What is Anomalology? — Part 1
Part One: Defining the Undefinable
I’m finding the use of the term Anomalology to be very helpful in my research and investigation into anomalous experiences, including my own. Here’s the definition I’ve been working with for several months now:
Anomalology is the careful study of anomalous experience: experiences that resist easy explanation, and the evidence, language, memory, cultural context, and competing interpretations through which they are understood.
I openly admit that my term, definition, and use directly clash with anomalistic psychology, which studies extraordinary and ostensibly paranormal experiences from a non-paranormal explanatory hypothesis. That branch of psychology sees anomalous experiences as the result of any number of psychological phenomena, including social influence, dissociation, memory error, cognitive bias, sleep disorders, acute psychosis, etc. It also lumps personal accounts and testimony of ghosts, alien abductions, psychic experiences, and other uncanny encounters into a single category.
To be clear, I do have my own anomalous experiences, and so I openly admit that I cannot be, and am not, fully objective in my research and investigations into them, including my own. Furthermore, I do not claim to have had or to be having experiences involving ghosts or extraterrestrials. The paranormal and the extraterrestrial, it would seem, are not a part of my psychospiritual repertoire. Instead, my experiences tend to be more uniform in their extracosmic, heterocosmic, and numinous nature. As such, I do not intend to position myself as any kind of expert or guru. I’m merely a witness sharing that which is generally considered taboo to share and, in so doing, finding a new kind of language to express what I know but have been unable to say.
I also do not intend to use the term Anomalology to position “psychosis” and “reality” against “the anomalous” as though they are opposing, mutually exclusive concepts and circumstances. Instead, I take the more stubborn position of positing that an anomalous encounter can occur in a person who is otherwise psychologically healthy*, admitting that some experiences may arise amid psychosis, trauma, substance abuse, and other circumstances, including severe stress. Such scenarios deserve care, protection, and clinical attention. However, an anomalous encounter alone does not necessarily indicate illness. As such, clinical labels and spiritual interpretations do not automatically identify a clear, fundamental cause for these experiences. Thus, I see these experiences as deserving ethical attention, especially when a clear external or medical cause cannot be confirmed.
I believe the posture and mindset behind Anomalology would better serve, rather than challenge, psychiatry, because the real danger is diagnostic foreclosure, where a person charged with aiding the witness with their anomalous experience ends their inquiry as soon as they can apply a skeptical, diagnostic, or pathological label. Such an approach is more about expediency and personal bias rather than care.
Diagnostic foreclosure then is the premature closing of inquiry in which the clinical or religious designation is not treated as one contextual observation among others, but as a complete explanation that cancels the witness’s testimony, symbolic interpretation, sociocultural context, and unresolved evidentiary questions.
The opposite of Anomalology, if there is one, is not skepticism or empiricism. It is reductive epistemic closure where a very personal disruptive event is explained by renaming or miscategorizing, and thus hijacking. This robs the witness of their autonomy, agency, and especially their dignity.
My choice of Anomalology is not rooted in my desire to name a specific belief or belief system, branch of superstition or theology, or an indiscriminate catalog of miracles or marvels. I have no such desire. My choice is, more properly, centered on the study of regular phenomena commonly regarded as “abnormal” and the systems of meaning built around them, especially where those systems are incongruent with a witness’s testimony and subsequently begin to fail.
Again, I need to be precise with my position and framing. An anomaly is not simply an event that conventional means cannot explain. Most things referred to as inexplicable are merely incomplete as the result of poor or obstructed observation, poor memory, insufficient contextualization, or premature judgment made strange. The anomalous, I would argue, begins elsewhere. It begins where an occurrence remains intelligible in threads and fragments while refusing intelligibility as a whole, where every available conventional category may describe some piece or portion of the event, but fails to describe and explain the entire testimonial.
Of course, this all leads to the central question: What is real?
This is by far the most important question, though it is not the first one we encounter. The first questions are these: What ontology or belief system did the event interrupt? Where did language fail the event? Who assumed and surrendered authority for framing the event, and what was misinterpreted and lost as a result? What did witnesses alter in their memories out of necessity rather than dishonesty because the mind requires a coherent narrative even if it’s an imperfect one?
Such disturbances are the very concern of Anomalology, because they inhabit the very depths of the psyche—the soul—suggesting that such anomalies are a natural part of human existence. A feature interpreted as a flaw.
“The human definition of the natural world is always going to be too small, because the world’s more diverse and complex than we can ever know. We’re not going to comprehend it; it comprehends us. The question is whether we can use it with respect. Some people in the past who knew very little biology were able to use the land without destroying it. We, who know a great deal of biology, are destroying our land in order to use it.” — Wendell Berry
And I think the same can be said for anomalous experiences: we now know much about psychology and theology, but are destroying our psyches to explain it.
Anomalous experiences are a normal part of the human condition and, therefore, part of nature. The truth is that our metaphysics, science, philosophy, and cosmology are incomplete, and so we struggle with the Truth — our truth and objective truth. Anomalology, then, is merely a branch of the study of human nature and, by extension, Nature itself.
And the ultimate nature of truth may be that, in spite of our best efforts and intentions, it is not just imperceptible, but unknowable.
But we strive for Truth anyway, because that too is natural.
That, too, is human.
* It is a failure of our civilization and culture to dismiss anomalous experiences as mental illness without considering that such experiences may actually be a natural, normal part of the human experience. What if a truly healthy mind is one that can subtly perceive the outer edges of a far greater and not fully comprehensible reality? What if we really don’t know what real is?
What is Anomalology?
By D. Bowman Nomina Numina is a journal of reflections, moments, and meaning-making between worlds. Reply by email.