Once a top-secret training manual for CIA field agents in the early Cold War Era of the 1950s, The Official CIA Manual of Trickery and Deception —a key component of the infamous MK-ULTRA campaign—is now available to the general public. An amazing historical artifact, this eye-opening handbook offered step-by-step instructions to covert intelligence operatives in all manner of sleight of hand and trickery designed to thwart the Communist enemy. Part of MK-ULTRA, the CIA's secret mind-control and chemical interrogation research program, this legendary document, the brainchild of John Mulholland, then America’s most famous magician, was believed lost forever. But thanks to former CIA gadgeteer Bob Wallace and renowned spycraft historian H. Keith Melton, The Official CIA Manual of Trickery and Deception is now available to everyone, spy and civilian alike.
The first half of this book is actually a history of the program and the magician who created the manual. That is the better half of the book, and quite fascinating, at least for someone who, like me, has little knowledge of CIA programs in the early Cold War era. I got the book because of my interest in the history of magic, and it didn't disappoint. The manual itself is VERY elementary, and gets a bit boring if you don't actually care about how to make a hollow pencil to carry powders to slip into someone's drink. But even in the midst of very dry how-to descriptions are some beautiful glimpses into the mannerisms, clothing, and small talk that were assumed to be "natural" in the 1950s.
In terms of entertainment, the very lengthy introduction in this book is better than the declassified MKULTRA era manuscript it headlines. Many interesting details about the CIA during the MKULTRA years are discussed, including strange ones, such as the CIA use of prostitutes to lure Johns into motel rooms under surveillence so agents could record the Johns' reaction to various mind altering drugs like LSD. The introduction alone is a must-read for any spy, CIA, or conspiracy geek. Although, a short internet search on the subject of MKULTRA would reveal a far more sinister, and disturbing look into the CIA than this book would ever hint at.
That's the main trouble with this book. I didn't think it could be at all possible to sanitize and neuter the very idea of the MKULTRA project, which included disturbing studies of brainwashing on unwilling and unwitting subjects, some experimented on in mental hospitals, and taken from their own families. This book has done just that. By touting the glaring "declassfied" badge on its front cover, and breathlessly declaring how the manuscript within was one of the very few to escape the massive destruction of documents that almost erased the MKULTRA project, one is drawn easily into reading it with a racing pulse and shaking hands.
The declassified manuscript is a how-to manual commissioned by the CIA from a successful and well written magician named John Mullholland. In sterile courier font, and as clearly as it possibly can, it painstakingly covers various sleight of hand tricks an undercover agent can do to pass along notes, steal small objects, and drug unsuspecting enemies drinks. They're pretty fun ideas for a party trick nowadays, or a pretty terrifying how-to manual on how to slip a gal a roofie. There is even a special section for the ladies! A giggle or two was spent on reading the passages Mullholland pens, almost apologetic in noting that a female agent can probably go undetected easier than a man because a man won't expect much from a woman anyway. At least try to tackle those passages with a bit of humor and you should get through it.
All in all, I found this an enjoyable read, not particularly a great read, and I was very disappointed in having such a bland payoff for all the hype. I am a sucker for books that reflect the flavor of their times, however, and in fact, this was not much of a different read than say, a good manners manual from the 1930's.
This book did a few things for me. It relieved me of minor wallet congestion by installing a leak where $20 used to be. It also gave me pause to think that if any of this crap was used in the era when we risked obliteration by the Soviets, it damn well might have come from their intense boredom of what we classified.
This book wraps a piece of accidentally un-destroyed info in hard cover, adds a few chapters of what-we-once-did crap from the files of Wikipedia, and masterfully uses internet buzz to get the attention of those who had hoped for more and were silly enough to enter a credit card number. Poof! $20 gone! (Color me impressed.)
The 'discovered' part of the book reads like a cheap Boy Scout merit badge book on espionage, complete with signaling information, a modest amount of 'top secret' stage magician stuff, and abundant instruction of how to drop Roofies in your date's gin and tonic. If you need to do that, this is your book.
