AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is another installment in my long-running series about the functional dynamics of tarot reading and the arguable legitimacy of cartomantic fortune-telling. (File under “How tarot works.”)

I don’t doubt that, unless they are unusually introspective, most seasoned tarot readers who are confident in their skill and experience have it in their heads that their chances of arriving at the truth in their predictive work are exceptional (or at least they try to give their clients that impression). I would also venture to say that their proof for this superior performance is most likely anecdotal in its entirety rather than empirical: in other words, they don’t ask themselves “Did it happen as I predicted, and if not where was the flaw in my technique?”

If a forecast makes the querent feel empowered to deal with the situation it is deemed a success by the diviner, and there is no established body of historical evidence (like there is in astrology) to gainsay them in claiming victory. In reality, they may very well be pursuing a faint trace of cloud on the horizon and proclaiming that its future trajectory has been confirmed without bothering to subject it to any kind of critical scrutiny or rigorous validation (assuming that such tracking is even possible in impersonal, one-off reading situations). Like Bob Dylan, they claim that they “don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows,” but they might benefit from a metaphysical database.

Those of us who trust the traditional wisdom at least half-way have something to point to as the source of our inspiration, even if it’s only a hint or two gleaned from our studies and supported by our practice. We can then elaborate on this kernel of insight with broader, more impressionistic observations based on our understanding of the symbolism in the imagery, and enlist the querent in telling us how close to the mark we’re coming with the narrative. Even if they’re completely at sea, this structured approach can help them find an island of reason amid the chaos.

The kind of optimistic self-deception I’m talking about (the “head games” of the title) would seem to be more prevalent in the purely psychic or intuitive prognostication that dominates remote reading scenarios. I can’t speak for those mystical practitioners, but when I’m tempted to crawl inside my own subconscious cocoon and begin concocting predictions from the phantoms of personal bias that appear in the form of assumptions and preconceptions that then feed on free-association from the images, I call time-out and refocus my approach on a more literal angle of attack. As a cautionary prompt in my own work, I always keep in mind the sardonic W.C. Fields quote “If you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit.” Better a half-truth with credentials than an outright fabrication, if we’re being honest about it.

I was just reading an article in the AARP monthly magazine (yes, I’m a certified geezer, AARP told me so) about “memory boosters” that describes mnemonics as “turning mundane information into dazzling visuals” that jog the memory. This is diametrically opposite to the way tarot works: with the aid of a little “core knowledge” as our springboard, we can successfully translate dazzling visuals into mundane information for the benefit of our clients. As I see it, if we can accentuate the probable as shown by the cards and distance ourselves from the far-fetched and fanciful, a blended analytical and intuitive approach has the best shot at producing conclusions that are both correct and compelling.

If we aren’t able to demonstrate to an impartial observer (the so-called “reasonable man” of contract law) that our results can withstand even casual examination of their accuracy, we might as well fall back on another Fields quip: “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Then give up. No use being a damned fool about it.” You might consider taking up predictive astrology instead. (I’m not being facetious, just pragmatic.) Horary astrologer John Frawley once observed that, when trying to find a lost item with horoscopic methods, either the object is where the chart say it is, or it isn’t; there is little room for innovative guesswork and we won’t impress anyone by claiming “I almost found it!” The same holds true for tarot reading: no querent wants to hear from a mealymouthed diviner “Well, I almost got it right.”