After delivering a keynote address on evidence-based paranormal investigation, an audience member approached me with excitement. "Dr. Ramsey," he said, pulling out his phone, "I think I captured a ghost."

As a paranormal investigator who applies communication theory and scientific methodology to unexplained phenomena, I encounter moments like this regularly. Someone believes they've documented something supernatural, and they're looking for validation. How I respond in these moments matters—not just for the investigation, but for the person standing in front of me.

This case perfectly demonstrates why I developed the Ramsey Communication-Based Investigation Protocol (RCIP). It's not just about finding ghosts or debunking claims. It's about understanding how human perception, expectation, and belief shape what we experience as "paranormal"—and doing so with both rigor and compassion.

Let me walk you through what happened.

The Evidence: A Shadow Figure in a Turn-of-the-Century Photograph

The gentleman showed me a photo on his phone—a picture he'd taken of a historical photograph displayed inside the historic cottage where I'd just given my talk. The original photograph was black and white, dating to the late 1800s or early 1900s. It showed a wealthy family dressed in their finest attire, posed outside for a formal photography session.

But what caught his attention—and mine—were the shadows.

Behind the figures in the original photograph, dark shapes appeared to cling to the people, forming what many in the paranormal community call "shadow figures" or "shadow attachments." On his phone screen, these shadows looked distinct, almost deliberately positioned behind each person.

"I think these are spirits attached to the family," he said, his voice tinged with both excitement and uncertainty.

This is where many paranormal investigators would either immediately validate the claim ("Yes! You captured something!") or dismiss it outright ("That's just a shadow from the lighting"). But RCIP demands a different approach.

Before I could assess whether this was a genuine anomaly or natural phenomenon, I needed to understand what the client already believed—and then test whether the environment supported his interpretation.

Phase 1: Pseudocognition Assessment - What Did He Already Believe?

In my previous post, I introduced the concept of "pseudocognition"—the mental pictures we construct based on limited information, expectations, and pre-existing beliefs. Before investigating any claim, I need to understand what the witness already thinks they've captured.

Key questions I considered:

What was his paranormal background?

He'd attended my keynote on paranormal investigation, suggesting he had an interest in the field. He was primed to look for paranormal phenomena.

What did he expect to find?

We were touring a historic cottage—a location with built-in "haunted" narrative potential. Old houses, turn-of-the-century photographs, wealthy families with mysterious pasts—these are the ingredients of classic ghost stories.

How did he interpret the shadows?

He immediately framed them as "shadow figures" or "attachments"—terminology common in paranormal investigation circles. This suggested he'd consumed paranormal media and already had a framework for interpreting ambiguous visual data.

What was his emotional state?

He was excited, hopeful, and seeking validation. He “wanted” this to be evidence of the paranormal.

Understanding his pseudocognition didn't mean dismissing his experience. It meant recognizing that his brain—like all human brains—was working to make sense of ambiguous visual information by fitting it into pre-existing narratives.

Now I needed to test whether the environment supported a paranormal interpretation—or whether natural explanations could account for what he'd photographed.

Phase 2: Environmental Baseline - The Glass Hypothesis

I looked carefully at the image on his phone. The shadows were distinct, yes—but something about them felt familiar. They had that soft, diffused quality you see when light refracts through glass.

I'd seen this photograph before. It hung upstairs in one of the bedrooms of the cottage. And if memory served me correctly, it was framed under glass.

This was my hypothesis: The "shadow figures" weren't spirits attached to the family. They were reflections and light distortions caused by the glass covering the original photograph.

But here's where RCIP differs from typical paranormal investigation. I didn't immediately tell him, "That's just glass reflection." Instead, I tasked him to test the hypothesis himself.

"This is an excellent capture," I said genuinely. "Now, I want to challenge you. That photograph is hanging upstairs in one of the bedrooms. When your tour group goes up there, I want you to examine it closely."

I explained, "If there's glass covering the photograph, look at how light interacts with it. Move around the room. See if the shadows shift or change as your viewing angle changes. If they do, we're likely seeing light refraction through glass—not shadow figures."

"But," I added, "if there's no glass on that photograph, and you can replicate these shadows from multiple angles and lighting conditions, then you might genuinely have something unexplained."

He nodded, understanding the scientific approach. I wasn't dismissing his evidence—I was teaching him how to “test” it.

This is Phase 2 of RCIP: systematically ruling out natural explanations before considering paranormal ones. The goal isn't to debunk. The goal is to understand what we're actually observing.

Phase 4: Controlled Investigation - The Replication Test

The tour split into two groups. His group went upstairs first while mine remained on the main floor. About 45 minutes later, the groups reconvened.

The gentleman approached me. His expression had changed—the excitement was gone, replaced by quiet disappointment.

"Dr. Ramsey," he said.

"What did you find?" I asked.

