By and large, mankind’s beliefs about its own nature can be divided into three broad categories. We suspect that: 1) mankind is essentially good; 2) mankind is essentially evil; 3) mankind is essentially easily distracted, and has mucked it up a bit today but, hey-ho, tomorrow’s another day.

Personally, I believe the third way to be closest to the essence of Man. Much as we have an admirably camp penchant for seeing things in dramatic extremes — it’s an epic STRUGGLE between SATAN and JESUS — on the whole, behind nearly every traumatic global incident is an anxious auxiliary office worker trying to hide an incorrect piece of paperwork in the back of a filing cabinet. The bigger picture is, more often than not, quite small. Given that this is the nature of the corporeal world, it’s heartening to discover that this may well be the nature of the metaphysical world, too. This month Princeton University will close its ESP lab, after nearly 30 years of research into the paranormal. Set up in 1979 to investigate whether human consciousness could “interfere with sensitive computers and machinery”, the lab has cost a fairly reasonable $10 million, but concluded — after almost three decades — that its studies revealed only a small, yet statistically significant, effect in experiments. Richard Wise-man, a professor of psychology at the University of Hertfordshire, summed up by saying that the lab’s work was interesting, “but ultimately difficult to make practical use of”.

Personally, I find this to be quietly revelatory news. We’ve always been given to understand that the paranormal, should it exist, is a vast, billowing mass of indefinable power, what men ought not meddle in lest they unstitch the very fabric of the Universe. But from the Princeton findings, it seems that the paranormal lacks the capacity to become the new global superpower — usurping the US — if only a few more teenagers got stoned and mucked about with a Ouija board. Instead, it seems that the powers of the paranormal are quite comfortingly mundane. ESP cannot stop a man’s heart or short-circuit a tank. It seems that all that the paranormal is actually capable of doing is to allow people to guess whether a staff member at Princeton is about to show them a picture of a circle, or a couple of wavy lines. That isn’t the tip of an iceberg of paranormal potential which, if trained, could topple governments. It is , we now know, the iceberg.

Of course, if Princeton’s findings extend outward to other matters of the paranormal, a gigantic slab of mankind’s communal perception is going to the wall. Take the restless undead, for instance. It’s always good to consider what impact any new scientific research is going to have on those guys. Previously, had we been called upon to define what spirits from beyond the grave might be up to, we would have surmised a general schedule of walking the Earth for eternity, and a widespread proclivity for passing on cryptic messages from beyond the grave. Should Princeton’s conclusions on ESP extend to all paranormal activity, it might well turn out that ghosts do, in fact, exist. There really is life after death. That life after death, however, would extend solely to being able to manifest as a spooky “OOOoooooOOooo” sound up a chimney and, possibly, knob-rattling. Likewise demonic possession. In all likelihood, it may well be provably possible to be possessed by a demon. It could well be happening all the time. But on the basis of the evidence from Princeton, possession wouldn’t entail the possessee becoming superhumanly strong, levitating heavy objects, vomiting pea soup and killing nursemaids. Instead, demonic possession might be as nugatory and inconsequential as having a small voice inside that occasionally says: “You could have Marmite on toast now. If you want. ’Sup to you. Like, whatever.”

UFOs? Unquestionably real. The first thing incoming prime ministers and presidents are given is a dossier with “UFOs: unquestionably real” on the cover. However, all the activities ascribed to them — scattering shards of a virtually weightless black metal over 2,000 square miles of New Mexico, kidnapping lumberjacks in Nebraska — aren’t true. That’s us. I mean really, when you look at it, it’s got “us” written all over it. No, UFOs, though very real, are just very fast lights in the sky. That’s it. No awesome invading superbrains there.

Of course, while in the wake of this, the main religions will have to deal with some pretty major implications — the Holy Ghost thing could be particularly tricky. Religious institutions are, at heart, fundamentally suited to dealing with big crises such as these: they just ignore them. Hollywood, however, is going to have to face up to overnight devastation. The Amityville Horror will have to be remade as The Amityville Nugatory Phenomenon , Nightmare on Elm Street would become Momentary Difficulty Getting off to Sleep Because of a Recurrent OooOOooo Sound up the Chimney on Elm Street, and the entire Star Wars franchise could be reshot with a couple of torches. I imagine anyone involved in the Scream films will be hanging around bus stations, begging for spare change by Christmas. If only there were some way someone could have foreseen all this upset seconds in advance.

How did kids go from smokes to firearms?

With the frankly unnerving spree of gun murders still giving British parents the heebie-jeebies, one is left to wonder: how are these children getting guns? Given that, in my day, a secondhand bicycle would be a joint Christmas and birthday present, you have to ask if, along with a great many other considerations being batted around Westminster, we shouldn’t also be urgently looking into the amount of pocket money our children receive. Because, of course, if you have money, you can get anything, no matter how inappropriate the item.

Albeit in a far less murderous way, this reminds me of the newsagent’s opposite my school where, for the then-princely sum of 10p, any child could buy a single cigarette, pushed thoughtfully through the centre of a single Polo mint, to mask faggy breath subsequently during games.

Alms for alma mater

The Government’s new proposal to fund universities is that alumni give regular donations to their alma mater, as happens in the US. Americans, of course, have a completely different psychological make-up to us, most pertinently exemplified by the fact that they would consider giving their former colleges large, regular donations, whereas we would laugh uproariously at the suggestion, then go to the pub.

UK universities are going to have to tailor it to fit the British mindset. I suggest offering donors access to the labs, with three free experiments thrown in, invites to the Freshers’ Ball so that they can perv on podgy 18-year-olds in strapless dresses, and drinking rights in the Union bar (pints: 60p). That should do it.

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