a "transformer station": "In the deeper layers of the psyche which
　　　　  we call the unconscious, there are things that cast doubt on the
　　　　  indispensable categories of our conscious world, namely, time and
　　　　  space. The existence of telepathy is still denied only by positive
　　　　  ignoramuses."
　　　　  But, we might ask...so what? Say the human mind can work some
　　　　  inexplicable mojo on algae: It doesn't mean you can sit in a chaise
　　　　  longue and mentally skim the pool clear of pond scum. But proponents
　　　　  say the implications are sweeping: They pertain to no less than the
　　　　  mind-brain connection, the mysteries of healing, and the
　　　　  underpinnings of Western science itself.
　　　　  In a single stroke, Dossey's panel has resurrected a bete noir, a
　　　　  bugaboo, a haint that experimental reductionism has kept from
　　　　  haunting the premises for centuries: "the ghost in the machine" (as
　　　　  Oxford philosopher Gilbert Ryle derisively called the notion of
　　　　  nonphysical selfhood)--a spook that, instead of vaporously passing
　　　　  through walls, could eventually bash in the front door of The House
　　　　  That Science Built.
　　　　  The question devolves on this: How does attitude influence the
　　　　  brain, and thence the body, in the first place? In which vestibule
　　　　  of our gray matter, on what wetware coat hook, does the mind hang
　　　　  its hat? If, as Braud's experiments suggest, the mind isn't quite
　　　　  "inside" the brain, can it take jaunts around the perimeter? And
　　　　  what is that perimeter? What are the limits--and prerogatives--of
　　　　  consciousness?
　　　　  This is far from the first time the question has come up. Every
　　　　  major religion claims to own and operate the sole franchise. Every
　　　　  world-class philosophy has mud-wrestled with it. Any surgeon who
　　　　  ever unscrewed the lid of the skull, peeled back the dura mater, and
　　　　  stared into the container of vanilla pudding said to include all the
　　　　  ingredients of a human being has had at least one preposterous
　　　　  moment of awe--and utter doubt.
　　　　  Pioneering neurophysiologist Sir John Eccles, who won the 1963 Nobel
　　　　  Prize for his work on the synapse once commented that the
　　　　  hair-trigger sensitivity of the brain's intercellular connections
　　　　  suggests "a machine designed to be operated by a ghost." Eccles
　　　　  proposed that the way that consciousness affected the brain might be
　　　　  via psychokinesis (literally "soul-motion"), or the direct influence
　　　　  of thought upon matter. The mind might be like a concert virtuoso