By Maria Simmons
Maria Simmons is a first year student in the Interdisciplinary Humanities doctoral program at Concordia University. Simmons’ research focuses on the conservation of peatlands in Northern Ontario through re-mystification and research-creation.
Human magnetism—a sensitivity to electromagnetic fields—pushes the boundaries of what is known about human perception and sensory capabilities. While magnetoreception is a well-documented phenomenon in animals such as migratory birds and sea turtles, scientific evidence for this ability in humans remains elusive (Johnsen & Lohmann). However, anecdotal accounts and small-scale studies hint that certain individuals may have heightened awareness of electromagnetic phenomena, sparking debates about whether this sensitivity constitutes a “sixth sense.” Sensory ethnography provides a valuable framework for examining these experiences by exploring how they are culturally interpreted and embodied, as well as their impact on individual lives (Pink).
This interview with my father, an acclaimed mineral exploration expert, offers insight into how human magnetism may already be at play within professional contexts. Over decades of work, he has experienced moments of “whole-body knowing” that align with significant discoveries, such as ore deposits. He describes these experiences not as ordinary sensory inputs but as intuitive, all-encompassing sensations. These moments, combined with a history of unusual interactions with electrical systems and environmental cues, suggest that his sensory attunement operates on a level that goes beyond conventional perception. His accounts also echo the folklore and professional lore in mining communities, where certain geologists are believed to have a “gift” for finding valuable deposits.
These narratives raise broader questions about the intersection of human biology, environmental forces, and cultural frameworks. Could these heightened sensitivities be attributed to subtle environmental cues, unconscious pattern recognition, or even as-yet-unknown physiological processes? By documenting and reflecting on such experiences through sensory ethnography, we can explore the cultural and scientific implications of human-environment interactions. In doing so, this research opens up new ways of thinking about perception, intuition, and their role in shaping human engagement with the natural world (Classen).
Biography:
Barry Simmons is a retired geological consultant and independent director with over 35 years of senior management responsibility in the mining industry. Having served many years for Teck Cominco Ltd., Falconbridge Limited and Cameco Corporation in senior exploration and management positions, he has gained worldwide experience in exploration and development of copper, nickel, precious metals, uranium and other commodities. He currently plays music with his wife, Barbara, in jazz and pop bands.
Interview with Barry Simmons:
Maria: Growing up with you as my dad, it’s always been very clear that you are definitely more reactive to magnetic or electrical fields than most. Has it been like that your whole life?
Barry: More or less. It’s not something I necessarily noticed as a kid, especially as a lot more technology was manual and now it’s all screen and touch based. But when I became a geologist it was more noticeable.
Maria: Can you describe the feeling you have when flying over ore bodies?
Barry: When I was flying from Toronto to Regina, I was in a deep sleep. The flight path went over Minnesota, which was the site of Duluth Metals—where I was a director. All of a sudden, I woke up with a start, looked out the window, and said, “Whoa, where are we? What just happened, and what did we just fly over?”
Maria: So you were able to confirm what you saw somehow?
Barry: Oh, easily. I could tell just by looking out the window and recognizing the topography underneath. But your mother checked it out and was able to confirm it using the Westjet flight path maps on the seat monitors. Sure enough, something in my body recognized that I was right over the deposit site. It was dramatic.
Maria: Do you remember the first time you felt something like this? What was the circumstance?
Barry: That’s the only time flying in an airplane that something like that has happened related to ore bodies. One other time, I was flying into Vancouver once when the plane got hit by lightning. There was a big bang, the plane shuddered, and when I looked out the window, the whole plane was surrounded by an aura of glowing light—St. Elmo’s fire. It happens rarely because planes can’t transfer the electricity since they’re not grounded.
Maria: Wow! St. Elmo’s Fire? I’ve never heard of that before. It sounds very dramatic.
Barry: Yeah, it really was. I didn’t know what it was until I talked to Dad Dunphy afterwards, and it had happened to him too when he was flying in the RAF. The pilot didn’t say anything about it until just before landing. I’m not sure what happened, but I suppose the electricity was transferred safely into the ground when we landed. In a way, the feeling was similar to the one I felt when flying over Duluth. It’s not as though I was electrocuted or anything, but there was a sort of electric feeling throughout my whole body.
Maria: How many times would you say you’ve experienced these feelings in your life?
Barry: I’ve had different occasions where I’ve been on mining properties and had a sense that there was something important underneath. I’d say this has happened about six times in my life. Some of those discoveries panned out exactly as I felt they would, like the McArthur River uranium mine and Upper Beaver, and there are a couple of places where nothing has been found—yet.
Maria: Do you think one day things will be found in those places where it hasn’t panned out yet?
Barry: Oh definitely. There’s no doubt in my mind, where I’ve felt this feeling there is definitely a substantial deposit underneath. It’s just a matter of having the resources to actually find and develop it.
Maria: What do you think causes this feeling?
Barry: It’s just knowing—you just know. It’s hard to describe. It’s like falling in love—there’s no logical explanation, but you just know. It’s a whole-body feeling: head, heart, body. There’s no specific sensation like tingling or anything like that, but it’s undeniable.
