone awry (and if that is felt to be patronising I apologise in advance), but it’s done now.    An irony is that I have previously found myself in Leslie’s shoes, criticising authors in book reviews for omitting Rogers’ name from their examination of the SPR’s origins.  I have never been dismissive of Rogers’ contribution to the SPR, while keeping it in perspective, so it seems odd to find myself in some kind of dispute over him.  I suspect that Leslie will return to this issue in one form or another in either Psypioneer or Psychic News, but I don’t think I will wish to add anything further.