All language subtitles for The Primacy of Consciousness (2022) 720p GAIA x264.ENG

[MUSIC PLAYING]

My name is Brenda
Dunne, and for 28 years,

I served as the laboratory
manager of the Princeton

Engineering Anomalies
Research, or PEAR program,

at Princeton University.

I worked with
Professor Robert Jahn,

who spent 15 years as dean
of the School of Engineering.

He was an aerospace scientist.

He had become interested
in looking at human machine

anomalies, and he was
able to get funding for it

from a colleague of his in
the aerospace business, James

McDonnell, who was the patriarch
of McDonnell Aircraft Company.

He felt that it was important
for an aerospace point of view

to understand this because they
were so-called gremlins that

were observed sometimes
in aircraft under very

tense emotional
situations, and he thought

we needed to understand it.

He told Bob, if you set
up a program at Princeton,

I'll fund it.

And then when Bob and
I met at a conference

where I was giving a talk
about my remote viewing work,

he told me he was
setting up the program,

asked me if I'd be interested
in working with him.

And I said, I sure would.

So anyway, that's
how we started.

This was back in 1979.

People came in and always
looked surprised to find this

in the engineering school.

We had three main
portions-- one of them

was a series of experiments
in what we called

a human machine anomalies.

These were a function sort
of like coin flipping.

If you flip a coin,
you have a 50-50 chance

of a head or a tail.

In these experiments, you had a
50-50 chance of a one or a zero

or a ball that bounced to
the left or to the right.

And people would just try to
get more ones or more zeros

or just let the machine run
in a controlled condition

without thinking anything.

So the primary variable that
we studied in these experiments

was human intention,
and the intentions

were recorded ahead of time,
both in a computer file

and in a log book.

All of the devices were
very carefully calibrated

so we knew that we were
dealing with processes that

were reliable, that
left to themselves

would produce a random output.

The idea was we would just
tell people, try to get

the mean high or the mean low.

It was a statistical process.

But over many hundreds
or thousands or indeed,

millions of binary
events, you could

get a distribution output.

And you could see that the
mean of that distribution

was ever so slightly shifted,
correlated with the intentions

that people had determined.

As I say a very tiny effect, but
over many millions of trials,

a highly significant effect
that could not occur by chance.

Particularly if the machine is
going this way when people want

it to go that way and
going this way when

they want it to go
this way, there's

no way that you can
explain that otherwise.

It's also important
to point out that when

we talk to our participants,
they frequently would tell us,

there's more to having an
intention to make this work.

I have to have an emotional
connection with the process.

I have to feel like the machine
is an extension of myself.

I have to develop a relationship
with the device that

is meaningful.

It's more than just intention.

We realized very early on
that although we thought

we were studying,
or we had set out

to study the effect or the
vulnerability of engineering

systems, we realized
that we were looking

at something far more profound.

We were looking at
how can consciousness,

how can non-sensory
intention have

a tangible and measurable
effect on a physical system.

The second part of
our program was a body

of research in remote viewing.

There would be two
people involved.

One would be an agent
who would go out

to some assigned-- randomly
assigned location somewhere

without knowing ahead of time.

Just get an envelope that
would say go to the duh, duh,

duh, duh at such
and such a time.

The other person is
called the percipient

would be somewhere else,
sometimes thousands of miles

away.

Their task was to
try to visualize,

try to sense where the agent was
located at the assigned time.

So we explored probably
a couple of dozen

different analytical
algorithms or recipes.

We felt we wanted to get
a more quantitative handle

on how much information
was actually acquired.

In the course of that, we
generated some several hundred

trials.

And even by any
standard, the results

came out to be way beyond
what chance would predict--

what you would get if
you were just guessing.

If consciousness can
acquire information

without any sensory
input independently

of time or distance,
then consciousness

is not in the brain.

Consciousness
somehow is out there,

and we are tapping into it.

It can't be the brain.

In fact, it seems to work best
when you turn your brain off.

When you're quiet and you stop
thinking and stop trying to--

where would he be likely to
be, what do I know about him,

but just shut it down.

