AUTHOR’S NOTE: I was recently engaged in an online conversation with an avowed skeptic who wants to delve into the occult but can’t overcome the perception that there is no objective evidence of its legitimacy, while also acknowledging that he hasn’t actually made an attempt to prove otherwise to his own satisfaction. This was my reply:

I once created two mottos for my online forum participation. The first was Hamlet’s advice to Horatio: “There are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” The second was rival entrepreneur David Gannon’s snide remark about P.T. Barnum’s gullible customers: “There’s a sucker born every minute.” I’d say it’s been my life’s work in occult practice to reconcile the two by exploring the first while remaining fully aware of the second.

I’ve come across two quotes that speak to this: one was by tarot master Enrique Enriquez. who described divination as an irrational act, which I think extends to many if not most esoteric pursuits; another was by a friend and colleague who said of the historical authors of the occult canon (and, I would argue, the religious one as well) “Some guys made up a bunch of stuff, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t work” (to which I appended “after a fashion”).

I’m something of a rationalist myself but I also have an open-mindedness that I describe as being “half mad-scientist and half mystic.” I also like Aleister Crowley’s motto: “The method of science. the aim of religion.” On the other hand, a good deal of what is offered as “proof” is anecdotal rather than empirical, and there is no universal database to support the latter; if authentication even exists, it’s scattered piecemeal throughout the literature. But I firmly believe that should eventually be rectified as we develop the ability to measure and quantify subliminal experiences.

This dichotomy is nowhere more evident than in the online tarot community, which exhibits an “anything goes” approach to interpretation. A tarot author of my acquaintance once called it a “free-for-all,” and it exemplifies the “making-stuff-up” insouciance alluded to above. The defense of sloppy technique can become quite glib: “There is no right way to read the cards” (in response to which I wrote an essay that asserted “There may be no ‘right’ way, but some ways are better than others”); then there is “Just do whatever you feel, don’t worry about anyone else’s opinion” (which I’ve massaged into “If it feels right, it must be right”); and one of my favorites (paraphrased from the old Treasure of the Sierra Madre movie) that I often hear from tarot teachers and self-styled experts: “We don’t need no steenkin’ books.” In other words, just winging it in good faith is all that is required of a competent diviner. To which I reply skeptically “Uh huh . . . sounds like the ‘Gannon contingent’ is well-represented.”

I’ve been criticized for being overly concerned about factual accuracy in my approach to divination when in the opinion of the “intuitive and psychic” crowd I should be entirely freewheeling and open-ended in my methods. As I see it, this featureless fluidity invites subjective bias that may do no more than generate fanciful impressions with no demonstrated relevance to the question or topic being addressed by the reading. It strikes me as self-indulgent, subjective navel-gazing masquerading as truth when it is nothing more than plausible-sounding fiction inspired by free-association from the images or assumed validation by unimpeachable spiritual sources. The tarot reader may be a “story-teller” but the narrative should be relatable to something that is currently going on n the seeker’s life, and if it isn’t the reading becomes little more than entertainment; if it isn’t pragmatic, I don’t see how any advice derived from the cards can be considered worthwhile.