The Unbearable Fear of Psi: When Skepticism Shifts to Denial

Personal Perspective: How emotional reactions shape scientific gatekeeping.

Posted March 6, 2026 | Reviewed by Tyler Woods

When I first began studying extraordinary human experiences, I expected skepticism. After all, science progresses through criticism, replication, and debate. Skepticism is an essential part of the scientific method itself.

What I encountered, however, was something different: reactions that went beyond scientific critique and seemed to reflect a deeper discomfort with certain topics of investigation. Over the years, I came across responses that exceeded ordinary scientific disagreement. Some were subtle; others were remarkably direct.

One reviewer, evaluating a manuscript on remote viewing, simply wrote: “This is pseudoscience. Remote viewing is indistinguishable from random guessing.” Another reviewer of the same manuscript repeated, twenty-four times: “The request for a 100-word review [sic] to reject pseudoscience is ABUSE of reviewer time,” followed by 101 exclamation points. The comment offered no methodological critique of the study—only a childish dismissal. The editor then advised me to reconsider my professional trajectory if I intended to continue conducting this kind of research.

Early in my career , I had already encountered rejection and disbelief from colleagues. When I mentioned studying extrasensory perception in out-of-body experiences, a well-known consciousness researcher responded that such work “could not be done because it simply could not be true.” A former supervisor once joked, upon hearing about a prize-winning essay I had written on evidence for life after death¹: “How did you find 25,000 words to write about something that doesn’t exist?”

These reactions illustrate something curious: the emotional intensity that often accompanies discussions about psi. They also echo a pattern described by psychologist Etzel Cardeña in a notable article published more than a decade ago but, unfortunately, still relevant today: “The Unbearable Fear of Psi: On Scientific Suppression in the 21st Century.”²

When skepticism turns into censorship

Skepticism is essential to science. Good scientists are trained skeptics. We design experiments (theoretically) because we assume our intuitions may be wrong. We test hypotheses, question our interpretations, and attempt to replicate findings. Skepticism asks questions and demands evidence. Skepticism, however, is not the same as denial .

A skeptic should ask: What does the evidence suggest? Could there be another explanation? How can we test this more rigorously?

A denialist begins from a different point: This cannot be true.

From that point onward, the role of evidence disappears. Experiments may be dismissed before they are even conducted. Results may be rejected before they are analyzed. And in some cases, researchers themselves become targets of ridicule simply for asking the question. The difference lies in openness : skepticism is curious; denial is closed. And often, fear seems to play a role in that closure.

In his article, Cardeña argues that psi research frequently encounters forms of resistance that go beyond normal scientific criticism. These may include unusual publication barriers, disproportionate accusations, or the academic marginalization of researchers who study the topic. Cardeña documents several such episodes. In one case, an article accepted in a physics journal was reportedly required to remove all data related to parapsychology before publication. In another case, a Nobel Prize laureate was temporarily disinvited from a scientific conference because of his interest in psi research.

According to Cardeña, there are only two circumstances that would justify academic censorship. The first is when scientific knowledge could be directly used to cause significant harm—for example, detailed information on how to weaponize a virus or construct a weapon of mass destruction. The second is when communication directly incites violence against others. Given these criteria, a natural question arises: in what sense would psi research fall into either category?

As Cardeña argues, attempts to censor or suppress controversial research may reveal something paradoxical: not an excess of confidence in science, but a lack of it. Science, after all, is meant to be a process of open inquiry—one in which evidence, rather than prior belief, guides which questions deserve investigation.

Unfortunately, I know these dynamics well—not only as an observer, but as someone who has also faced similar episodes throughout my career³.

Why does psi research trigger such reactions?

Faced with this recurring pattern, an important question arises: why would a controversial hypothesis provoke reactions that sometimes resemble ideological conflict and passion more than scientific debate? Cardeña suggests several possibilities.