I sometimes have
told people, try

imagining you're
in a movie theater

and there's this dark screen.

And at some point,
a movie is going

to come up on that screen,
and you're going to see it.

Don't try to predict what
the movie is going to be.

Just wait until it
starts showing itself.

It worked more often than--
it shouldn't work at all.

Logically, it shouldn't work.

The third part of the
program was our attempt

to try to figure out what was
going on because it was clear

that these phenomena
could not be explained

by any known model or concept,
so that was kind of fun.

Of course, there has been
criticism of the PEAR work

over the years.

There still is because
what we are demonstrating

is inconsistent with the
prevailing worldview,

particularly the prevailing
scientific worldview.

We have had criticisms
that have dealt

with the design
of our equipment,

with the protocols we've used,
with the analytical techniques

we've used.

But we have been
very, very careful

to make sure that
those were not factors.

There is a saying--

I think it was from Friedrich
Nietzsche, the philosopher, who

said, I should love my
enemy because he brings out

the best in me.

And because we knew
that people were always

going to look for some
slip up, some error,

we were very, very careful.

All of the devices
were very carefully

calibrated to be sure
that they were not

subject to any kind of artifact,
temperature, vibrations, air

pressure, whatever it may be.

But most importantly,
the experiments we did

consisted of very
large databases.

There was somebody
who once said,

this is something I wouldn't
believe even if it was true.

How do you argue
with that logically?

OK.

There is a big difference
between science

as a method of
learning and scientism,

which is a dogma that
says, we know everything

that is necessary to
know, and anything

that doesn't fit into our model
has to be wrong by definition.

I am a big fan of the
method of science,

which I think is a great
way to learn and to discover

new insights in a
particular phenomenon.

I am a great enemy of scientism.

I've heard that from people
who said, but if you're right,

then I'd be wrong.

And I'd say, no, just
you'd be incomplete.

There's more.

The quantum mechanics
principles even

acknowledge that observation
is an important part

of the construction of reality.

The scientific community,
which, by the way,

would not even allow the words,
"consciousness" when we started

in 1979, now accepts that
consciousness is important,

but their way of going
about trying to study it

is to look in the brain.

They are persuaded
that it's something

that the brain generates
through its neuronal activity

and whatnot.

They're having fun doing
it, but they're not

going to find consciousness
inside the brain.

Consciousness is
something much vaster.

And I think many
of the phenomena,

such as out-of-body experiences
or near-death experiences

or precognition, indicate
that consciousness is not

dependent upon the
brain, but the brain

is dependent upon consciousness.

It's as if our brains
work sort of like a radio.

There's all these
frequencies and amplitudes

filling this room,
but we're not going

to pick up on them unless we
have a device that we can tune

into a particular
set of signals,

and then we can pick that up.

But the program
isn't in the radio.

The radio is just a
transducer of those signals,

and that's what I
think our brains do.

The universe, if
you will imagine,

is just this vast
field of potentiality.

Nothing absolute but
just possibilities.

Then consciousness
comes and organizes

that into whatever
it wants it to be.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

It's really rather sad that
from the time we're very young

and we start to
learn language, we

tend more and more
in recent years

to emphasize the
analytical processes.

What happened to imagination?

What happened to poetry?

What happened to music?

Children should be
allowed to just play.

They should be allowed to
go out and look at nature

and experience it and look at
the flowers look at the birds.

And yet we're told, oh,
don't worry about that.

Or, oh, I had a wonderful
dream-- oh, it's just a dream.

Don't pay attention to it.

It's just your imagination.

And it's denigrated.

The most creative side of
our being is dismissed,

and this, I think, is very sad.

Maybe it's part of why we have
such problems in our culture

with young people getting
depressed or getting

suicidal or feeling stressed.

They don't seem to have a
sense of meaning, a sense

of connection with the world.

They don't know how to dream.

We have two basic modes.

There's a subjective
mode of experience

that allows us to
immerse ourselves

in a beautiful sunset,
in a concert, in love.

And somehow or other, we have
lost our sense of identity,

and we have become one.

And then there is the
analytical side that says,

I've got to try to describe
this piece of music.

