I was recently reminded of the importance of bringing human-generated anomalous experimental data into formal scientific discussion forums: When human experience meets scientific evidence, lives can change.
Science conferences are all about getting together with colleagues to discuss advances in areas of mutual interest. The research discussed and presented is sometimes outside the day-to-day activities of these scientists’ regular “day jobs.” In these instances, it is their passion for the subjects presented that brings them together. Such was the case at one in Albuquerque this February: STAIF, or Space Technology & Applications International Forum. Within this multi-conference gathering is a small group of elite technical engineers and physicists who focus specifically on advanced propulsion systems for future space exploration technologies. Known affectionately as the “F Section,” their group is formally called “Symposium on New Frontiers and Future Concepts” and this was their fifth and last year to meet.
Knowing STAIF would be no longer, I decided to attend and update my friends and colleagues on our lab’s experimental progress since I last attended. My research fits within the parameter of the goals and objectives of this group, as they do investigate ‘anomalies in nature.’ However, even by some members of the F Section, my research is considered fringe. Regardless, since the experimental evidence I present is well within the sanctioned parameters of the American Institute of Physics, the majority of this group welcomes my participation.
I arrived the night before my scheduled presentation time, spent most of the evening preparing, then greeted everyone at the early morning ‘speakers breakfast.’ My presentation was scheduled during the first session beginning at 8:00 am and was sandwiched between two Q & A’s on theoretical emergent gravity. Afterwards during the break, I excused myself and went back to my room to pack, as my flight was scheduled for that afternoon and I wanted to spend as much time as possible sitting in sessions before meeting my plane home.
On my way back to the second session, rolling suitcase in hand, I was stopped by one of the attendees. I knew who he was and was familiar with his research as I was with all of the attendees’. He asked me point blank why I was doing what I was doing. I gave him my standard response: In my observation, the current theories of gravity were inadequate to explain everyday gravitational anomalies and I present my experimental research regularly to a wide variety of scientific forums to open up discussions on these anomalies. I discovered he was hearing a presentation of this research for the very first time and had not attended my previous STAIF presentation in 2006. I knew from previous experience to expect a predictable list of technical questions and I prepared myself to answer them all. However, our conversation ended up going in a direction I didn’t expect.
“I think there may be another group of people worthy of testing,” he stated. Usually when this type of comment is offered to me, what follows is the suggestion that I should test Buddhist Monks. However, I’m not particularly interested in pursuing that suggestion. I already have a pool of talented students from Ramtha’s School of Enlightenment who possess all the requisite skill sets I need to achieve rigorous experimental results. That day, instead of reacting to the first part of his statement, I simply listened to what he had to say.
“I’m a pilot and I think that I have experienced some of the anomalies that you are talking about. I think that in the extreme circumstances fighter pilots often face, I have seen reality blip in and out around me and I believe that some of those effects were gravitational in nature.”
As an experimentalist introducing human-generated data into the elite environment of world-class technical scientists, I have often witnessed a kind of happiness from those finally able to speak in safety with a colleague about their own personal experiences. It’s almost a subversive excitement to be able to discuss fringy-type anomalies; things that have yet to be explained by the current scientific knowledge and understanding. Regardless, there was something unique about this man’s discussion with me, and I moved the conversation to the first data file I showed on the screen during my presentation.
It is the figure for a forty-five minute long file collected in a completely uncontrolled environment. A friend was asked to sit on my early experimental platform during a focused-discipline as I simply wanted to test my instrumentation and see what would happen. He sat almost completely still, focused on the flame of a candle some seventy feet away from him. He was relaxed and surrendered to the process, something that he had been trained to do.
Almost immediately my data logger showed a notable decrease in mass (weight). In the first seven minutes, the mass decreased the equivalent of almost two pounds and maintained that level until immediately before the file ended, at which point the data logger sharply recovered to the zero starting base line. I immediately bent over to my experimental subject friend and asked what he did. His reply was, “I don’t know. All of a sudden, I was back in my body.”
I generally open my scientific presentations with that file, not because the 1.5% deviation in mass was valid experimental data, but because it was the file that inspired me to pursue the development of an experimental process able to meet rigorous and publishable protocols.
Standing outside the F Section conference meeting room with a scientist who had openly admitted that he thought he had personally experienced the phenomena I just presented, I told him the story behind the data. And then I added, “The man who was the experimental subject for that first, dramatic file had been an F-16 pilot earlier in his life.”
The moment I informed this expilot/ scientist that another military trained fighter pilot had created that experimental file, I observed his shift. I was no longer standing in front of a man who still questioned the veracity of his own personal experiences, but one who now accepted it as valid and scientific. He had moved beyond the nebulous state of possibility and no longer needed to hold his personal experience in “faith.” And as I watched him integrate, I knew from that day forward he would view all scientific data, all experimental research results with the eyes and mind of a man who had transformed a personal experience into wisdom: humans do interface with physical reality in ways that science has yet to completely account for and rigorous, repeatable evidence shows this is so.
There exists a deep satisfaction in presenting experimental data to openminded scientists, but it is another thing altogether to watch a scientist absorb a life-changing experience: the moment when scientific theory and personal experience meet. I am moved by such experiences and they become touchstones by which to remember why it is so important to continue to bring data forward and work towards broadening and advancing scientific theorem to include human interface with physical matter. This experience was a reminder to keep going.
Danielle Graham conducts experimental research focused on human-generated gravitational and electromagnetic anomalies and is published by the American Institute of Physics.
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Have you ever experienced something unexplainable that touched and changed your life?