When in mourning, it’s natural for those suffering the loss to wish to speak to the deceased, to reconnect and find closure by means of some sort of posthumous communication, however frustratingly impossible the idea seems to be.
According to John Edward, however, those in the afterlife want to speak to us too. Edward claims to be a “medium,” an intermediary between those in the afterlife and those in the studio audience of his new television show, which comes after the cancellation of his first show and the publication of a book. Every episode follows the same format. He walks on stage and scans the faces of his audience comprised mainly of middle-aged females and points toward a couple of rows in a particular direction.
“I’m getting a Samantha…or a…Samuel…or a…Sam…Sammy…Tammy,” he says.
“I’m Tammy,” a woman says, rising, tissue in hand, ready to go. And from there, Edward identifies Tammy’s daughter sitting to her right (which is a task that seems easy enough, given that a woman resembling Tammy is holding Tammy’s hand, but Tammy and her daughter are impressed). He asks who Brian…Ryan…Kyan is.
“Brian is- was my nephew,” Tammy says.
“Brian says he didn’t like the hospital, and he misses you. And it’s OK. And he’s in a good place.” Tammy cries and sits down. Her daughter hugs her.
That’s the abridged version of one of several readings that occurs during the half-hour Edward show. Yes, it’s a weird concept. And yes, it is a concept that gets boring after a while. And it’s a concept with ethical questions that can be weighed and debated.
Skeptics have investigated Edward’s technique and claim that he does what is known as a “warm reading,” which involves talking quickly and taking clues from someone’s speech and body language to determine which way to move the reading. Audience testimonials state that he performs “cold readings” as well, meaning that he gets information on his subjects beforehand. Audience members claim that they sat in their seats for hours before taping and that the theatre is bugged with microphones, cameras and production assistants taking notes. If audiences engage in small-talk long enough, they start to mention names of dead relatives. So by the time Edward has walked on stage, he has enough information to fill a show. Furthermore, audience members claim that 30-minute conversations between Edward and an audience member are whittled down to 30 seconds on air to make his guessing seem more consistent and accurate.
So, if the question is if what Edward is doing is right, there are a couple of perspectives to be mentioned. On the one hand, he is exploiting the bereavement of his audience members for the sake of entertainment. Some may argue that his audience members are willingly submitting themselves to his manipulation. By entering his studio, they are submitting themselves to his will and it is their job to investigate his techniques as consumers of his product. A disclaimer at the end of the show offers that the show is intended for “entertainment purposes only.” On the other hand, people in grief will sometimes ignore this disclaimer, hoping, praying that they’ll be connected to someone they miss deeply. If grief is deep enough and hope is lost enough, a person might look for any means to make sense of the inexplicable.
And now, I wonder, could the same idea be connected to an Atheist view of certain organized religions? Religious leaders may claim to communicate with or to understand the dead. They may offer a means of communicating with the great beyond. And without any evidence to back up their intentions, are they committing fraud against a large group of people as well? Their audiences are also eager to find connection to the afterlife, to have death made more understandable, and they are in some ways offering the same service that Edward provides. The main distinction, I would argue, is that Edward is using grief and confusion to make money, while religious leaders’ intentions are more substantial.
However, one could argue that neither organized religion nor Edward is necessarily wrong in claiming to connect with the dead. In both cases, a willing and hopeful audience is submitting to a leader’s direction, hoping to gain some sort of insight into the afterlife, be it true or false. Does it hurt a churchgoer to be told that her loved ones are waiting for her in Heaven? Does it hurt an Edward audience member to believe that she has closure with a deceased nephew? This could be debated, but I would argue that if a person is torn up with grief and is willing to accept Edward’s reading, she has the right to turn to him to find peace of mind.
Oftentimes the episodes end with “catching up,” in which audience participants discuss how great it felt to hear from their loved ones. For these people, if it makes the grieving process at all more bearable, then I see the benefit, but not necessarily the benefit of these interactions being broadcast on television. I don’t necessarily extend the benefits of believing in an organized religion to the benefits of believing in Edward. But, in the words of PT Barnum, “more persons, on the whole, are humbugged by believing in nothing, than by believing too much.”
So, if these people are looking for comfort and something to believe, I’m not sure why they’d choose Edward, but it seems wrong to assume that they shouldn’t.
Leave a Reply