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Superstitions - personal scribbles


 
Conspiracy theories blossom in tumultuous times: Researchers

When German bombs flattened some London neighbourhoods during the Blitz but didn't touch others, the rumour mill spread theories of Nazi sympathizers in areas that escaped bombing.

Canwest News Service
Oct 2, 2008

Last week's collapse of Washington Mutual spread its own conspiracy theory: That the U.S. government made the huge bank go bust in order to persuade people a massive financial bailout is needed.

Two chaotic times - both with conspiracy theories.

Friday in the research journal Science, scientists report they have traced where conspiracy theories and superstitions begin - in our need to impose order on chaos when we fear life is spinning out of control.

People who feel out of control are the most likely to "see" patterns where there are none. They blame government plots, or trust that a lucky pair of socks will help them win the lottery. And in psychology tests, they literally see patterns on a page of random, grainy dots.

That's where psychologist Adam Galinsky comes in. He gathered 100 volunteers, shook up the confidence of some, calmed the rest down and watched as the group that felt upset started reporting patterns and events that didn't exist.

People whose confidence was shaken were likely to see non-existence patterns on paper. They also started to see odd cause-and-effect relationships, such as believing that someone did well in a business meeting because he superstitiously tapped his foot three times before the meeting.

Galinsky teaches business at Northwestern University in Illinois. He and colleague Jennifer Whitson of the University of Texas wrote the article.

"A quest for structure or understanding leads people to trick themselves into seeing and believing connections that simply don't exist," the researchers conclude.

That, the professor says, is because we have a desperate need to feel in control.

"When people think they have control over a medical procedure, they recover more quickly. When people think they can control the outcome, they can endure more pain . . . When people think they have control over a task, they make fewer errors in that task.

"The less control people have over their lives, the more likely they are to try and regain control through mental gymnastics," Galinsky said.

"Feelings of control are so important to people that a lack of control is inherently threatening. While some misperceptions can be bad or lead one astray, they're extremely common and most likely satisfy a deep and enduring psychological need."

And those lucky socks, or little rituals we do to bring good luck?

"Quirky and usually harmless," the scientists decided - but with a catch. People who believe in little superstitions like these are also more likely to believe in sinister conspiracies on a large scale.

"In all these situations, people are finding a meaningful relationship among a random set of unconnected stimuli," the researcher said.
 

Regarding Friday 13th:  "Think of it as '1101' in Binary notation, or '15' in Octal notation, if it worries you!" - Terry Moseley, 2006
 

Friday the 13th, 2029
Friday the 13th is supposed to be an unlucky day, the sort of day you trip on your shoe laces or lose your wallet or get bad news. But maybe it's not so bad. Consider this: On April 13th - Friday the 13th - 2029, millions of people are going to go outside, look up and marvel at their good luck. A point of light will be gliding across the sky, faster than many satellites, brighter than most stars. What's so lucky about that? It's asteroid 2004 MN4 ... not hitting Earth.
 
Birmingham Mail, Mon 16th October 2006



Mind games

From the way she ties her laces to how she bounces the ball, Serena Williams has intrigued Wimbledon with her strange rituals. She's not unusual, says Barney Ronay - sports stars are a superstitious bunch

Barney Ronay
July 4, 2007

Guardian

The golfer Gary Player once said: "The harder I practise, the luckier I get." Serena Williams would no doubt agree with this, but perhaps only if she could add a footnote along the lines of "as long as I've tied my shoelaces the right way and remembered to have a shower in the same cubicle before each match".
Coverage of Serena's run to the quarter finals of Wimbledon this week has been accompanied by revelations about how relentlessly superstitious the former champion is on and off the court. Her current matchplay rituals include always bouncing the ball five times before her first serve and twice before the second. She carries around a personal scrapbook of motivational jottings - stuff like "You R No1" and "You will win WIMBLEDON" - that she likes to pore over between games. Her sister Venus has denied the pair were witnessed chopping towels into "lucky" small squares in the locker room. Even more supernatural drama awaits should Serena progress to face Ana Ivanovic, who admits to bouncing the ball just once before serving and avoiding stepping on white lines between points. It would set the scene for a furious battle of fluke, fetish and counter-hex that, quite frankly, you just wouldn't want to call.