I'd throw it away, but I am afraid some poor sod would find it and blame me.
Save your money. Read 'The Puzzle Palace', read about E-Systems or Blackwater. Read the phonebook. Ick.
It's hilarious that this book exists. The US Government is, and has always been, kind of a crapshoot.
So, in the 1960s, the head of the CIA (Richard Helm, most famous for the MKULTRA project in which they dosed unsuspecting people with LSD - fun fact, these experiments ran in part at my alma mater, McGill University, in Montreal - to see if they could control their minds - spoiler, no they couldn't) commissioned a popular magician, John Mulholland, to write some manuals for spies (to teach them things like sleight of hand tricks to poison someone). True story. And those manuals were discovered in 2007. And now you can read them.
The first third or so of the book is a history of this era of spydom, which was pretty interesting - not only talking about the LSD experiments I mentioned above but also the less famous results of MKULTRA (my personal favourite: a flesh-coloured rubber scrotum that fits over a male spy's testicles, containing a cavity large enough to hide a subminiature escape radio about half the size of a pack of cigarettes).
The second two-thirds contain the actual manuals by magician John Mulholland. I'll be honest: unless you want to be a magician, or desperately wish to learn some tricks on how to drop powder into someone's drink without them knowing (in which case, I have some questions for you - and so do the FBI), it's a little dry. But nonetheless interesting to mull over for its historical context.
And because it's just a little funny that this is the fruit of our tax dollars.
It takes a Magician and even now did anyone consider…. That dam bear dancing across the stage and how many people are in jail because of “eye witnesses”
This is one of the most bizarre nonfiction books I've ever read. It's like 25% history of 19th century stage magic, 25% applied kleptomania, and 50% "Using Roofies: For Dummies!"
It opens with a lengthy introduction about the early days of the C.I.A. and how the concept of fair play went right out the window in favor of ruthlessly using any possible advantage for information-gathering purposes. Apparently that included hiring Houdini and his contemporary ilk to teach agents how to do slight of hand tricks. After a recap of some of the more silly and out-there methods we tried (and failed) to kill Fidel Castro, the book pivots to the actual reprinting of an original classified manual from the 50's that was rediscovered in 2007.
From this point on, a lot of time is spent on multiple methods for slipping 1) pills, 2) powders, and 3) liquids into an unsuspecting mark's drink before we change gears and talk about how to use distraction and psychological tricks to swipe small objects right in front of someone's eyes. Which I guess would be handy skills for an aspiring spy. The part that interested me the most and what felt most like my understanding of spycraft - recognition signals and working as teams - was given the least amount of time, but at least it was addressed at all.
It's a very dated manual of its time (it's assumed that everyone smokes cigarettes, carries loose change, and that women don't leave the house without at least one handkerchief), but as a historical time capsule of what early espionage techniques looked like you could certainly do worse. Also there are tons of helpful sketches and diagrams, so maybe try getting your hands on a physical printing if you're interested.
كتاب فقير جدّاً جدّاً جدّاً ويعتمد بشكل كبير على العنوان المشوّق والذي يعد بكشف خدع وحيل بوليسيّة مشوّقة لكن القارئ موعود بخيبة أمل كبيرة أثناء القراءةبسبب ضعف وبساطة أسلوب الكاتبين (وزادت الترجمة الطين بلّة) , كان كتاباً ثقيلاً جدّاً.
اقتنيت الكتاب كهدية من العارض في معرض القاهرة الدولي للكتاب ، و بعد القراءة تلقى في ذهني المثل المصري " لو فيه خير ما كان رماه الطير ". مجرد مضيعة للوقت كتاب تافهة تجاري و سخيف العنوان خادع جداً ، الحمدلله اني لما اشتره لكنت متحسراً نادماً على مالٍ اهُدر
The chapter about history was more interesting than the manual. I was expecting more about psychological factors than a guide to slight of hand tricks.
