海角大神

The next best thing to a time machine, says A.J. Jacobs, is a wardrobe change. Dressing and acting like someone from another era subtly alters how you think and see the world, he explains: 鈥淭he outer affects the inner.鈥�

So, when Mr. Jacobs authored 鈥淭he Year of Living Biblically,鈥� a bestselling book about trying to obey every rule in the Old and New Testaments, he grew a bushy, Karl Marx-style beard (per instructions in Leviticus) and roamed the streets of New York in a flowing robe and sandals.聽

Likewise, for his newest project, 鈥淭he Year of Living Constitutionally,鈥� he donned a tricorne hat, lugged a musket around town, and shunned electricity in favor of reading by candlelight and writing with a goose quill pen. The goal was to climb inside the heads of America鈥檚 Founding Fathers and explore the logic of basing today鈥檚 Supreme Court rulings on an originalist interpretation of the Constitution.

Mr. Jacobs practices a modern form of 鈥渟tunt journalism,鈥� in which the reporter directly participates in a story instead of merely observing it. 鈥淚 like to understand things by living them,鈥� he says. Immersion journalism, as it is also called, dates to the 1800s in the U.S.

Although Mr. Jacobs didn鈥檛 invent the genre, he has put his own stamp on it.

鈥淗e uses immersive experiments not just for spectacle, but to explore deeper truths about human behavior and societal norms,鈥� says Peter McGraw, a humor researcher and professor of marketing and psychology at the University of Colorado Boulder. 鈥淗is work brings comedy and insight together, making complex topics accessible and engaging.鈥澛�

Nonetheless, understanding things by living them is easier said than done when attempting to conjure the late 1700s from an apartment on Manhattan鈥檚 Upper West Side. As one historian warned him, 鈥淭he past is another country. It鈥檚 like trying to get inside the mind of a mollusk.鈥�

Undaunted, Mr. Jacobs plunged ahead in frequently comic fashion, chronicling his efforts with a blend of humor, fascinating facts, and quirky trivia: In the nation鈥檚 formative years, before settling on the title of 鈥減resident,鈥� officials considered 鈥淗is Highness,鈥� 鈥淗is Excellency,鈥� and even 鈥淲ashington,鈥� in the same way 鈥渃zar鈥� derives from Julius Caesar.

Marinating in the Bible and the Constitution 鈥� along with other lifestyle experiments 鈥� produced surprising aftereffects, Mr. Jacobs says. Most are positive, but there鈥檚 a caveat. Playing a role 24/7 sometimes drives his wife and three sons bonkers.

鈥淓very dad is embarrassing to his children,鈥� Mr. Jacobs notes, 鈥渂ut I鈥檓 embarrassing on a different level.鈥�

Why become a 鈥渉uman guinea pig鈥�?

A La-Z-Boy recliner sparked his transformation into a self-described 鈥渉uman guinea pig.鈥�

In 1990, after earning a philosophy degree at Brown University and realizing that 鈥渘o Fortune 500 firms were hiring in-house philosophers,鈥� he turned to journalism, landing at Entertainment Weekly.

There, he penned an article about spending 24 hours aboard a turbocharged chair equipped with built-in telephone, beverage compartment, massager, and answering machine. 鈥淚 thought maybe I could put myself in other unusual situations or experiments,鈥� Mr. Jacobs recalls thinking. A few years later, that eureka moment germinated into 鈥淭he Know-It-All,鈥� an 18-month quest to read the entire Encyclopaedia Britannica and become 鈥渢he smartest person in the world.鈥� The book cracked bestseller lists, but 鈥� in a portent of future family resistance 鈥� Mr. Jacobs鈥� wife began fining him $1 every time he injected an 鈥渋rrelevant fact鈥� into conversations.

So began a steady stream of off-the-wall exploits, such as trying to live without plastic for 24 hours or outsourcing his life (including arguments with his spouse and reading bedtime stories to his kids) to India.