Superstition is rife in professional sport. Scratch the surface and at times it seems the whole supercharged global business is governed solely by its own secret juju of lucky beards, decisive urinals and mysteriously omnipotent R&B tracks. The most likely explanation for all this is probably to do with the type of person who gets to be very good at sport. There's nothing particularly rational about devoting every moment of your youth to perfecting the ability to hit a ball inside a white line. Only those who can focus obsessively on honing a single, otherwise totally useless skill will ever succeed. Most of us have come across people like that once or twice. And, let's face it, they are always a bit loopy.

Status is no bar. Even the most successful sports people tend to rely on some form of personal voodoo. Tiger Woods may have won 79 professional golf tournaments, but how much of this is down to talent and how much to the fact that he always wears a red jumper on a Sunday? Woods has rationalised his hokum by saying he associates the colour with "strength and assertiveness" (rather than, say, reading the weather on GMTV), but he needn't have bothered. Golf is, after all, the most fickle of sports, hostage to variables that lie outside the most punishing fitness regime or the most thorough tactical plan. We all need a bit of luck. But how do you get it, exactly?

Williams isn't the first tennis player to put her faith in ritual. Bjrn Borg always wore the same pinstripe kit at Wimbledon and would let his beard grow prior to the tournament. Sports Illustrated once had a pre-SW19 Borg cover story captioned: "The beard has begun." More recently, Russian player Marat Safin is rumoured to travel with a scary-sounding "evil eye" given to him by his sister to help ward off malevolent spirits.

Professional football has long been racked with fetish and fancy. England and Chelsea captain John Terry claims to have "about 50" pre-match superstitions. The most powerful of these involved wearing the same lucky shin-guards for over a decade. Disastrously, Terry lost them before the first leg of a 2004 Champions League tie in Barcelona. "Those shin-pads had got me to where I was in the game," he said, not, apparently, joking. "I was thinking, 'Fucking hell, I've had those shin-pads for so long and now this is it, all over." Chelsea lost the match.

David Beckham, Terry's predecessor as captain, has attributed his own rag-bag of pre-match routines to a form of obsessive compulsive disorder. Beckham always wears long sleeves and a fresh pair of boots for each game, while at home he repeatedly arranges his cola cans to face the same way in the fridge door and insists on buying exactly 20 packets of noodles on a visit to the supermarket. In isolation, these might sound like the symptoms of a troubled individual; in football, they seem pretty much par for the course. Former England goalkeeper David James goes into the toilets before a game, waits until they're empty and then spits on the wall. Fellow keeper Peter Schmeichel insisted on parrying exactly 100 shots before each game. Paul Ince always left his shirt off until he got on to the pitch, a routine that even survived his career progression from whippet-slim tyro to bulky senior pro. Former Leeds and England manager Don Revie insisted on wearing his "lucky" blue suit even when, after several years, it had begun to fall into serious disrepair. Revie also had a fear of ornamental elephants and a distrust of birds as symbols - so much so that he eventually removed the owl from the Leeds club crest.

Fending off curses remains a preoccupation in football: the former Birmingham manager Barry Fry urinated in each corner of the club's St Andrew's ground in order to lift a spell. Last season Manchester City coach Stuart Pearce kept a toy horse called Beanie on the touchline to help ward off a losing run. Beanie was eventually dispensed with after a 4-0 defeat by Wigan.

No sport is immune. The Australian cricketer Andrew Symonds relies on his scary, clown-like white sun cream, even wearing it during an indoor match in 2005. Fellow Australian Steve Waugh took to the crease with a corner of his lucky red handkerchief sticking out of his pocket. A section of the handkerchief has since been put on display in the Australian museum of sport.

