Category: Blog

As you know, I was thoroughly irked this week, seeing unattractive comments about me and my research.

Then, once I stopped saying rude things to my computer monitor and calmed down, I decided to take action.

First, I posted a couple of YouTube videos, trying to correct apparent misunderstandings.

After that, I hired a team to see whether it’s worth my time to make YouTube a priority… but I’ll talk about that in a moment.

Anyway, about the videos…

For years, there’s been a curious, online fascination with my surname. (This has never made sense to me. Per Forebears, Broome is the 23,815th most common surname in the world, and 62% of Broomes are in the U.S.A.)

In case you’re as interested in quirks and oddities as I am, I stumbled onto this list of 100+ least-common surnames.  My favorite might be “Bytheseashore.” (Seriously. It’s a surname. I would love to see the comments it attracts.)

So anyway, in case it might bring clarity, I created a YouTube video, sharing some details about the my surname. (Admittedly, this might be an absolute snooze for most people.)

I’m pleased that I managed to keep this video under one minute. As a genealogy enthusiast, it’s far too easy for me to go on and on (and on) about the Broomes and related families.

In addition to the obsession with my name, even more people seem to think I’m a newcomer to the Mandela Effect. Some suggest that I’m a usurper.

Really, as soon as I’d posted my four-part audiobook recordings at YouTube, one person actually said, “she came along and took ownership.”  And then others followed with similar accusations.

Umm… wow.

So, in case it will do any good — admittedly unlikely — I created a YouTube Short video addressing that, too.

Meanwhile, musing about the general YouTube dilemma, I’d decided to ask some professionals whether I could create more videos on my two main topics – ghost hunting and the Mandela Effect – and get adequate traction with either channel.

I’m still in blink-blink mode, looking at their report.

Apparently, every month, an average of 930 people search on YouTube for “Fiona Broome.”  Just my name. Nothing else with it. (Is there another Fiona Broome they’re looking for…?)

But – and this is what really astonishes me – the competition for that keyword is pretty steep.

So, at this point, unless the YouTube algorithm is being indulgent, neither of my YouTube channels is likely to be on the first page of results.

Even one that’s “FionaBroome.” (That’s the actual URL/name of my ghost hunting YouTube channel.)

And then there’s “Mandela Effect.” YouTube receives over 73,000 searches for that phrase, every month.

I have zero chance of ranking well for that phrase, too.

However, the team did find a couple of YouTube niches where I might be able to shine.

I’ll consider them as we’re packing for our next cross-country trip.

They might be on my to-do list for 2024.

Ick.

This afternoon, checking to see how my latest videos look on YouTube, I stumbled onto…

Well, here’s what I said at my Facebook Page:

On one hand, I’m flattered that my recent audiobook recordings so quickly attracted attention. (Thank you, MoneyBags73!)

Really, I thought it was kind of meta/hilarious that someone posted a video… about me posting videos.

However, I probably shouldn’t have read the comments at that gentleman’s YouTube video page. They were harsh reminders of why, several years ago, I stepped back from the Mandela Effect topic.

I’m sitting here, shaking my head and muttering, “Trolls, and those who repeat their nonsense, as if it’s true…” * sigh *

In case there’s any doubt:

1) Yes, I did start the original Mandela Effect website. (In my book/recording, I reference the topic’s quirky, collaborative start, and mentioned Shadowe in the book’s dedication.)

2) Yes, I do understand the scope of the Mandela Effect; I just don’t see the point in trying to prove it. Or even that the Mandela Effect is real.

3) No, my surname was never Broon, Broone, Broom, or Bloom. And the “witch” label actually evolved when trolls first described me as a “b—-,” and several conservative (lower-case C) critics preferred to use a euphemism instead. (I never thought they were serious about me being an actual witch… but maybe they were?)

However, I’m okay with people criticizing my voice* or my recordings. Mostly, I just wanted to put the contents of my latest book in a free – not paid – version of an audiobook. So there it is.

Okay, feeling really annoyed, that’s what I’d initially posted on Facebook.

Here’s what else I’d like to say: I don’t regret publishing the book. Or even putting the audiobook online, and making everything as free as possible. (The Kindle book is free in Kindle Unlimited, too.)

