Trying to Give Away a Million Dollars

There are those who imagine that I’m perhaps not quite able to solve trickery and to avoid being deceived by it. Examples of my actual record on this matter abound, and I’ll rest on those laurels. My approach to solving claims is always very basic. For example, if my neighbor says he has a goat on his property, I’m not at all surprised, and can verify that claim easily by direct observation. After all, I live in the state of Florida, and I might expect such a critter to trot by. However, if that neighbor claims to have a pet unicorn, I would have serious doubts, which could, of course, be soon dispelled upon my encountering the beast and testing whether the expected horn is actually an integral organic attachment. I’m always willing to be shown.

To emphasize this attitude—which is firmly shared by the James Randi Educational Foundation (JREF) that I represent—we established the Million-Dollar Challenge. This prize is rather significant in size, but it’s hardly the first such, several of which were offered on a very much reduced scale by the famous magician Harry Houdini and several European magicians, but the first offer by a prominent academically-recognized authority may belong to a magazine. Back in 1922, well before I was born, an announcement—very much inspired by the debunking activities of Houdini—appeared in the December, 1922, issue Scientific American Magazine, the still widely-popular science magazine: 

Announcing $5000 For Psychic Phenomena

As a contribution toward psychic research, the Scientific American pledges the sum of $5000 to be awarded for conclusive psychic manifestations. 

On the basis of existing data we are unable to reach a definite conclusion as to the validity of psychic claims. In the effort to clear up this confusion, and to present our readers with first-hand and authenticated information regarding this most baffling of all studies, we are making this offer. 

The Scientific American will pay $2500 [$32,000 in today’s dollars] to the first person who produces a psychic photograph under its test conditions and to the full satisfaction of the eminent men who will act as judges. 

The Scientific American will pay $2500 to the first person who produces a visible psychic manifestation of other character, under these conditions and to the full satisfaction of these judges. Purely mental phenomena like telepathy, or purely auditory ones like rappings, will not be eligible for this award. The contest does not revolve about the psychological or religious aspects of the phenomena, but has to do only with genuineness and objective reality. 

This is merely a preliminary announcement. The names of the judges, the conditions applying to the seances, the period for which this offer will remain open, etc., will appear in our January issue. 

You’ll note that “psychic photographs” are specified here, being then a very popular paranormal claim. The media were charmed by nebulous photos turned out by such frauds and were regularly running stories on the latest snapshots of ectoplasm spewing from the mouths of spiritualists. But I’m somewhat surprised by the 4th paragraph above, where “telepathy” is exempted from the category of eligible wonders, and appears to have been accepted by the Scientific American editors as proven. The term “ESP” had not yet been invented, but the transference of thoughts between minds seems to have been assumed to be a scientific reality at that period of history. 

Yes, the JREF million-dollar prize was partially inspired by the SciAm offer, and encouraged by similar prizes offered from around the world. At present, there are more than a dozen queries from individuals who applied for the million-dollar JREF prize, though the actual handling of the prize applications is now being managed by my magician friend Banachek (Steve Shaw) who certainly has the experience to oversee that tricky task. That sumptuous award grew from a mere $1,000 that I first offered in response to a challenge thrown before me on a radio program in New York City back about 1968. I was in heated discussion with a parapsychologist and two other chaps who were trying to convince me that woo-woo was the future of our species, and the studio was vibrating with all the merriment of Grant’s tomb, when things suddenly picked up. One of the panelists suggested, “Put your money where your mouth is,” and, well, I recklessly put a thousand on the barrel-head and with trepidation, because I was pretty sure I was a bit short of that sum at my bank. About $600 or so short, I calculated. 

I must say, an offer of a thousand dollars in 1968 got the attention of those gentlemen, and early the very next day I hustled off to my bank for a loan to make up the difference. In the next few weeks there was a flurry of excitement from the media, a few applications for the prize arrived, some scribbled on shirt cardboards with pink crayons (I exaggerate) but some actually well-formulated and expressed. Soon after that, as I took on my new job as radio host of the imaginatively titled Randi Show, which gave me an audience of some 38 states (and parts of Canada) that number of applications increased. A couple of them came from high-profile claimants of paranormal, occult, or supernatural powers. 

With the founding of the James Randi Educational Foundation, the prize amount jumped to $1,000,000 due to a generous sponsor who wanted to make the challenge more effective and attractive, a goal that was thereby instantly achieved. It presently stands at that amount. A few of the specific claims for this prize will be mentioned here because they are cases in which the JREF is already involved, and the claimants usually smugly state that we’re terrified to test them because they will surely snap up the prize in a trice. 

Let’s begin with the current champion staller in this galaxy of pretenders, Ms. Sylvia Browne—her case is by far the longest-standing one. On the Larry King Live show of September 3, 2001, Ms. Browne agreed, on live international television, to be tested by the JREF under conditions that had been outlined in detail earlier on that same broadcast. She made no conditions of her own. She did not hesitate one bit. She accepted all the conditions I offered, much to my surprise. 