I've got to try to describe
how I feel about my loved one.

But the description
isn't the experience.

We have to do both.

If all we're doing is
describing abstract stuff,

we're not living.

And of course, if all
we're doing is experiencing

and we're not describing,
then we're sort of airheads.

But I think it all comes
from the same dynamic, what

the ancients, the Taoists,
call the yin yang.

They're not separate.

They're just two ways of
perceiving or interacting

that come together,
and that dynamic

is the source of
everything that becomes.

One of the most important
parts of the PEAR lab

was the dynamic between
Bob and me, yin and yang.

We were very different.

Bob was very much
the scientist--

very analytical, very rigorous.

I was very much the philosopher,
the mythology reader.

But we complemented each other.

We each brought to the program
a different perspective,

without which the program
never would have happened.

We actually wrote a book
called "Molecular Memories"

that described some of this.

The energy of the molecule
tends to be greater

than the sum of the energy
of the constituent parts.

Neither of us could
have done PEAR alone.

But coming together
and sharing that

and working together and
respecting one another,

which is very important.

I was the one who interacted
more with the participants.

I encouraged them.

I made them feel at home.

I made them feel comfortable.

That was important.

They were part of our family.

Bob was the one that was very
scrupulous in checking out

the statistics and the
analysis and the technology.

I think we need both of those.

For many millions of years,
we didn't separate ourselves

from our environment.

In order to survive,
we became familiar.

We resonated with
the natural world.

We understood the
intelligence of the animals.

We understood the nature
of the changing seasons.

I don't think my consciousness
is separate from the world.

I feel as if I am a part of it.

And through that
sense of connection,

I can have a feeling about
what is going on around me.

One has to have a
sense of connection

and belonging to
the bigger picture,

and this is what
we need to learn.

We have to go back to some
of that early knowledge, some

of that intuitive knowledge.

We are not only
thinking creatures,

we're intuitive creatures.

There is nobody
that I can imagine

who doesn't at some point
say, I don't feel good

about this situation, or this is
a very attractive opportunity.

What makes it attractive?

What makes it not feel good?

Is it something
intellectual, or is it

a gut feeling that makes you
be drawn to some situations

and wanting to avoid others?

One of the books that we
published through our ICRL

Press is called "Syntrophy--

The Spirit of Love."

It postulates that there is
a principle called synthropy,

which is the complement
of the principle we

know called entropy.

So entropy comes from
the past to the present

and makes things
more and more complex

and eventually breaks them
down and eliminates them.

They becomes chaos.

Syntrophy comes from the
future, from a completed event

with the energy that goes
back into the present.

And we'll draw from
the present, whatever

is needed to fulfill and
manifest that completed image.

So in a sense, entropy is
the spirit of division.

Syntropy is the
spirit of integration.

Again, it's not either.

They're complements.

The world consists
of this dynamic,

of things falling apart
and things coming together.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

That is difficult.
It is very hard

to convince somebody to take
on a different worldview.

Many years ago, I had this
conversation with Bob Jahn,

and we talked about this.

And I said, given
human nature, given

its greedy, self-serving
style of being,

how are you ever going to
convince these people to love?

From the beginning
of time, there

have been these
great teachers who

have come along and preached
how we should love one another,

and what good has it done?

And Bob said something I
think was very profound.

He said, the only
way you're going

to get people to love one
another is when you can

persuade them that it's in their
own greedy, self-serving best

interest to do so.

They need to recognize
that if they don't do it,

they're in deep trouble.

You do it because you have to.

You do it because it's the
only option you've got left.

When the despair
becomes so great,

either you're going to
get depressed and end up

committing suicide,
or you're going

to have some kind
of an epiphany,

some kind of an insight
that suddenly white light,

and you go, oh.

I remember a story
a friend of mine

told of her father who had
been a career Marine, this very

serious old guy,
but he was dying.

She was sitting at his
bedside, holding his hand.

He was asleep.

And at one point,
he opened his eyes,

and he looked at her very alert.

And he said, you know what?

It's all about love, isn't it?