After all, I think it’s important for people to know the facts about the Mandela Effect, including

• how the topic started,
• some of its quirkier aspects and intriguing theories (like Mr. Stain’s cryptic comments, referenced in the audiobook/podcast)
• and why the original website isn’t online now.

But now, seeing what’s said about me and my work, in the first 24 hours since I became far more vocal (literally) about the Mandela Effect… yikes.

Oh, the Mandela Effect site was tremendous fun for the first year or two or three.

But once the trolls showed up… the fun:exhaustion ratio wasn’t good, and it seems as if that hasn’t improved.

I’m rethinking how to deal with this, while ensuring the visibility of the astonishingly deep insights shared in our early conversations.

Many of those observations and theories haven’t been fully explored. In the future, they may lead to important answers.

To me, it feels almost immoral to let trolls – and those who see the Mandela Effect as something to exploit – control the focus, and how the topic is perceived.

I may regret this, but I think I’m going to speak up a bit more, in case it helps. Clarify points where people are being misled. Highlight the most original theories and  curious, quirky “rabbit holes” of our original conversations.

Well… maybe. I’ll need to see if that’s worth my time. If it’d be just another blog post or YouTube video (or two or three) that get lost in the algorithms, I may give this a pass.

Meanwhile, most reliable media resources give me appropriate credit for my work, establishing the Mandela Effect.

Long-time friends and fans know my role in that, as well.

I’m not sure if that’s good enough for current and future researchers to find the earliest Mandela Effect materials. But maybe it has to be?

* Should I have chosen an AI voice instead?

No, I’m not serious. LOL. Sites like ElevenLabs are producing some pretty good AI voices, but – to me – it seems important for people to hear the tone in my voice, in case that better conveys my sentiments. How flippant I am, and also what a science geek I am. The whimsical ideas that intrigue me, the cultural notes I reference, and how I say “heck” and “darn” instead of anything stronger. And so on. How all of that defines who I am. After all, text can be so vapid.

This morning, I was beta-testing some AI video software, and — for amusement — asked the AI to produce a ghost-themed video.

I provided the general topic and ideas, and AI did the rest.

I did not use my actual name when I signed up for the beta. (As you know, I’m a bit of a privacy fanatic.)

Well… when I played the video to see if the AI was worth using in the future, I was stunned.

They’d cloned my voice, probably from my YouTube channel. No doubt about it.

I’m doing my best to take this as a compliment: That, when talking about ghosts, using my voice makes the video sound more credible.
Or something…?

Of course, it might just reflect the number of podcasts and videos I’ve shared online, over the past 20+ years. That gave AI an abundance of voice samples to clone.

Whatever the reason my voice was selected: PLEASE be aware that this is going on.

Whether it’s my voice or someone else’s (Jason, Grant, Zak, Jack, Alex, Kris, Steve, Tango, Dustin, etc.), if the “voice” is saying things that seem a bit off, or outright uncharacteristic, report it.

This is especially true if the fake voice is being used for potential commercial gain of any kind, including on a YouTube channel or as an adjunct to “I want to be a celebrity, too” self-promotion. (Yes, I’ve already talked with an attorney, who put my mind at ease. See this legal precedent: Midler v. Ford Motor Co.)

And tell others, in case they might be confused, too.

In my case, if the recording isn’t on my YouTube channel or my own websites… It’s almost certainly NOT me.

It’s been a few years since I gave interviews or spoke at events, and – frankly – I’m enjoying having time to focus on my own projects. (I may return to Dragon Con, etc., in the future, but not yet.)

This will be a rant.

Here’s what happened, early in March 2023.

In late February, once again, the Mandela Effect website/archives needed to be moved to new hosting. (Spikes in interest – and traffic – have always been an issue. Every year or two, I have to switch to increasingly high-powered hosting. The continued interest in the topic astonishes me.)

So, at my Facebook Page, I alerted readers about the pending move.

On March 7th, I announced that the actual move was in progress.

But then, in response to some very demanding comments, I had to (yet again) explain that – receiving 1k to 5k emails/day – there’s no way I can read every email sent to me, much less reply to them.

And frankly, I usually feel as if don’t have anything new to say about the Mandela Effect.