When you pick up a book called *The Official CIA Manual of Trickery and Deception*, you already expect to find yourself in a strange twilight zone where spies become stage magicians and sleight-of-hand is weaponized into statecraft. It is one of those texts that almost reads like parody—except it isn’t. This manual, resurrected and published by H. Keith Melton and Robert Wallace, is essentially a rediscovery of Cold War material once prepared under the aegis of John Mulholland, a professional magician contracted by the CIA during the paranoid heat of the 1950s.
At the time, American intelligence was desperate to outmanoeuvre the Soviet bloc in every conceivable way, not only in nuclear weaponry or espionage but in the small, gritty details of tradecraft—how to pass a pill, how to slip poison into a drink, how to make an object vanish from the hand of an unsuspecting target. This was the moment when espionage turned to illusion, and the magician’s repertoire was imported wholesale into intelligence culture. The book captures that strangeness: a mixture of stagecraft, paranoia, theatre, and lethal intent.
Reading it in 2012, the so-called Mayan end-of-the-world year, lent it an extra layer of irony. While people were busy interpreting calendars and waiting for celestial cataclysms, here was a manual of another apocalypse—the shadow apocalypse of state secrecy, a manual of manipulation and clandestine art designed to undermine trust at its most intimate level. There is something both theatrical and chilling about that juxtaposition.
Melton and Wallace serve as guides, contextualizing the material with annotations, historical background, and explanations of how these tricks fit into the broader world of CIA operations. But they never lose sight of the fact that what they are presenting is not mere entertainment, though it is dressed in the garb of magic. These are methods designed for use in life-and-death operations, where distraction, deception, and dexterity could mean survival or failure.
The manual itself, as reconstructed here, is a bizarre hybrid. On one page, you encounter the language of illusionists: palming objects, misdirection, gesture, eye contact. On the next, you realize that these are not stage props but capsules of drugs, coded messages, powders, or tiny objects that could change the course of an operation.
The magician’s tricks are retooled for espionage. The sleight of hand that once made a coin vanish now makes a microdot disappear from scrutiny. The art of pouring a drink with theatrical flourish is turned into the lethal act of dropping a substance undetected into a glass. The simple movements of misdirection that a conjuror uses to delight an audience are adapted into operational acts meant to escape surveillance or detection. That paradox—playfulness reconfigured into lethal seriousness—is at the heart of what makes the book so unsettling and fascinating.
Melton and Wallace’s edition frames the manual as a piece of cultural history, a window into how intelligence agencies thought during the Cold War. One of the key takeaways is the way the CIA, in its hunger to control every variable, was willing to explore domains that seemed, at first glance, eccentric or frivolous. Contracting a professional magician might sound absurd, but in the logic of Cold War paranoia, nothing was too trivial.
If a conjuror could teach an operative to make a small object vanish unnoticed, that could be the difference between smuggling microfilm past a border guard or being exposed. The manual is thus also a testament to bureaucratic imagination: the willingness to leave no avenue unexplored, however odd it might appear. In this sense, the book functions not only as a curiosity but as an emblem of a broader truth—that intelligence work is not always about high technology or massive operations, but often about the granular, the tactile, the bodily.
Another striking dimension of reading this manual is the way it exposes the overlap between performance and deception. Spies and magicians share a core skill: both rely on creating controlled illusions in the minds of others. They both manipulate attention, perception, expectation. But where the magician’s end is wonder, the spy’s end is survival or manipulation. The CIA’s borrowing from magic underscores this kinship, and Melton and Wallace make that point repeatedly, tracing parallels between the performance of the conjuror on stage and the performance of the operative in the field. This link is a reminder that espionage is not just about intelligence collection but about theater, about crafting realities that opponents accept as genuine.
The manual’s dry instructions—how to position the hand, where to place the eyes, how to move naturally while concealing—are a kind of choreography of deception, a bodily training manual for spies-as-actors. Reading it is like eavesdropping on the rehearsal of a clandestine play.
