You might remember that I fell hook, line, and sinker for the story of the car crash victim who told the tale of the horror he had endured over 23 years because he was “misdiagnosed as being in a coma when he was conscious the whole time.”
Over at Science Blogs, Orac — the nom de blog of a (not so) humble pseudonymous surgeon/scientist with an ego just big enough to delude himself that… etc. etc. — Orac is skeptical:
First of all, I’m not sure what to make of the claim that Houben was misdiagnosed as being in a persistent vegetative state. True, there’s no reason to doubt that that was his diagnosis for 23 years. What I find puzzling is how it was determined that Houben wasn’t in such a state and that he had in fact been completely conscious all those years. For instance, what specific tests were used to determine that his brain was functioning “almost completely normally” that couldn’t have been used several years ago?
I have to say in my defense that I did wonder if he was conscious for those 23 years, did he sleep? How did sleep differ from wakefulness? It turns out that I had mistakenly believed that his “misdiagnosis” as being hopelessly comatose was synonymous with “locked-in” syndrome. They’re different:
Locked-in syndrome is a condition, usually caused by a brainstem stroke but also sometimes caused by traumatic brain injury, in which the patient is fully aware and awake but unable to communicate because nearly all voluntary muscles are paralyzed. Usually, locked-in patients can only blink their eyes. From my perspective it is a fate worse than death.
I have to agree. But in the end, Orac says it doesn’t matter. He’s suspicious that any real communication is happening. Here’s the claim:
The method involves taking Mr Houben by the elbow and the right hand while he is seated at a specially adapted computer and feeling for minute twitches in his forefinger as his hand is guided over the letters of the alphabet. Mrs Wouters said that she could feel him recoil slightly if the letter was wrong. After three years of practice the words now come tumbling out, she said.
Here’s video. Orac says:
Look at the video…. Consider the claim and compare it to what you see. Here is someone who is rapidly going from letter to letter, yet it is claimed that Ms. Wouters is “feeling for minute twitches” in Houben’s forefinger. Does it seem plausible that these minute twitches can lead to such rapid typing, even with practice? Not to me. To me this looks like a clear case of facilitated communication. Basically, it’s the same principle as a ouija board; it’s the ideomotor effect. All it is in general is what the “facilitator” hopes or wishes it to be, whether she even realizes it or not. Examining the video, it looks to me as though part of the time Mr. Houben is not even looking at the keyboard; yet his assistant keeps typing. At one point it looks as though Mr. Houben’s eyes are closed. If that’s not enough for you, then look at this video, where it is even clearer that Houbens is not even looking at the keyboard at various points when his facilitator is typing. Consider this excerpt from the discussion of FC in The Skeptic’s Dictionary:
The Frontline program showed facilitators allegedly describing what their clients were viewing, when it was clear their clients’ heads were tilted so far back they couldn’t have been viewing anything but the ceiling. When facilitators could not see an object which their client could see (a solid screen blocked each from seeing what the other was seeing) they routinely typed out the wrong answer. Furthermore, FC clients routinely use a flat board or keyboard, over which the facilitator holds their pointing finger. Even the most expert typist could not routinely hit correct letters without some reference as a starting point. (Try looking away from your keyboard and typing a sentence using just one finger held in the air above the keyboard.) Facilitators routinely look at the keyboard; clients do not. The messages’ basic coherence indicates that they most probably are produced by someone who is looking at the keyboard.
Tell me that this isn’t what’s going on here. I sure looks like that’s what’s going on to me.
Orac suggests…
…set up a test so that Houben’s facilitator can see his arm and the keyboard but nothing else. Then show Houben a series of objects and ask him to identify them. Then see how many he gets right. If Houben is really communicating this way, then it shouldn’t matter whether the facilitator can see what Houben sees or not. All she needs to be able to see is the keyboard.
I’m thinking I was had. Snookered, even. What do you think?