Strange Powers by Colin Wilson Read Free Book Online

sexual asceticism is obviously genuine—the Tolstoyan view that sex is intended for reproductory purposes, not as a plaything. On the other hand, he always has been, and continues to be, strongly interested in women; he seems to find them more stimulating than men because of their more natural intuitive powers. His conversation is full of flashes of intuitive insight into the workings of the mind, the function of religion, human potentiality; yet in another way, his ideas seemed to be oddly materialistic, skeptical. In the manuscript he presented me with, there is a section on 'The Cause of Human Action', and he analyses religious feeling in a thoroughly simplistic, 'reductionist' manner. 'Many readers will insist that religious folk usually possess the quality of kindness as a natural basic attribute, but profound thought combined with absolute sincerity usually reveals the true cause for the supposed goodness. They undoubtedly appear most kind to onlookers, but their motives ... (frequently unknown to themselves) are fundamentally of a selfish nature.' He goes on to mention a man who helped an old lady repair her radio set; when pressed, the man admitted that he enjoyed creating a favorable impression, and also enjoyed showing off his (limited) electrical knowledge to someone who would be impressed by it.
    One senses immediately a certain lack of logic here, even if it is difficult to pin down. What were the man's motives supposed to have been—to entitle him to a clean moral bill of health? The old lady's son might have repaired her radio out of love of his mother; a kindly neighbor might have done it out of pity. Robert Leftwich's friend apparently admitted that helping her aided his inferiority complex. But unless he went into the house to steal her savings, it hardly matters why he did it. Under the pleasure in creating a favorable impression there was obviously the sense of responsibility for a fellow creature, which is what is at issue. But even if he had repaired the radio wholly out of some neurotic compulsion, this still would not prove that there is no such thing as a disinterested feeling of responsibility for other people. What is interesting is why Robert Leftwich should want to insist that most people do 'disinterested' acts out of 'selfish' motives. The answer is fairly clear, and I do not think it is particularly discreditable to him. He is deeply and intensely interested in himself, and there is no reason why he shouldn't be: he is an interesting man, bursting with ideas. He is also detached enough to feel a mild guilt about this. If all 'disinterested' conduct can be reduced to self-interest, there is no need to feel guilty...
    All of which is only to say that, in Maslow's terms, Leftwich still operates, to some extent, on the self-esteem level. In fact, with typical honesty, he admits this. He is one of Maslow's self-actualizes who has not yet actualized himself; this, he explained, was the reason that he wanted to retire at fifty and spend the rest of his life seeking self-enlightenment, deepening his insight, exploring further depths of self-control.
    When I left him, on that July afternoon, to drive to London, my feelings about him were ambivalent. I found him likeable, because of that child-like openness and frankness, and the enormous zest he puts into living. But I could imagine someone who didn't like him finding him an intolerable egoist; and this, in turn, would probably lead them to dismiss his 'powers' as wishful thinking. This, I was fairly certain, would be a mistake. His dowsing abilities are clearly extraordinary; he has even demonstrated them in front of a television audience. Obviously, he can 'do something' with his mind which enables him to tune in to things that are beyond the normal human radius. When he came to Cornwall, he demonstrated one of his abilities with both me and my wife. He stood with his back to us, holding the divining rod. One of us was told to walk forward until we