Until science can offer better explanations for the more extreme anomalies (the ones that aren’t simple confusion, media errors, or memory glitches), and resolve the archaic aspects of Newtonian physics, it’s all speculation.

And then…

The Facebook comments that followed were even more unattractive. They were insulting. Abusive. Worrisome.

Most were so inflammatory that Facebook automatically hid them from public view, though I could read and delete them. (And did so.)

Here’s what I said, after a bout of well-earned, knee-wobbling mix of rage and anxiety:

This morning, replying to a critical comment at Facebook, I was startled.

That is, as sincere and layered as a comment may be, it could have been written by AI.

With the abrupt emergence and growing sophistication of GPT-3, -4, and so on, can we trust anything we read online?

(Yes, I know the logical response is, “Okay, but could we ever trust it?”)

With this new reality, how do we deal with critical — but sincere-sounding — comments?  Replying to them could consume valuable time better spent more constructively.

(As I type that, I wonder if it’s any better to spend time replying to AI-generated comments that sound cheerful and supportive. Or to spend even one moment of our valuable time dealing with snarky critics, whether their voices are real or AI.)

Will we need digital signatures to identify those who comment? But if we each use digital signatures, how do we also protect our privacy?

Have the lines already blurred?

Here’s why that question comes to mind:

Recently, I’ve been helping an overwhelmed cousin with her audio/visual business, providing voiceovers for some of her clients. I don’t mind helping her for a few hours a week, while she hires new voice actors.

Her voice and mine are so similar, most people — including her clients —  won’t realize that what they’re hearing isn’t actually her voice. (That’s why I volunteered, short-term.)

But even in that context, this gets tangled. After all, my cousin is the “voice” for several clients.

So, in audiobooks, local ads, and videos, people think they’re actually hearing the voice of Jane Doe (or whomever), when it’s actually my cousin. Or, in some cases (for just a few weeks), it’s me.

Okay, that seems like a harmless deception in a low-tech context.

[September 2023 update: It may have been part of a later problem. At my request, my cousin re-recorded the material that used my voice, and worked with clients to replace the older ads, etc. So now, if you hear “my” voice anywhere except on my YouTube channel or at my websites, it’s not me. ]

But I wonder where we draw the line.

What safeguards we can put in place, without it becoming a privacy risk to the broad populace?  After all, the problem is actually a tiny, malicious minority, albeit one with the potential to wreak broad-scale havoc in a world that’s already a bit of a tinderbox.

I don’t want this to become a question of “do the ends justify the means?”

Asimov’s “Three Laws…” – prescient or too simplistic?

This morning, my husband referenced Isaac Asimov’s “Three Laws of Robotics.”

A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.

A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.

A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

So, how do we define “harm,” and how can we trust AI — sentient or not — to understand acceptable boundaries when it’s learning from the Internet? After all, that’s where boundaries are trampled and exploited daily.

As content creators, website owners, forum moderators, and participants in social media, these are some daunting issues to address.

As Conan Doyle said in The Boscombe Valley Mystery, “There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.”

The questions then become:

• What appears to be an obvious fact, but is actually deceptive?
• And how can we tell the difference, in the fast-paced realm of social media?

I’m not sure we have much time to consider this. At the pace AI is developing, we may be coping as we sort this.

“Good enough” may have to be good enough, whether that means shutting down comments altogether (as I sometimes do), or learning to shrug off (and perhaps delete) those we don’t have time for.

For now, the answers aren’t clear, but it’s an immediate and emerging issue most of us need to consider, as content creators, as members of the online community, and in the everyday world.

While I appreciate healthy skepticism and investigations into Mandela Effect memories, I’m often irked by news articles and reports that brush the entire topic aside as “you’re just confused.”

However, even when the journalist or researcher has preconceived ideas about the Mandela Effect, I can appreciate the nuances of scientific investigation.

That’s why I’m pleased with this article, even if it leans into the “it’s all false memories” mindset.

When someone can indicate where a confusion may have started, that’s useful.

Two Sherlock Holmes quotes come to mind at the moment. One is from “The Boscombe Valley Mystery.”

“There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.”

The other is from “The Sign of Four.”

“How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?”