And it has to come like that.

You can't tell people that.

You can't preach it to them.

In my own experience, it
was that kind of a thing.

I was very depressed.

I was a very unhappy
young person.

I just felt that nothing
was going to happen.

I had spent my life trying
to please other people.

And no matter how hard I tried,
I wasn't able to please them.

They were always critical.

And then I had this
sudden insight that said,

you've got to stop trying
to please other people.

Because even if you
do, it's not you

that they're going to accept.

They're accepting that false
face that you're putting on,

and that's not going
to make you happy.

Wouldn't you be better off
just being who you really are?

And then if people don't like
you, they don't like you.

But the people who do
like you really like you.

We spend so much of
our lives reacting

to this terrorizing threat
of what will people think.

But pleasing somebody by
being false is not love,

and demanding that somebody
behave a certain way

so you would love them,
that's not love either.

Love is being who you are
and accepting other people

for who they are.

How do you get there?

I don't know.

There were days when I find the
circumstances in our society

terrifying.

Other days, I find
it hilariously funny.

It's so bad that
it's really funny.

There's a part of us
that is destructive,

that wants to break things
down and create chaos.

And there is a part
of us that wants

to be drawn together, to
be part of a social group,

to be in love, to be
part of something bigger.

We have to choose which
path we're going to follow.

They're both there
potentially, and we're all

going to have days when we
go this way and days when

we go that way.

But at some level,
we have to choose

which path we're going
to make a commitment to.

What does that?

What is it within us that makes
us choose which path to follow?

I don't know.

But I think we do
have free will.

I think we can choose.

I mentioned earlier, I had
a very unpleasant childhood.

OK, I was not a happy kid.

I know people who
have had experiences,

early experiences akin to what
I had and they become bitter.

They become angry, resentful,
and they carry that pain

with them all their lives.

I didn't.

I kind of got out of it
and decided this is not

a very productive way to go.

I'm not hurting
anybody but myself.

We're not going to be
able to love others

until we can love
ourselves, and we're not

taught to love ourselves.

We're taught to be
critical of ourselves.

We're taught to compete.

We're taught to live up to
other people's-- we don't love

ourselves.

And we're not going
to love ourselves

until we accept ourselves
for who we are and say, hey,

it's OK.

I may not be
perfect, but I'm me.

My colleague, Robert Jahn passed
away almost two years ago.

His brain is no
longer functioning,

but I feel his presence.

I feel his consciousness
because we were so close.

We worked together.

We understood each other.

We had such an intense
dynamic for so long.

I know his consciousness
is still there,

and there are times
when I have a thought,

and I get a sense of,
no, that's not right,

and I know it's
Bob talking to me.

There's a lot of evidence
that consciousness is not over

just because the body is.

And there's no way you're
going to convince people

who are skeptical of it,
and I don't feel the need

to try to convince them.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

We are expressions
of the life force.

We are the manifestation of this
dynamic between consciousness

and potentiality, the universe
wanting to experience itself.

There's something precious
about being a part of the whole

and recognizing that
there is a whole.

I'm not here all alone.

I'm not just here without some
purpose, or why am I here.

Who am I?

What difference does it make?

Maybe I should shoot myself.

No, I have a purpose
to serve and that

is to contribute in whatever
way I can to this whole.

To be as good a
little cell as I can

be because that will
enhance the health

of the big organism
in some way even

though I don't understand it.

Where people get into a
different state of mind,

and suddenly they see that
everything's really connected.

It isn't all separate pieces.

It's all one big unit.

You just realize that
you're just one little piece

of the whole, and all of
the pieces are connected,

and it's beautiful.

It gives you such a
wonderful warm feeling

of purpose and meaning.

It doesn't last very long.

You usually come back down
to Earth, so to speak,

and you remember that you've
got to go to the grocery store

or you've got to
go wash the dishes.

But it carries back
with you some harmony,

some piece of that that
says, I had that experience.

I don't have to doubt it.

I don't have to worry
about somebody else

or depend on someone
else describing it.

I've seen it, I've known
it, and I know it's real.

[MUSIC PLAYING]