From gold masks in ancient tombs to athletes’ pre-race rituals, superstition has shaped human culture and behavior throughout history. What purposes do such beliefs serve, and how have they evolved to meet the challenges of the modern information age?
Two thousand years ago, in the sands of Arabia, a princess of no more than ten was buried with jewels and a solid gold mask. The mask, unearthed in 1988 at Tell al-Zayer, reveals an era where the head was guarded against demons on the journey to the afterlife. But is superstition just a relic of antiquity? Or does it still shape us, even in the age of artificial intelligence? As playwright Eduardo De Filippo warned: “Being superstitious is ignorant, but not being superstitious brings bad luck!”
From the Latin amoliri (“to ward off”), amulets, talismans, and fetishes have long guarded against evil. Horseshoes, relics, red horns, and ex-votos transcend their use, becoming vessels of luck. Rituals, too, embody superstition: actors shouting “shit shit shit” backstage, Chad youth scarifying their faces to mark adulthood, or theatre-goers avoiding purple.
Even temples of science and art bow to superstition. At Milan’s La Scala, musicians refuse to say La forza del destino, considered bad luck. NASA engineers once performed rituals while receiving images from Pluto. Humans are wired to find patterns and causes, even when none exist. MotoE rider Kevin Zannoni, for instance, always dresses in the same order before a race. In Pisa, students avoid the leaning tower before graduation, “on pain of never graduating.”
Why persist in irrational acts? Because caution once ensured survival. Seeing a broken branch as a threat may have saved our ancestors’ lives. As anthropologist James George Frazer noted, superstition also reinforced marriage, property, and social order. The Roman wedding veil protected couples, but also concealed their faces until vows were sworn.
Superstition offers comfort in helplessness. Even renowned surgeons refuse to operate on Friday the 17th, or drivers make gestures against bad luck. Yet it also harms: sharks killed for aphrodisiac fins, birds shot to “guard against infidelity,” or polar bears slain as rites of passage.
Still, rituals can aid. Studies show that enacting rituals before delicate tasks reduces brain error signals. Athletes, too, rely on amulets and gestures to focus, entering a “competitive trance.” Problems arise when rituals replace preparation, hence the rise of mental coaches to untangle insecurity from superstition.
Despite progress, belief in luck thrives. Horoscopes fill newspapers, fortune tellers prosper, amulets sell in stalls. Technology itself has not banished magical thinking: as usability expert Jakob Nielsen observed, the dreaded blue screen leaves users in “a realm of terror,” superstition reborn in modern form.
Perhaps Arthur C. Clarke was right: “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” Superstition, ancient and enduring, continues to weave ritual and meaning into lives still shadowed by uncertainty.