In December 1954, a close-knit group of believers were anxiously awaiting the arrival of the flying saucer that was to save them from an apocalyptic flood they believed would destroy the USA. The Chicago UFO cult predicted that the whole continent would be submerged on 21 December, though the true believers would be whisked away to safety by spaceships from the planet Clarion.
The group knew all this because their leader, Chicago housewife Marian Keech, was getting messages from Sananda, who was an alien incarnation of Jesus Christ. These messages came in the form of automatic writing, in which Sananda would take control of Mrs Keech’s hand and write messages of cosmic wisdom, as well as the dire doomsday prediction. Another member of the group, Bertha Blatsky, went one better – she channelled The Creator.
Also among this flying saucer cult were several psychologists, observing the group incognito. They wanted to see what would happen when the flying saucers didn’t come and the world didn’t end. How would the believers cope with the disappointment? How would they explain it? The resulting book, When Prophecy Fails (1956) by Leon Festinger, Henry Rieken and Stanley Schachter, became a psychological classic.[i]
When the time came for the alien saviours to appear, the believers had to remove everything metal about their person, including belt buckles, jewellery, buttons and zips. The flying saucers didn’t allow metal aboard, presumably for some cosmic health and safety reasons. With only a few minutes before a saucer was expected, one of the authors realised he had not cut the zip off his trousers. In a tense moment, a believer with trembling hands slashed out the zip with a razor and finished the job with wire cutters just in time.
But nothing happened. The saviours from space didn’t show. And, like in Waiting For Godot, they didn’t just wait for nothing to happen once.
So what happens when prophecy fails? What would you do when confronted with glaring evidence that what you believe so deeply is wrong?
When the saucers failed to show in December 1954, some members did walk away from the group. But the true believers didn’t. Perhaps, they reasoned, the prediction was just a drill or a rehearsal to test their readiness. Perhaps the message had been misinterpreted by the group. It could be that the reporters and onlookers gathered outside Keech’s house were deterring the aliens. It was just a delay. ‘No plan has gone astray’, were the enigmatic words sent by Space Jesus to comfort the believers.
Finally, it was decided that because of the spiritual light and faith of the believers, God had intervened and prevented the flood. They had saved the world. They had to spread the word about this miracle, and frantically informed the media of the good news.
The saucers failed to come, the world failed to end but the true believers continued with strengthened belief despite the evidence to the contrary.
The words of one believer, Dr Armstrong, are revealing:
I’ve given up just about everything. I’ve cut every tie: I’ve burned every bridge. I’ve turned my back on the world. I can’t afford to doubt. I have to believe. And there isn’t any other truth.[ii]
As Festinger et al noted, not only were these beliefs deeply held, the believers had committed themselves by taking important actions that are difficult to undo. They had left families, quit jobs, dropped out of education, and bet everything on their certainty. However, the key to their beliefs strengthening after the failed prophecies is the social support the group offered each other in the face of each disconfirmation of their beliefs.
The group finally splintered. Complaints by neighbours led to the police informing Keech’s husband (who was a heretic) that if meetings did not stop they would raid the house and that his wife would face detention in a mental institution.
The depressing truth is that when a narrative that we’ve invested in collapses before our eyes, we tend to believe in it even more vehemently whatever the absurdities and contradictions we’re confronted with. And this is especially true if everyone in our community agrees.
Imagine a medical treatment designed to prevent you catching a disease. You have the treatment, and you still get the disease. You repeat the treatment, and get the illness again. You would probably ignore the evidence and conclude that the treatment is working.
Imagine pouring billions of dollars’ worth of arms into an impossible war. When the war is not won, more weapons and cash follow. When the war is still not won, you would probably ignore the death and destruction and conclude that what’s required is more of the same.
With the UFO cult from 1950s Chicago, every time the spacemen didn’t show up, a few members made the painful decision to walk away. Perhaps that leaves some room for optimism. They refused to take part in the lie.
Our leaders know it’s a sign of political weakness to abandon their beliefs in the face of evidence. Better to censor the evidence, or at least ignore or distract from it.
But the flying saucers aren’t going to save them.
[i] Leon Festinger, Henry Rieken and Stanley Schachter When Prophecy Fails (Pinter and Martin, 1956)
[ii] Ibid p.170
Paul Weatherhead 