At the same time, the book raises ethical questions that simmer beneath the surface. When you see stage magic transposed into espionage, it is hard not to feel a certain disquiet. Tricks that in one context are innocent entertainment become, in another, tools of manipulation, even assassination. It is a reminder of how skills are not neutral, how they acquire moral charge depending on the ends to which they are put. A sleight that makes a child laugh at a birthday party becomes, in CIA hands, a way to dose someone unknowingly.
This duality gives the book a disturbing undertone. One reads it with fascination but also with unease, recognizing the thin line between art and weapon. That ethical unease is part of the book’s power, for it forces the reader to confront how the apparatus of intelligence agencies colonizes everyday arts and crafts, stripping them of innocence.
Melton and Wallace, for their part, do not sensationalize. They present the manual with commentary but without melodrama. Their approach is that of careful curators, archivists of the strange, rescuing a lost text and making it accessible to a wider public. They provide historical notes, explain how certain tricks were meant to be applied, and place the manual in the larger arc of CIA activities, particularly the notorious MKULTRA program.
That context is important, for it reminds us that these tricks were not isolated oddities but part of a broader, often darker experimentation with mind control, drugs, and psychological manipulation. The manual becomes one piece of a larger puzzle, emblematic of an era when intelligence agencies flirted with science fiction-like projects under the pressure of geopolitical rivalry. It is precisely because of this historical embedding that the book rises above mere curiosity. It becomes a commentary on how far institutions will go in pursuit of control.
Stylistically, the manual itself is almost charmingly archaic. The instructions are written in the tone of a mid-century conjuror, full of precise detail and emphasis on practice, posture, fluidity of movement. One almost forgets, at times, that these lessons are meant for spies. They could be lessons for amateur magicians, if stripped of their sinister context. The language is plain, didactic, focused on training the body and mind to act seamlessly.
And yet the knowledge that the props are not coins but capsules or poisons changes everything. It is this dual readability that gives the text its odd resonance. One could, if one chose, learn a few tricks from it purely for amusement, but the shadow of espionage always lurks in the margins.
Reading it in 2012 added another surreal dimension. That was the year saturated with doomsday rhetoric, when calendars and prophecies circulated in popular culture. Against that backdrop, a Cold War manual of trickery felt like a more grounded apocalypse, a reminder that the end of worlds is not always cosmic but often mundane, orchestrated by human hands through deception and manipulation.
The contrast between Mayan prophecies and CIA conjuring tricks underscores the real nature of threat: not planetary alignments but the small, invisible gestures of power. In that sense, the book reads like a corrective to myth. The end of trust is more dangerous than the end of time.
What also lingers after reading is the sense of absurdity inherent in espionage culture. The idea that governments were paying magicians to teach sleight-of-hand for spies might sound comical, but it was deadly serious. That tension between absurdity and gravity is characteristic of Cold War history, where vast sums and energies were devoted to projects that, in retrospect, seem outlandish. From mind-control experiments to magician’s manuals, the CIA embodied the surreal logic of paranoia. The book captures that absurdity perfectly, not by mocking it but by presenting it plainly, letting the sheer strangeness speak for itself.
As a reading experience, the book is oddly entertaining. One cannot help but try to visualize or even mimic the tricks described, as though rehearsing them at home. The illustrations reinforce that sense, giving it the feel of a manual you might actually try out. This creates a dissonance: you find yourself smiling at a clever method of concealment, then remembering that in its original context, it might have been used for lethal purposes. That oscillation between delight and discomfort is the emotional texture of the book. It keeps the reader alert, unsettled, and reflective.
