Louisa Rhine was unusually direct about the limits of her own material, and her stated position is the reason her work is still cited by people who reject her husband's conclusions. A spontaneous case, she argued, arrives already selected: the person writes because the experience seemed to come true, and nobody writes about the hunches that came to nothing, so the collection can never establish a rate. It is also a memory of an event, recorded after the outcome is known, and human memory reshapes a vague impression into a specific prediction with great efficiency once the answer is available. She did not treat these as objections to be answered but as the defining conditions of the material, and she said the collection could do only two things honestly: describe what people report, and suggest hypotheses for the laboratory to test under conditions where the selection and the hindsight are removed.
Critics have argued she still wrote as though the accumulation of cases carried some evidential weight of its own, and that the framing of her popular books, among them Hidden Channels of the Mind, invited readers to draw a conclusion her methodology forbade. That criticism has force. What the collection undoubtedly is, whatever one concludes about psi, is a very large body of ordinary people describing anomalous experience in their own words, gathered before the modern interview literature existed.