No African Nations football tournament is complete without accusations over the unfair use of pre-match witchcraft. And the former Chelsea player Adrian Mutu, a Romanian, once declared, "Curses cannot touch me because I wear my underwear inside out," tapping into a particular national trait: the entire Romania team bleached their hair blond during the 1998 World, apparently to break a jinx placed on the team by a senior figure in the Romanian Orthodox Church.


If I didnt know any better

 I would believe I was an inherently lucky person, benefiting from a mysterious universal force sprinkling luck on my life.

For instance, in August 2004 I attended an entertaining performance called "Lady Luck" by comedienne Lucy Porter at Edinburghs Fringe Festival (see article below). As it turned out, my friend and I ended up enjoying the show for reasons beyond those of the other audience members.

However before I elaborate, I need to explain that when it comes to luck, superstition, astrology and other pseudoscience; I am a proactive sceptic. To date, there is absolutely no evidence supporting such beliefs (even though it would be the easiest thing in the world to demonstrate proof). Therefore, one of my personal passions is to enlighten people about such erroneous thinking. For example, as a science museum professional I recently put together a successful and entertaining public programme called "Superstition - Science Fact or Fantasy?" (see: www.superstition.dimaggio.org ). Amongst other things, visitors are encouraged to deliberately disregard potentially malevolent superstitions; witness an apparent psychic feat; and discover the shortcomings of astrology. All of these activities are designed to promote healthy rational thought. This programme has caught on with other science museums, and is now hosted every time Friday 13th comes around. 

In fact, one reason why I enjoyed Lucy Porters show so much was because in her performance she did exactly what we do in our programme smashed a mirror; walked under a ladder; opened an umbrella indoors; spilled salt (lots of it!); and much more. She also successfully weaved into her show what investigators have discovered about good luck and how our attitudes actually influence our personal dosage of luck. Lucy Porter did all of this in a wonderfully comical manner, something that we science educators could learn a lot from.

Nevertheless, the strange thing about this particular performance was that Lucy held a lucky draw at the end to determine who in the audience was blessed with good luck. And out of approximately 160 people, guess who won the prize? 

Me(!) Being likely the most sceptical, non-believing person in the entire theatre!

The odd thing is, I am in fact the luckiest person I know. I have won a brand new motorcar, I win occasional raffles; nothing big on the Lottery yet - just a few small cheques. And in this case, I must admit I felt great anticipation during the build-up, as I realised winning this particular draw would turn out to be the greatest paradox! 

Strange isn't it? 

However, I still don't believe in luck. It's all mere co-incidence. 

Lucy Porter ended her show by saying the exact same thing.  

After which a bright light appeared above me, and I was sprinkled with glitter 
 

Mario Di Maggio
August 2004


Very superstitious

Are black cats lucky? What should you do if you spill salt? And why is touching wood a good idea? In his new book, A Pocket Guide to Superstitions of the British Isles, Steve Roud answers these questions and many more - just in time for Halloween

Steve Roud
Tuesday October 26 2004
The Guardian

Superstition is a pretty slippery concept, and we need to examine what we mean by it. The simple statement that a superstition is an irrational belief is quite adequate for most purposes, as long as we don't enquire too closely into the meaning of the word 'irrational'. But not every irrational belief gets labelled as superstition, so we need to look a bit closer. One of the key characteristics of superstition is a belief in the existence of luck, as a real force in life, and that luck can be predicted by signs, and can be controlled or influenced by particular actions or words. Other key elements include a belief in fate, which again can be predicted and manipulated, and a belief in fate, which again can only be described as magic - the idea that people can be harmed or protected by spells, charms, amulets, curses, witchcraft, and so on.

Superstitions are also unofficial knowledge, in that they run counter to the official teachings of religion, school, science, and government, and this is precisely why - even in the 21st century - many of us like to hold onto a few, to show that we are not totally ruled by science and hard fact.

The Pocket Guide To Superstitions is a book of historical research, the result of years of searching for examples of superstitions in every source we can think of - novels, plays, poetry, children's books, newspapers, magazines, diaries - going back as far as we can. We also listened to people on buses, on the radio, in the playground, in the supermarket, and so on, to learn what is being said and done now.

