The Science of Superstitions
Somehow related to pigeons firing missiles at war civilians.
Do I truly believe in the prescient Dream Giraffe Oracle? Let’s talk about superstitions.
My high school job was as a hospital orderly, and sometimes I’d be tasked with taking a patient to Ward 13. Here’s a secret: There was no Ward 13. For superstitious reasons, the Waitematā DHB skips it entirely. Ward 13 is what we unofficially called the morgue.
So, in a way, going to Ward 13 really was unlucky.
Ancient superstition manifested as fear of the gods, fear of the unknown, and fear of tripping over black cats in the dark. We like to pretend we have some control in an indifferent universe, so in an act of effectance motivation – a desire to exert control over our environment – we avoid thirteens and throw salt about to show God who’s boss.
I’m no longer a practising Catholic, but I still do the sign of the cross when my plane takes off, because I’ve done it all my life and haven’t crashed yet. No doubt the one time I give it up, we’ll end up on a white woman’s unsolved mystery podcast.
Yet superstitions aren’t a uniquely human trait. In 1948, behavioural scientist B.F. Skinner grabbed a heap of hungry pigeons and fed them through a mechanism which dispensed food for a few minutes each day. By the study’s end, three quarters of the birds had begun displaying superstitious behaviour, conditioning themselves to act in ways which they believed activated the food mechanism – e.g., turning three times anti-clockwise, or moving its head in a pendulous rhythm. The bird behaved as if there were a causal relation between its behaviour and food, even if there was no real relation at all.
So wait, what? Do pigeons fear God?
(Sidenote – this same science man taught pigeons to play ping-pong during WWII, hoping he’d eventually teach them to launch missiles. The project lost funding and, to my knowledge, no pigeon to this date has committed war atrocities.)
I’m inclined to argue that a pigeon training itself to act weird doesn’t count as superstition, but didn’t I also train myself to act weird before liftoff? It doesn’t matter how self-aware I am – every time I do it, I sink deeper into my persistent fallacy, regardless of how my actions correlate with the outcome. This is what Skinner calls a partial reinforcement effect, and it’s how he explains superstitious behaviour in humans. Logically, I know I can’t single-handedly make a plane explode through heresy alone, but I knowingly reinforce this Pavlovian response each time.
“We don't have to know how the brain works,” he said, which is pretty lazy of him as a psychologist. “It's just a matter of conditioned reflexes,”
Unsurprisingly, there’s an overlap between superstitious people and those who are very anxious, OCD or depressed. Lots of juicy nerve-wracking snacks for a sad brain to fixate on. Another core proponent of superstition is irrationality in the face of science, and a rational person wouldn’t blog about imaginary harbinger giraffes.
What about superstitions for good? Prophecies are self-fulfilling, for better or for worse. In China, having a dragon zodiac sign means you’re destined to be way cooler than all the other loser zodiacs. In fact, research shows that dragon zodiacs do perform better academically – but only because parents have higher expectations, and thus invest more in their children. In daily life, good luck charms and rituals reduce anxiety, bring us confidence, and improve performance. Let’s be honest, if Giraffe Day rolls around and nothing happens, I’ll be bummed. Maybe I’ll cause drama for the sake of it.
I reckon most superstitions were invented by mums to keep their pissy kids in check. Stop breaking mirrors! Stop opening your umbrella inside and getting my shit wet! Since smacking’s been banned in New Zealand since 2007, mums must invoke the wrath of the divine instead.
In general, I’m an optimistic skeptic. I’m approaching the Year of the Dream Giraffe Oracle in the same way I do climate change. Even if climate change was a massive hoax (it’s not), so what? Ha ha, idiot! You made positive changes in your life! Get dunked on!
From a natural selection perspective, if there is a strong survival advantage to making correct associations, then this will outweigh the negatives of making harmless and silly ones. If the 1% irrationally anxious part of me does believe this is my last year, oh well – I’ll make the most of it.
I’ll keep doing the sign of the cross, because it brings me comfort. I’ll always give my chickens an extra scoop of food – one, two, three, and another for luck – because it brings them joy. And, if a foreboding giraffe portends imminent doom, I’ll take that as a sign to get off my arse and enjoy this world I’m briefly sharing.
All stitions can be super, if we try.
