Among all religious artifacts, few carry as much mystery, devotion, and debate as the Shroud of Turin. Could it truly be the burial cloth that covered Jesus in the tomb? Are the images on the Shroud his—and were they miraculously imprinted by the power of the Resurrection? For those Christians who believe in a physical resurrection, does the evidence gathered by scientists offer some assurance of a bodily event? A testament to Christianity? Even proof of God’s existence?

  • Might much of the evidence be wrong—or misunderstood?
  • Might the Shroud be nothing more than “skillfully depicted art”?

Enter Hugh Farey once again, with one of his meticulously crafted blog posts. In “How was it done?” he methodically dismantles the fortress of certainty so many have built around this mysterious cloth. He does so brick by careful brick.

This may be the most important article you’ll read in 2025 about the Shroud of Turin. If you’re planning to attend the St. Louis conference this summer, consider Hugh Farey’s post required reading—essential preparation for anyone serious about the subject.

Farey begins by exposing the historical contradiction at the heart of the Shroud narrative. While medieval accounts from Pierre d’Arcis and Cornelius Zantfleit explicitly described it as “skillfully depicted art,” modern proponents have created an elaborate framework suggesting it defies human creation. This tension between history and belief forms the backdrop for Farey’s analytical journey.

The 1978 STURP investigation—often treated as the definitive scientific examination—comes under Farey’s scrutiny with surprising results. He questions whether adhesive tape sampling, which collected mere fragments from the cloth’s surface, could provide representative data. What if the very act of collection altered what was being studied? What if key evidence remained untouched, hidden in areas never sampled?

Particularly compelling is Farey’s deconstruction of what he calls “authenticist dogma”—the litany of supposedly impossible characteristics recited to prove the Shroud transcends human capability: no outlines, no brushstrokes, extreme superficiality, no directionality. Rather than accepting these as established facts, Farey reframes them as interpretations potentially colored by predetermined conclusions.

The most powerful aspect of Farey’s approach is its experimental foundation. Instead of merely theorizing, he demonstrates through practical tests how simple medieval techniques could create effects remarkably similar to those on the Shroud. By dabbing paint or tempera from a bas-relief onto linen, he produces images lacking clear outlines or brushstrokes, exhibiting the negative characteristics and even generating convincing 3D renderings when processed through modern software.

His critique of the “no image under bloodstains” claim—often presented as definitive proof of authenticity—reveals the fragility of scientific certainty. Farey meticulously unpacks Alan Adler’s protease experiments, exposing methodological limitations and questionable interpretations that have gone largely unchallenged for decades.

The pigment debate, long considered settled in favor of authenticity, reopens under Farey’s examination. While acknowledging Walter McCrone found red ochre particles, Farey suggests a more nuanced reality: perhaps the primary image formation involves yellowing of the fibers themselves, with pigment playing a secondary role. This hybrid explanation might reconcile seemingly contradictory observations from both camps.

When Farey sent his experimental samples to prominent Shroud researcher Giulio Fanti, the response exemplified the challenges facing objective Shroud research. According to Farey, Fanti’s analysis systematically dismissed similarities based on criteria that seemed designed to protect predetermined conclusions rather than evaluate evidence objectively.

Farey’s work doesn’t claim to have perfectly replicated the Shroud—a standard no theory has yet achieved. Rather, it demonstrates that supposedly inexplicable features can indeed be reproduced using techniques available in medieval times. In doing so, he shifts the burden of proof back to those claiming miraculous origins.

What makes Farey’s contribution so valuable isn’t that it disproves authenticity but that it restores intellectual honesty to a field where it has often been sacrificed on the altar of certainty. His work reminds us that doubt isn’t the enemy of truth—it’s essential to finding it.