Originally published 4 November 1996
For you, dear readers, I put my foot in the fire. But more about that in a moment.
Let’s talk about the latest fad in America’s search for pop spirituality: firewalking. No kidding. A new breed of entrepreneurial guru stands ready to lead you to a life beyond merely material existence — across 12 feet of glowing coals.
The typical fire walk goes something like this. A few dozen people pay $50 or more to participate in a fire walk workshop. After an introductory pep talk from the instructor, they are led outside where half a cord of blazing wood is spilling sparks into the sky. Fire walks generally take place in the evening so that the light of the fire and, later, the glowing coals, will be more spectacular.
Then, back inside for a couple of hours of consciousness-raising mumbo-jumbo: “the power of mind over…matter…life energy…body auras…fields of consciousness” — that sort of thing. The laws of physics are made to be broken, says the instructor, if only we can harness the spiritual power that lie deep within our souls.
By now the fire has burned down to a pile of glowing red ash, with a temperature of more than 1,200 degrees Fahrenheit. The participants are led outside again, barefoot, chanting confidently, in a state of high excitement. They hold hands in a circle as the coals are raked into a long, narrow path. The leader takes a deep breath and strides across the coals.
One by one the participants follow, down the glowing path, into the congratulatory arms of their fellow firewalkers. They have participated in a “miracle.”
Now don’t get me wrong. I am not putting down the firewalking experience itself. Firewalking has a long history within certain cultural traditions as a powerful religious ritual or rite of passage; in this context, it can share the same sacramental symbolism as the bread of Eucharist or the waters of baptism. As an extreme sport, firewalking ranks right up there with sky-diving and bungee-jumping. As a sort of quickie self-help program — overcoming fear, developing self-confidence — it might also have something to recommend it.
But a “miracle”? Hardly. Mind over matter? Not a chance. A violation of the laws of physics? Never. In fact, it is because of the laws of physics that firewalking is possible.
That’s because the heat capacity of wood ash is small. Although the temperature of the glowing coals is high, the amount of heat energy contained within them is deceptively low. The same is true for the air in a hot kitchen oven, which is why you can safely put your hand in the oven.
Also, wood ash doesn’t conduct heat well. During the fraction of a second that the foot is in contact with the coals, there is not enough time for a damaging amount of heat to transfer to the skin.
Firewalking gurus dismiss this physical explanation as typical close-minded skepticism. Scientists will try to explain away any phenomenon that doesn’t fit the materialist dogma, they say. One firewalking enthusiast writes: “The more fully we have adopted a posture of skepticism, the more difficult it becomes to approach anything in life with the attitude and posture of open faith and trust.”
The gurus are partly right. Skepticism by itself is sterile. Skepticism by itself can be arrogant. Skepticism by itself can close the door to new experience.
But scientific skepticism is coupled with another principle: Ockham’s razor. If something can be explained simply, in a familiar way, then it is best to avoid more exotic explanations. If the thermal properties of wood ash explain firewalking, then there’s no need to invoke New Age auras and spirits.
Skepticism plus Ockham’s razor, wisely applied, have proved a royal road to truth. Since the time of Galileo, and especially since the Enlightenment, they have been the basis for our health, wealth, and general happiness. The scientific way of knowing has helped us combat the darker demons of sectarian strife, religious triumphalism, and superstition.
When every New Age guru’s half-baked version of truth is accorded equal currency with hard-won public knowledge, then our bedrock security is at risk.
And worse: When we can buy our “miracles” at fifty bucks a pop, then what becomes of true spirituality, the kind that doesn’t make some guru rich — the lifelong struggle of mind and heart to engage with the transforming mystery of the world? When the consequences of ordinary physics are hawked as “mind over matter,” “life energy,” “body auras” or “fields of consciousness,” then the beauty of the true creation has been cheapened.
Mind-over-matter? I doubt if any commercial firewalking guru would be equally willing to walk a 12 foot strip of steel or aluminum heated to 1,200 degrees. If the “life energy” or “field of consciousness” works only for wood ash, with its low heat capacity and low thermal conductivity, then it’s a penny miracle indeed.
Of course, no one should try firewalking without expert guidance or knowing exactly what they are doing. It is possible to get seriously burned. Even firewalking gurus have their customers sign waivers of responsibility. Nevertheless, I couldn’t write this column without putting my money where my mouth is. I thoroughly researched the subject. Then, on a recent Sunday afternoon, I built a bonfire in my backyard — just a wee one — and raked the glowing coals into a two-foot square. While witnesses watched, I stepped barefoot onto the red-hot coals, then again, and again, about six times in all.
No burns. No blisters. Can’t even say that I felt anything unusual. But I will admit — the first step was scary. Not mind over matter, but mind over mind. And a small victory for Ockham’s razor.