One is that the hypothesis of psi challenges deeply rooted assumptions about the relationship between mind and brain. If mental processes could sometimes access information beyond known sensory channels—even rarely—this would raise complex questions about the nature of consciousness and the limits of current scientific models (see a previous post of mine: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/beyond-the-ordinary/202501/expl… ). Even the possibility that our models might be incomplete can generate discomfort.

Another possibility is psychological: people often react defensively when confronted with phenomena that appear to contradict their worldview. The more deeply a theoretical framework is tied to our understanding of reality, the more threatening observations that do not fit within it may appear.

Why is it so difficult to change someone’s worldview?

Changing someone’s view of reality—what philosophers call an ontological perspective —is particularly difficult because our beliefs about how the world works are built gradually over the course of life and become deeply embedded in how we think, feel, and relate to others.

From childhood onward, we begin constructing an internal “map” of how the world works. This map helps us interpret everything we experience. Once these structures are established, they act as filters for new information. Instead of easily replacing our existing assumptions, we typically try to fit new observations into the model we already have.

Beliefs about reality are also closely tied to identity . They are rarely just abstract ideas. Often, they become intertwined with who we are, with the communities to which we belong, and with the values we defend. When a belief is connected to identity, questioning it can feel like a personal attack.

A scientist whose career has been built around a particular theory may struggle to accept evidence that contradicts it. Likewise, someone who grew up within a strong religious or cultural tradition may find it emotionally difficult to question foundational beliefs, because doing so might create tensions with family or community. In such cases, resistance to new ideas is not simply stubbornness—it is often a way of protecting one’s sense of identity and belonging.

Social influences also play a powerful role. Much of what we believe about reality does not come from direct experience, but from what is transmitted by people we trust: parents, teachers, friends, cultural traditions, and respected authorities.

In today’s digital environments, this effect can intensify. Online platforms often present people with content aligned with their prior interests and beliefs. As a result, individuals may repeatedly encounter information that reinforces their existing beliefs, while rarely encountering serious challenges to their worldview.

Revising one’s worldview also involves psychological costs. It requires cognitive effort, can generate social tensions, and often involves discomfort with acknowledging that a long-held belief may need reconsideration.

For these reasons, changing someone’s view of reality rarely depends solely on presenting better arguments or stronger evidence. Beliefs are embedded in deep cognitive structures, emotional bonds, social relationships, and cultural contexts. Significant ontological shifts usually require time, trust, dialogue, and an environment in which exploring new ideas does not threaten a person’s identity or social relationships. When ideas challenge deeply held assumptions about reality, the reaction is not always scientific debate. At times, it looks more like a psychological defense.

If that is the case, the intensity of the reactions surrounding psi research may be revealing something important—not necessarily about the phenomenon itself, but about the boundaries of what we feel comfortable allowing science to investigate.

Seen from this perspective, the central issue may not simply be whether psi exists. Perhaps the deeper question is this:

What, exactly, are we so afraid of discovering?

Rocha AC, Weiler M, Casseb RF. Mediumship as the Best Evidence for the Afterlife. Winning Essays 2023: Proof of Survival of Human Consciousness Beyond Permanent Bodily Death . Bigelow Institute for Consciousness Studies; 2023.
Cardeña E. The unbearable fear of psi: On scientific suppression in the 21st century. Journal of Scientific Exploration . 2015;29(4):601-620.
Weiler M, Casseb RF, Moreira-Almeida A. A possible case of censorship of submissions on the nature of consciousness. Journal of Anomalous Experience and Cognition . 2022;2(2):297-315.

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Marina Weiler, Ph.D., is a neuroscientist specializing in neuroimaging and cognitive neuroscience. She is an Assistant Professor of Psychiatry and Neurobehavioral Sciences at the University of Virginia’s Division of Perceptual Studies.

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This article is part of the Bringwise Psychology Journal — daily insights on human behavior, mental health, and personal growth.