We examined statements, and asked questions. It is frequently said, for example, that the fear of spilling salt goes back to the Last Supper and, to prove it,  that Leonardo Da Vinci's painting of the event shows Judas spilling salt. But it doesn't. One piece of 'evidence' put forward to support the completely groundless idea that 'Ring a ring a roses' goes back to the plague is that sneezing was a main symptom of that disease. It wasn't. It turns out that Friday 13th is a Victorian invention. 'Touch wood', it is claimed, is based on a belief in tree spirits, but is there evidence we ever believed in tree spirits?

What we ended up with was a mass of material on the subject, which was organised and analysed to provide data for informed judgements instead of guesses. The first principle of the historical approach is that if a superstition cannot be found before, say, 1850, the idea that it has survived from an ancient fertility ritual or pre-Christian sacrifice 1,200 years before seems a bit far-fetched. If it existed in that time, how come nobody noticed it? And if there is no evidence for its existence, how can we base our theory of origin on it? If it had existed underground for all that time it would probably have changed beyond all recognition anyway (imagine a game of Chinese whispers lasting for 1,200 years), so an examination of the modern version is unlikely to tell us anything about the original. Our historical approach enabled us to make estimates of the age, development, and relative popularity of particular beliefs, and start to make general statements about how superstitions function. Occasionally, our research also threw light on the question of how superstitions arose in the first place.

One thing which became obvious when we compared a whole mass of reported superstitions was that most are based on a small number of principles which are repeated time and time again in different guises, and the formulae can tell us a great deal. The two most widespread, for example, are that you must not tempt fate (don't count your chickens before they're hatched) and that beginnings dictate the future course of events. The concern for good beginnings is reflected in the first-footing customs at New Year, giving a baby a coin to ensure future good fortune, getting out of bed on the correct side to start the day well, and so on. On the negative side, don't stumble as you leave the house, don't see an unlucky person on the way to your fishing boat, and so on. A third principle, far more complex if fully analysed, is that the natural world 'knows' what is going to happen in human life - a robin tapping at the window means a death in the house very soon; a dog howling at your door means the same.

The world of superstition is essentially a symbolic one, although in most cases only on a very simple level. Money in the pocket at a key moment (for example, when hearing the first cuckoo in spring) stands for prosperity in the coming year, whereas an empty purse symbolises want. A piece of coal carried by a first footer represents warmth and comfort; an upturned bowl in a seafaring family stands for an upturned ship. This feeling for the symbolic is often little more than a weak pun - washing on certain days 'washes one of the family away', for example, or 'turn your chair to turn your luck'.

Another conclusion that is clearly supported by a historical review is that we, as a society, are much less superstitious than we were 100, or even 50, years ago. Although few people (myself included) can claim to be completely free of superstition, many of us only play at it nowadays. This claim can be demonstrated in several different ways, most notably by asking someone to name 10 superstitions; most people will not be able to get beyond five without really thinking hard about it, whereas a century ago, the average person would have known dozens.

Even those we still know are relatively colourless, being nearly always simply a matter of 'bad luck', whereas in the past they would have had more individual meanings - a death, you won't get married, a stranger is coming, and so on. Regional differences have been largely ironed out, and the same beliefs are found all over the country. But the real acid test is that however superstitious a person may think they are, few act on their superstitions in the way previous generations did. Who would accept being turned down for a job because they had red hair or the wrong sun sign? Who would phone work and say, "I can't be in today because I saw a magpie as I left home"? We might try a traditional cure like a key down the back for a nosebleed, but who would accept a verbal charm rather than hospital treatment to stop real bleeding? Who would tell a young mother that her baby will die if she weighs it, or lets it see its reflection in a mirror? And so on, through hundreds of different superstitions which were believed and acted upon only a century ago.