Ultimately, *The Official CIA Manual of Trickery and Deception* is not just about spies or magicians. It is about the human hunger to control perception, the endless desire to bend appearances to one’s will. It shows how institutions formalize that hunger into manuals, training regimens, and bureaucratic doctrine. And it reveals how fragile trust is, how easily perception can be manipulated. In that sense, it is not merely historical. It resonates in a contemporary world where misinformation, sleight-of-hand politics, and manipulation of attention are everywhere. The magician’s art has migrated not just into intelligence agencies but into media, advertising, politics. What the CIA once did in the shadows is now, in many ways, a mass phenomenon. Reading the manual today is to glimpse the genealogy of a world where deception is systemic.
Melton and Wallace have done an important service in bringing this text to light, not because it arms the reader with usable tricks, but because it illuminates a chapter of history that is too strange to be forgotten. It is a reminder that intelligence work is not only about James Bond glamour but about the minutiae of hand movement, the choreography of deception, the conversion of stage magic into state weaponry. It is also a meditation on how knowledge circulates, mutates, and changes moral valence. The same gesture that once delighted an audience in a theatre became, in CIA hands, an instrument of manipulation. That is the true trick revealed by the manual: the way context transforms meaning. Reading it, you are forced to confront not only the ingenuity of spies but also the pliability of human skills and the fragility of ethical boundaries.
As the pages close, one is left with a cocktail of emotions—fascination, unease, amusement, and reflection. The book is both artefact and allegory, both a curiosity from the Cold War and a mirror for our present. It is proof that history often hides its strangest truths in plain sight, waiting to be rediscovered. And in 2012, when the world was joking about Mayan calendars, stumbling upon this manual was a reminder that the real apocalypse is always closer to home, hidden in the sleight-of-hand of those who govern, manipulate, and deceive. The trick, as always, is not to be fooled.
Read this of you are an aficionado of espionage and encourage others to read it too.
pealkiri on suht täpne, aga mitte nii, nagu võiks oodata. mulle meeldis, väga huvitav ja informatiivne lugemine. also, ma ei tea, kumb autoritest nii kirjutas, aga naisi puudutavad monendid on lih nii naljakad - respectful manly self-awareness of female-things on nagu sõõm värsket õhku tänapäevaste teoste keskel
No, this isn't a book that reveals CIA secrets... per se. I love history, and I love some of the "black" history even more. Black meaning covert government programs that were all rage during the cold war. I don't know, but I have to think that other than terrorism, a lot of the covert programs just aren't as much fun as they used to be! The book chronicles the use of modern (of their time) master magicians to help the CIA learn how to master trickery and deception in their spying activities. How cool is that for a premise.
This is a very easy read and a fun book on how the CIA has done some of its magic in the past. Most of the items in the book can be found on the Internet, but if you go that route, you'll miss some.
One of my favorite quotes: "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic" - Ya gotta love it!
The back story on this book is an intriguing one, but in no way deserving of the 80+ repetitive pages of foreword and introduction before actually getting to the declassified material. The techniques of trickery themselves are quite interesting, but frankly, I couldn't bring myself to spend the time to finish it. All in all, I'd say this book is worth skimming, but not digesting in depth. In fact, I dare say that the very best thing about this book is its art design.
If I were in grade school, this book would bore me. I'm reading about 50 books a year, and this garbage got in my way. If I were an imbecile, this would make for interesting reading. But my brain is larger than a pea. Therefore, I must reject this heap of word-jumble for what it is: the remains of a bowel movement.
This is interesting history. The first part tells the story/history of the manual, then the rest is the manual. I like the history. Manual not as much. Not a waste of time, but more a curiosity. Should be of interest to those who like magic. Close up magic especially.
The first half of the book is informative and well written, the second half - the actual declassified manual - is exceedingly dry, repetitive, and not terribly enlightening.
Have just retrained my self some Scout signallings, but more sophisticated and full of deception. Covert signals with package’s ribbons and bows, shoelaces, colored pens, rubber bands, and buttons are quite old school but will be useful in time of total darkness.
My favourite quote I found in the book was on Houdini and magic tricks: “the proper secret..to use is the one indicated as best under the conditions and circumstances of the performance.” This is so freakin deep for a streetwise like me. Been searching this kind of sentence to express what we’ve been learned on the streets for more than 9 years.