"There was glass over the photograph," he admitted. "I moved around the room like you said. And I could see it—the light was bending through the glass. The shadows shifted as I changed position. It was definitely the glass causing those shapes."

This is Phase 4 of RCIP: controlled testing and replication. He'd conducted his own experiment. He'd tested the hypothesis. And the data didn't support a paranormal explanation.

"I'm sorry we had to discover that it wasn't shadow figures," I said. "But I want you to know—you just did excellent scientific investigation. You tested your evidence. You were willing to challenge your own assumptions. That's what separates real paranormal research from ghost hunting entertainment."

He nodded, appreciating the validation of his process even though his conclusion had changed.

Most paranormal investigators would have ended the conversation there. Case closed. Natural explanation found.

But then he said something that changed everything.

"Well," he said with a slight smile, "I know I don't have a picture of a ghost. But I “do have a picture of Jesus."

The Jesus Photo - When Compassion Overrides Debunking

"Jesus?" I asked. "As in Jesus Christ?"

"Yes," he said, pulling up another photo on his phone.

The image showed an abandoned house in the distance. Particle board covered the windows. And in one of those particle board panels, from the angle and distance he'd photographed it, there appeared to be the face of a bearded man.

"That's Jesus," he said confidently.

Now, let me be honest. From an investigative standpoint, this was textbook pareidolia—the psychological phenomenon where our brains see faces in random patterns. Particle board, with its texture and grain, is notorious for creating face-like patterns. The photo was taken from a considerable distance, making details ambiguous. And the "face" required a certain amount of wanting to see it to truly resemble a bearded man.

I could have explained all of this. I could have walked him through pareidolia, pattern recognition, and the psychology of religious iconography. I could have debunked this second piece of evidence just as thoroughly as we'd debunked the shadow figures.

But I didn't.

Why?

Because RCIP isn't just about scientific rigor—it's about understanding the human being in front of you.

This man had just experienced the disappointment of discovering his "ghost photo" was light refraction. He'd been vulnerable enough to share his evidence with a PhD researcher and open-minded enough to test it scientifically. And now he was standing before me with one remaining piece of wonder.

I looked at the photo. Then I looked at him.

"Do you feel that you found Jesus in that picture?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "I feel that's Jesus."

I smiled. "Then I want you to believe that you got a picture of Jesus."

His face lit up. The disappointment from the shadow figure revelation melted away. He walked away happy.

And I felt good about that.

Why I Made That Choice - The Ethics of Paranormal Investigation

Some skeptics might criticize my decision. "You're a scientist! You should have corrected him! You should have explained pareidolia!"

But here's what I know after years of applying communication theory to paranormal investigation:

Belief serves a purpose!

For this gentleman, that "Jesus photo" wasn't just a picture of particle board. It was “meaningful.” It brought him comfort, wonder, maybe even spiritual reassurance. Who was I to strip that away?

More importantly, (he wasn't claiming this as scientific evidence). He wasn't trying to publish it in a journal or present it at a conference. He wasn't using it to manipulate or exploit others. It was a personal experience that brought him joy.

This is where RCIP's Phase 1—Pseudocognition Assessment—matters beyond just investigation. It's about understanding people.

My role as a paranormal investigator isn't to destroy people's beliefs. It's to help them think critically about their experiences “when it matters.” The shadow figure photo mattered because he was presenting it as potential evidence. We needed to test it. And when we did, the data didn't support a paranormal explanation.

But the Jesus photo? That was personal faith. And I have no interest in debunking faith.

The key distinction: Evidence vs. Personal Experience.

When someone presents something as evidence that can be tested, I apply rigorous methodology. When someone shares a “personal experience” that brings them meaning, I respect that—as long as it's not harming them or others.

This gentleman left our interaction having learned scientific investigation skills and maintaining a sense of wonder. That, to me, is a successful outcome.

Conclusion: What This Case Teaches Us About RCIP

This investigation demonstrates several core principles of the Ramsey Communication-Based Investigation Protocol:

1. Pseudocognition shapes perception. The gentleman's excitement, expectations, and paranormal framework primed him to see shadow figures where light refraction existed.

2. Environmental testing is essential. By having him physically test the glass hypothesis, we reached a conclusion based on replicable observation—not my authority as a researcher.

3. Compassion doesn't contradict rigor. I can be scientifically rigorous about testable claims while respecting personal beliefs that bring meaning to someone's life.

4. Empowering clients matters. Instead of simply telling him "that's not a ghost," I taught him how to investigate. That's a skill he'll carry into future experiences.

This is what separates evidence-based paranormal investigation from both ghost hunting entertainment and militant skepticism. We pursue truth rigorously—but we never forget we're working with real people, real emotions, and real needs for meaning.

In my next post, I'll share a case where RCIP led to a very different conclusion—one where natural explanations “couldn't” account for what we observed.

Until then, keep questioning. Keep testing. And keep compassion at the center of your investigations.