From Nellie Bly to George Plimpton

Stunt journalism has a long history in the U.S. In 1887, Nellie Bly had herself committed to what was then called an insane asylum and wrote about the nightmarish conditions for Joseph Pulitzer鈥檚 New York World newspaper. On a lighter note, inspired by Jules Verne鈥檚 novel 鈥淎round the World in Eighty Days,鈥� she circled the globe in 72 days while filing dispatches along the way.

More recently, George Plimpton posed as a quarterback trying out for the Detroit Lions, and turned it into a book. He followed that with stints as a circus acrobat and symphony musician.

Mr. Jacobs, who read Mr. Plimpton in high school, continues that tradition.

To prepare for 鈥淭he Year of Living Constitutionally,鈥� Mr. Jacobs spent three months devouring history books and consulting legal experts of all stripes, including one who was 鈥渟o originalist he refuses to capitalize the word supreme in Supreme Court鈥� because it鈥檚 lowercase in the Constitution.

Once underway, Mr. Jacobs dined with ye olde two-pronged forks (a culinary disaster, he says), wore garters to hold up his elastic-free woolen stockings, and splattered so much quill ink (which is made from the nests of wasp larvae) that 鈥渕y clothes started to look like a Jackson Pollock painting.鈥�

There were several concessions to modern times. To visit a Revolutionary War reenactment in New Jersey, he drove a car. (鈥淚t鈥檚 hard to find a place that rents horses for interstate travel,鈥� he quips.) And he ordered much of his garb online. Also, even though the 16th Amendment 鈥� which ushered in the federal income tax 鈥� didn鈥檛 pass until 1909, Mr. Jacobs happily deducted the cost of his musket and other accoutrements as business expenses.

Some of his attempts to revive 18th-century rituals, such as voting aloud on Election Day instead of by secret ballot, played like 鈥淐andid Camera鈥� pranks, drawing astonished reactions. The funniest was when he met with Rep. Ro Khanna of California. Mr. Jacobs formally applied 鈥� under an obscure passage in the Constitution 鈥� to have Congress deputize him as a pirate so he could commandeer a water-ski boat to seize enemy vessels, a practice that helped colonists defeat the British.聽

鈥淲ow,鈥� Representative Khanna reportedly replied. 鈥淲e will look into this.鈥�

Throughout the book, Mr. Jacobs uses such antics to examine how America鈥檚 founding document was interpreted in the 1780s versus now. Free speech, for example, was originally reined in by bans on blasphemy, cussing, and even certain theater performances. And the First Amendment鈥檚 sanction against establishing an official religion applied only to the federal government, not states.

鈥淭his project made me grateful for democracy,鈥� Mr. Jacobs reports, 鈥渁nd for modern forks.鈥� Today, he still writes by quill, saying the slower process encourages more thoughtfulness. And though he no longer reads Ben Franklin鈥檚 twice-weekly 1790 newspaper, he decided to stick with that era鈥檚 reduced media diet because the current 鈥渇irehose of negative news鈥� undermines mental health.

Meanwhile, his family is happy to have everyone in the household living in the same century again. Jasper, the oldest son, enjoyed his dad鈥檚 costumed escapades, likening them to 鈥減erformance art.鈥� But his twin teenage brothers felt mortified. In public, 鈥渢hey wouldn鈥檛 let me wear my tricorne hat within 50 yards of them,鈥� Mr. Jacobs says.

The 18th-century props also jangled his wife鈥檚 nerves on occasion. She outlawed the scratch-scratch-scratch of the quill in her presence. And she nixed the burning of beef tallow candles in the apartment, saying they reeked of 鈥渦nrefrigerated meat loaf.鈥� Mr. Jacobs switched to beeswax.

鈥淢y wife would tell you I go overboard,鈥� he acknowledges.聽

In this case, the immersion was so intense that she advised Mr. Jacobs to take a six-month break before turning himself into a Viking or whatever might be next. 鈥淪he was a constitutional widow,鈥� he says. 鈥淪o I鈥檓 taking a quick respite.鈥