I think it’s partly intuition built over years of experience, but there’s something more to it. It’s as if my body is attuned to the signals beneath the ground in a way that I don’t fully understand.
Maria: Do you think it could be caused by a kind of magnetism?
Barry: Perhaps. It’s hard for me to really place it or credit anything specific, all I know is that I feel it throughout my entire body. But it could be due to some sort of magnetism – the deposits where I have had this feeling do possess magnetic qualities.
Maria: Does it affect other areas of your life?
Barry: It might. I’ve had experiences with electrical systems and weird things happening. TVs will just change channels randomly. One time, when we were recording music I was about to make a small adjustment, and the computer reacted by rewinding itself—the digital timer spun backward without me touching anything.
Another time, the speakers were disconnected during a film scoring project, yet they started screaming. There seems to be some overlap between the electrical field and my physicality.
Maria: That, to me, also sounds like it could be caused by magnetism.
Barry: I’m not sure how things like smartphones work… and some of it, to me, is still just unexplainable… but I do know magnets can cause strange effects for speaker systems.
Maria: Have you ever used tools to explore this phenomena?
Barry: I’ve tried dowsing before, and for me, it works. In northern Manitoba, I was working in a government office where someone else was running an experiment with dowsing rods—two L-shaped coat hangers. He was testing everyone in the building. So he had me hold these rods and walk down a really long hallway in the basement of the building. So I walked down this long hallway holding one in each hand, and believe it or not but halfway down, the rods crossed on their own, then uncrossed as I kept going. Same thing happened when I walked back. It was a strong pull.
Later, I found out there was a buried electrical cable under the spot where the rods crossed. The person running the experiment said it only works for about 10% of people, but I was one of them.
Maria: What about your work in mineral exploration? Have these instincts been validated there?
Barry: Definitely. It’s a little bit of a different story, but still worth telling I think. One time when I was working up in Thunder Bay, we were doing some exploration. On the night I’m talking about, there was a horrendous rainstorm. It was around midnight, and I was struck with the intense “knowing” that we had discovered something, even though I had no way of confirming it. It’s extremely unlike me, but I went out and danced in the rain.
Maria: Really? I can’t imagine you doing that.
Barry: I know, me neither! It was just something that happened. The next morning, another geologist called to say, “You need to get up here right away; it’s very exciting.” When I got there, they had hit the deposit around midnight.
Maria: So in this case it’s not quite like you felt it from being directly over the spot, but still some sort of connection with the site itself.
Barry: Yeah, more like that. I can’t explain any of it, but there’s definitely a profound inexplicable “knowing” to do with the site.
Maria: Any other notable instances where you felt a response from being over the ore deposit itself?
Barry: Of course. For the Upper Beaver project, I convinced everyone to invest in a property based purely on a gut feeling I gained while standing on the land. We stopped at a hotel, rented a meeting room, and I pushed the team to put $2 million into the project. It paid off—we found a significant deposit.
Maria: What about other unusual occurrences in your career?
Barry: There was a guy I worked with in British Columbia who had an unusual way of finding mineral deposits. He claimed he could sense “sick anomalies.” Every time he threw up on a property, they’d investigate that spot for mineralization. I know it sounds crazy, but it worked enough times that people kept hiring him.
Maria: Do others in your field experience similar phenomena?
Barry: In mineral exploration, it’s often said that some geologists are just luckier than others. Most never find anything their entire careers, but a small percentage find multiple large discoveries. Usually about a very lucky 10%… which is, come to think of it, the same statistic as the dowsing. No one knows why. It’s not something academic geologists talk about, but on-the-ground exploration teams are familiar with it.
Maria: So you’re definitely in that 10%.
Barry. For sure. I don’t talk about it often, but I have found the richest and largest uranium mine in the world, Macarthur river, and the richest highest grade zinc mine in North America, Winston lake. Both of these through feeling the land.
Maria: So, would you describe this as a sixth sense?
Barry: Yes, but it’s not something mystical. It’s a whole-body knowing—intuition rooted in experience and perhaps something more, something we don’t fully understand yet.
Concluding thoughts:
While not as consistent or easily defined as the traditional senses, it is undeniable that some form of “sixth sense” seems to be at play in my father’s experiences and those of other geologists within the so-called “lucky” 10%. This phenomenon likely arises from a combination of expert knowledge, intuition, and perhaps even an unrecognized sensitivity to electromagnetic forces. Ideally, I would have conducted this interview closer to the time when these sensations were first experienced. While the memory of these moments remains vivid and impactful, decades have passed since some of these events, and it is likely that certain details have faded over time. Even so, the essence of his experiences continues to offer a compelling glimpse into the interplay between human perception, expertise, and the mysteries of the natural world.
Bibliography
Classen, Constance. “Foundations for an Anthropology of the Senses.” International Social Science Journal, vol. 49, no. 153, 1997, pp. 401–412. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1468-2451.1997.tb00032.x.
Johnsen, S., and K. J. Lohmann. “The Physics and Neurobiology of Magnetoreception.” Nature Reviews Neuroscience, vol. 6, no. 9, 2005, pp. 703–712. https://doi.org/10.1038/nrn1745.
Pink, Sarah. Doing Sensory Ethnography. 2nd ed., Sage Publications, 2015.