Chapter VI, you will find it interesting because it discusses how manners for woman are more restrictive and rigid than are those for men. It surely does root in the paternalistic world, where in parts of the world, cultures restrict women to do, to carry, to dress, and to speak very differently than in country where gender disparity is less wide. So, the key takeaway is that it is essential for (women) trickster to inform him/herself with all taboos in where he/she is to operate. It reminds me the first time I landed in Bali Island back in 2007.
Once a top secret manual thought to have been lost, this declassified work detailing the ‘how to’ for sleight of hand and trickery that made the CIA operatives during the Cold War struggle against the Soviets winnable. The history of the manual’s construction was the brainchild of early 20th century magician John Mulholland, and the evolution of techniques he, and likes of Houdini, are described in fascinating detail. Step by step instructions for both men and women, and their assistants, as applicable, instruct them on how to steal, plant, and exchange all manner of items using deception, their hands, casual mannerisms, their clothing (pockets, sleeves, etc.), and the like. Trinkets such as containers for carrying liquids, a rat’s body (sans organs), and specially milled coins also convey items like notes and microfilm. A perfect book for those interested in the history of the Cold War and intelligence gathering techniques.
This was mainly interesting in that it may actually exist. If it does, it's a pretty silly manual of real magicians' secrets applied to highly unlikely espionage situations. On second thought, these are exactly the kinds of stupid things the CIA used to try and assassinate Castro... exploding cigars, rings with secret poison reservoirs, etc. The chances of agents sitting down and learning these techniques seems pretty slim, not that they might not work as magic tricks, but that they might not work as spy craft. This is full of the lowest Spy vs Spy sort of spycraft silliness.
The introduction is very interesting! The part that the book is ACTUALLY about is not very interesting, and much too specific and long-lipped. The text was never meant to be published for large audiences, and that’s why it’s kind of a snore (a real book would have been edited by an editor, and that would’ve helped side step these mines). Also, the book is very old, so most of the tricks aren’t applicable anymore (eg you can’t smoke inside anymore and almost nobody smokes plus women actually CAN pull out their own chairs and have credible skills beyond ”looking blank”).
Not the best book in the later sections as it is supposedly the actual CIA book indicated in the title. The first section was more of an author's explanation of the reason the book existed and some of the history of the timeframe... 1930s - 1960s. These were certainly interesting times, but one could argue the same in today's world (2025). As I'm not interested in "magic" I did find many of the "tricks" uninteresting, but it was good to think about why a spy needs to use such techniques in order to complete their assigned mission.
not an awful read but quite tedious and repetitive at times the introduction is quite interesting but once you get to the meat of the story it gets dull pretty quick it's a tad bit dating as one would imagine but I'm not really counting that against it you may or may not like it it was kind of boring to me. but it could the interesting to you especially if you are into this sort of thing
The history is interesting. The "trickery" is interesting, but offset by the writing. To quote the author of the manual (page 91), "At this point (very possibly at an earlier paragraph) the reader comes to the conclusion that the writer is extremely verbose in explaining a few simple points." I could not have said it better. But I could have said it shorter.
The techniques outlined in this book range from the idiotic to the mildly interesting. The most interesting aspect of it is the cultural commentary on gender from Mulholland’s perspective; times have certainly changed since this was written.
An entertaining preface but the body of the text is dull stuff about how to slip a pill into someone's martini, and so on. The close quarters "trickery" is far more entertainingly conveyed in The Americans tbh.
This declassified manual from the 1950s (seemingly) accurately identifies the following problem for lady spies: "Depending on the type of attire, women have no pockets at all or very few. And women's pockets are always the wrong size and construction."
Interesting look at magician's tricks once used by the CIA. But really outdated. I liked reading this "Official Manual" but I am hesitant to recommend it. There are far better accounts (or just study Houdini).