Regarding the Mandela Effect, I’m 100% supportive of constructive and reliable research that leaves us with the truth, however improbable it may be, depending upon your viewpoint.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/talking-apes/202211/testing-the-visual-mandela-effect

2023 update: Here’s another superb article about the Mandela Effect: [CNN] The ‘Mandela Effect’ describes the false memories many of us share. But why can’t scientists explain it? 

Can lucid dreaming be a factor in the Mandela Effect?

Until I read this article, Is Dreaming Real?, that hadn’t crossed my mind. Not seriously, anyway.

The possibility is intriguing.

I have long maintained that the Mandela Effect isn’t a single cause-and-effect experience.

That is, it’s not all false memories. It’s not all errors in news reporting or the media.

Even my favorite—and possibly most extreme (for now)—theory, parallel realities, can’t explain every Mandela Effect memory.

Now, if we add lucid dreaming to the possible reasons people recall elements of a different past, this topic becomes even more interesting.

Well, it is for me, anyway.

Note: As an author and Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

___

This should be clear: The term “Mandela Effect” describes the phenomenon, not an explanation of it.

When a reporter or blogger claims the Mandela Effect is a “theory,” they haven’t done their homework.

Likewise, when the Mandela Effect is brushed off as “false memories,” the person is — perhaps conveniently — missing the point.

And they’re insulting our intelligence at the same time.

Yes, some odd memories can be explained as false memories. With a little research, you may be able to find where the mistake happened.

(If it’s a false memory, it’s not the Mandela Effect; it’s a false memory.)

But many people’s first-person stories about the Mandela Effect aren’t so easy to dismiss.

What’s not the Mandela Effect

Everyone has had a moment (or two or three) where they said, “Wait… I really believed [something] was real.”

That “something” could be a small incident, or it might be something big and troubling.

For example, an early, possibly traumatic moment may have been discovering that Santa Claus doesn’t deliver gifts on Christmas Eve, after all.

At the other end of the spectrum, there’s the frustration of thinking you left your car keys or the TV/streaming remote in a certain location… but it’s not there when you look.

Those aren’t the kinds of beliefs and memories we’d describe as the Mandela Effect.

Likewise, there are assorted other reasonable explanations for conflicts between what a person remembers and what actually happened.

Ruling out obvious answers

Here are some commonplace explanations for “different” memories of the past:

• • faulty news reporting
  • jokes taken seriously
  • hyperbole by those who like to stir up drama
  • what some scientists term “broken telephone effect,” referencing a party game (sometimes just called “telephone”).

Those are part of everyday life. When we find a reasonable explanation among them, we’re unlikely to think about our mistaken memories again.

In other words, if there’s a clear answer to our past confusion or misunderstanding, and it makes sense, it’s not the Mandela Effect.

Most of us recognize that.

We do our homework. We fact-check our recall and our memories.

That’s common sense.

If all the answers were simple, I wouldn’t have started the Mandela Effect website.

Once the novelty of a personal, baffling memory wears off, many of us keep looking for answers. That was — and still is — the reason for the Mandela Effect website.

At first, I hoped others might offer a simple explanation for my memories of Nelson Mandela’s funeral. (So far, no easy answer is a match.)

Then, when more memories — different from recorded history — emerged, the Mandela Effect became really interesting.

And fun.

Meanwhile…

I’m not sure whether to feel sorry for those who choose the simple “false memories” explanation.

They’re missing the intrigue of exploring a wealth of evidence, such as credible 19th-century doppelgänger reports, that may point to parallel realities and Many Interacting Worlds.

For me, that’s the fun part of Mandela Effect speculation and research.

Yes, for those who rush to simplistic answers, perhaps life may be complex and challenging enough.

That’s okay. They have my sympathy, and – really — I have nothing to prove.

However, I’m irked when small, vocal groups of critics (and reporters rushing to meet a deadline) suggest that we’re not bright enough to fact-check our own memories. Or throw other, badly flawed accusations at us.

My message to them is this: Attempting to brush aside the Mandela Effect as “false memories” will not make science vanish.

(After all, 19th and 20th century efforts to ignore quantum physics merely delayed its inevitable emergence as a serious study affecting everyday life and perceptions.)

I applaud those who continue to seek answers to the curious aspects of the Mandela Effect.

And I’d really like the insulting rhetoric to cease.

[This rant was expanded from part of a longer article that appeared at my Mandela Effect website.]