Pull a card and see what your future holds. Tarot reading is polarizing: studied with utmost sincerity by devotees, spurned as idolatrous by the devout, and blasted with a firehose of skepticism by most. It is a spiritual practice on the margins, a system of divination that claims descent variously from Christian mysticism, Kabbalah, Greek mythology, and even the priest-magicians of ancient Egypt. For a certain personality type (me) this is juicy stuff. But for a person taught to love science and reason as they love all that is good and true, the superstitious freight of tarot can be an intellectual allergen. How can anybody really believe this stuff?
In one sense this question is sort of irrelevant as belief is not prerequisite to tarot practice. Rather, all that is necessary is that the cartomancer, querent, or card-puller have some kind of emotional reaction to the cards’ imagery. These artistic representations are designed, after all, to have as broad applicability as possible, so it’s no surprise that loads of people are drawn to tarot with excitement and morbid fascination. Even the most hardcore skeptic can have quite a shock when the wrong (or right) card comes up. What if it’s the Devil? Or Death? The cards succeed or fail primarily in relation to the degree that the art is psychologically magnetic.
Much has been made of this Jungian archetypal power of the tarot, but it has another asset that is of even more relevance to the skeptic: randomness. Now it might seem that shuffling the cards to impose chaos and disorder is exactly what divorces them from the possibility of any meaning or utility. But granted that the cards are composed of highly emotionally resonant symbolic art, dealing these images out at random is precisely what makes the whole exercise reflective of life. Because as humans go through the world they encounter highly charged, chaotic, random, but nonetheless symbolic events. Creating a narrative out of the calamities, triumphs and chaos of existence is the adventure of mortality. Consulting the Tarot is a very earnest form of narrative play.
Now don’t mistake me; I’m not saying I dismiss all the paranormal, supernatural, and wiggity stuff orbiting around tarot. I remain agnostic as to whether the cards are moved by some angel, demon, god or wind out of the benevolence of the cosmic microwave background, and if you believe any of the above causes to be true, then you don’t need help to be dragooned into some psychic’s cave of tapestries and candles.
Tarot cards transcend belief. It’s like asking if someone believes in the power Michaelangelo’s David. Tarot cards work - they have utility - not in spite of their irrationality, but because of it. People who pull cards are trying to live meaningful lives. They come to tarot readings to answer myriad questions about love, career, family, and purpose. If they wanted, they could chart a list of pros and cons and make a perfectly rational decision. Tarot provides irrational answers with a sense of profundity. In the face of the irreducible complexity and uncertainty of any decision in this universe tarot is a tool for playing with destiny.