But why were people so superstitious? It is usually assumed that superstition is the result of fear and uncertainty - an attempt to control the parts of life that are in fact beyond our understanding or control. This is largely true, and there is some evidence that superstition is more prevalent in people involved in dangerous occupations, and increases in times of particular uncertainty, such as during a war. But there are other forces involved. Superstitions are passed on from person to person, often within a family, and take on the authority of tradition. It must be said that, in the past, various people made a living out of their neighbour's willingness to believe in magical cures, love potions, and the need for protection against ill-wishing.

The main reason for the decline of superstition in modern times is that many of these uncertainties have declined - whole areas of life, from the trivial to the life-threatening, have had the mystery and danger removed from them to a large extent. Childhood diseases still exist, and parents still have worries, but nothing compared with a century ago. Changes in everyday technology have brought almost instant death to many beliefs. The light-bulb and the radiator provide little scope for superstition, or romance, whereas the candle and the open fire had plenty. Baking bread, turning the bed, churning butter, washing by hand, sweeping the house, laying out a corpse n the front room, killing a pig - all these activities were highly charged with beliefs, but have changed beyond recognition, or disappeared from our lives completely. How many of us know the phases of the moon?

It could be argued that superstitious impulses in society are not dead, but are simply resurfacing in the guise of alternative medicines, unofficial pick-and-mix religions, astrology, conspiracy theories, and new-age cults and gurus of various kinds. But one major area where most of us can claim to be less prone to irrational thinking is in the matter of witchcraft. However badly things are going, however ill we may feel, few would think that the cause was our neighbour's spite or the spells of a witch. In this area at least, people nowadays have more sense.

This is an edited extract from A Pocket Guide to Superstitions of the British Isles, by Steve Roud, published by Penguin.
 
 
Superstition resources:
 
http://www.tellallproductions.com/superstition/
 

 
Of Superstition

Sir
Francis Bacon (1561-1626)
Renaissance author, courtier, and father of deductive reasoning.

"It were better to have no opinion of God at all than such an opinion as is unworthy of him; for the one is unbelief, the other is contumely: and certainly superstition is the reproach of the Deity. Plutarch saith well to that purpose; Surely, saith he, I had rather a great deal men should say there was no such man at all as Plutarch, than that they should say that there was one Plutarch that would eat his children as soon as they were born; as the poets speak of Saturn. And, as the contumely is greater towards God, so the danger is greater towards men. Atheism leaves a man to sense, to philosophy, to natural piety, to laws, to reputation: all which may be guides to an outward moral virtue, though religion were not; but superstition dismounts all these, and erecteth an absolute monarchy in the minds of men. Therefore atheism did never perturb states; for it makes men wary of themselves, as looking no further; and we see the times inclined to atheism (as the time of Augustus Caesar) were civil times; but superstition hath been the confusion of many states, and bringeth in a new primum mobile that ravisheth all the spheres of government. The master of superstition is the people; and in all superstition wise men follow fools; and arguments are fitted to practice in a reversed order. It was gravely said by some of the prelates in the Council of Trent, where the doctrine of the schoolmen bare great sway, that the schoolmen were like astronomers, which did feign eccentrics and epicycles, and such engines of orbs to save the phenomena, though they knew there were no such things; and, in like manner, that the schoolmen had framed a number of subtile and intricate axioms and theorems, to save the practice of the Church. The causes of superstition are: pleasing and sensual rites and ceremonies; excess of outward and pharisaical holiness; overgreat reverence of traditions, which cannot but load the Church; the strategems of prelates for their own ambition and lucre; the favouring too much of good intentions, which openeth the gate to conceits and novelties; the taking an aim at divine matters by human, which cannot but breed misture of imaginations; and, lastly, barbarous times, especially joined with calamities and disasters. Superstition, without a veil, is a deformed thing; for as it addeth deformity to an ape to be so like a man, so the similitude of superstition to religion makes it the more deformed: and as wholesome meat corrupteth to little worms, so good forms and orders corrupt into a number of petty observances. There is a superstition in avoiding superstition, when men think to do best if they go furthest from the superstition formerly received; therefore care would be had that (as it fareth in ill purgings) the good be not taken away with the bad, which commonly is done when the people is the reformer."