Well, that was the last time that I heard from Sylvia Browne, ten years ago! Some months after that Larry King Live broadcast, she was contacted by the media, who understandably were curious about the progress of the challenge. Ms. Brown told them that she didn’t know how to reach me. Hold on! She talks to dead people, and she can’t communicate with me? Sylvia, I’m in the phone book. Googlecurrently has half a million references to me, most of which provide my e-mail address, my telephone number, and/or several different ways whereby I can be found among living, breathing, persons. And you can’t reach me?

Trying to remedy this communication problem, I took great pains to be sure that Sylvia received—by registered, signed-for mail—all possible addresses, numbers, and other ways whereby I could be reached, including contacts for both my living relatives! Next, she retreated to the position that she didn’t want to reach me “because he’s a godless man.” Surely that would be all the more reason that she’d want to snap up the prize, wouldn’t you think? To snatch a million dollars from a lowdown atheist should be a major coup for this god-fearing woman! In any case, to this day, Sylvia Browne has never reached me to take me up on this long-standing million-dollar challenge which she so eagerly and publicly accepted. Strange, don’t you think? 

To reiterate, just in case she or one of her followers happens to read this, I hereby challenge Sylvia Browne to: 

1. absolutely, definitively, prove her powers before a live international audience, 
2. thereby fulfill her promise to be tested, 
3. make James Randi and the JREF look foolish, and 
4. carry off our million-dollar prize. 

Hello? Sylvia? Where are you? E-mail, regular postal (certified) mail, faxes, phone calls, and notices on the Internet—all have failed to elicit any further answer from Sylvia Browne. Could it be that she is just so busy with her “readings”—currently at $750 for a 20-minute phone conference, but subject to immediate change in an upward direction—that she cannot invest another thirty minutes in our test? In case that’s the way things are, I’ve agreed to personally pay the $750 fee to Sylvia to offset her possible loss of the million. Still, she will not respond! I leave the conclusion to my readers. 

Acceptance of such a challenge by a guru, sorcerer, psychic, or any sort of wonder-worker, is very rare.

Similar comments would apply to James Van Praagh and John Edward, both of whom also claim to be able to communicate with the dead. Neither has ever responded to our inquiries, and the latter’s agent merely answered us with a single sentence: “Mr. Edward does not respond to criticism.” Classic. 

Acceptance of such a challenge by a guru, sorcerer, psychic, or any sort of wonder-worker, is very rare. Sylvia, Uri, John and the others know better than to agree to such a confrontation, and it goes on and on. I’ll offer a few of my own comments on the string of canards that are strewn throughout the exchanges I see being repeated on so many Internet sites regarding the claimed unavailability of the JREF Prize. Now, I don’t expect that any attention will be paid to these comments of mine, because the woo-woos desperately need to deny the fact that the JREF prize is actually real, available, and winnable—if and when the evidence is produced. 

As for any testing process conducted by the JREF on any machine, idea, theory, system, chemical, potion, or other Earth-shaking invention or discovery, any “bias” or lack of expertise or capability on our part cannot ever enter into the testing procedure, since the testing is done by mutually-agreed-upon experts, not I, nor any of the JREF staff. We simply put the money up for grabs, the experts use the protocol, and we are legally obligated to pay over the prize money; we don’t have any choice in that matter. 

When we investigate, we essentially don’t know whether or not the claim is true, though we certainly have certain expectations; we try to find out, which is the real scientific approach. 

We don’t “debunk,” which would imply that we go into an investigation with the attitude that “This isn’t true, and we’re going to prove that it’s not true.” We investigate, and publish the results. When we investigate, we essentially don’t know whether or not the claim is true, though we certainly have certain expectations; we try to find out, which is the real scientific approach. 

Ever since the million-dollar challenge was first issued, the Grubbies have hammered away at it, obviously unable to handle the reality it represents, and their attacks and rationalizations have been—understandably—consistent. A number of persons with “psychic” aspirations or delusions who claim to have assisted in police investigations, have approached us for the JREF prize. In regard to the specific category of “police psychics,” it should be said that this is a very popular notion, that certain persons really assist in police investigations by giving supernaturally-obtained information. This delusion occurs in every country, and it usually brings heavy media attention. As reported by the BBC news service in 2009, the UK police are constantly approached by psychics whenever an event receives enough media attention that it is attractive to them as a source of publicity. 

The excuses and alibis given by those we invite to try for the JREF prize in many cases are, I must admit, rather clever. As evidence of the profundity with which the amateurs receive the JREF challenge, here are just a few of the actual reasons—from our files—that we’ve received over the years, for their not taking the challenge: 

• I can’t afford to be in a higher tax bracket. 
• I’m already rich. 
• I don’t want the money; I’m totally spiritual. 
• You wouldn’t pay me the money, anyway. 
• It’s all a lie; there is no prize. 
• It’s a trap by the CIA to identify and murder me. 
• The prize comes from the CIA (or from the communists). 
• God told me not to get into it. 
• If I win, you’ll have me killed to save paying out the money. 
• You’ll put out negative vibes to inhibit my powers. 
• Since you’re a trickster, you’ll fool me somehow. 
• It’s too much money. 
• It’s not enough money. 
• I want the money in a pile, in cash, (or a certified check) before I try. 

And it goes on and on …