Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash
Amidst the AI craze, the quantum computing mania, and the space tourism boom, you would expect ancient superstitions to have been discarded. And yet, strangely enough, they're not only surviving but flourishing. Look under the gleaming facade of contemporary life and you'll discover a bizarre, multicoloured subculture of unshakeable assumptions that make no sense but still guide choices, shape design, and inform everyday behaviour. Let's go on an intriguing world tour of superstitions that stood the test of centuries—and continue whispering in the ears of even the most logical brains today.
Let us begin with one of the most famous contemporary phobias: tetraphobia, or fear of the digit 4. In Mandarin Chinese, the term "four" (si) rhymes uncomfortably with the term "death" (si). Consequently, many buildings in China (and the rest of East Asia) omit the 4th floor completely. You will see elevators marked 1, 2, 3, and 5. Some upscale apartments omit every floor with the numbers 4, 14, 24, 34, etc. Hospitals are particularly diligent. Even telephone numbers and automobile license plates devoid of the number 4 command premium prices. This superstition doesn't only plague older generations. Property developers and technology founders alike hesitate before putting a "4" in a product name or address. Picture creating a smartphone that no one wants to purchase, not due to battery power, but because its model number ends in "4."
In Japan, cats are both adorable internet sensations and vessels of supernatural power. Ever heard of the Maneki-neko—the "beckoning cat"? These statues are commonly placed at the entrances of homes and businesses to invite good fortune and prosperity. Different paw positions and colours supposedly bring different types of luck. But there's also the sinister side: the bakeneko and nekomata, supernatural transforming cats that were thought to curse or kill. Although most Japanese today would dismiss these tales as ridiculous, many still won't keep cats with "split tails" or black cats around funerals. And yes, certain Japanese cat owners still shy away from allowing cats to come between them on certain days, most particularly, of course, Obon, the festival of ancestor reverence.
Exit an airport in Mumbai, and you may see a truck painted with lemons and green chilies arranged in garlands. They're not leftovers for a meal, they're protective talismans against the nazar, or evil eye. The superstition of nazar, the evil eye of jealousy, goes back centuries in Indian society. Newborns, even today, are marked with a black dot on the forehead to keep jealous eyes away. Fancy a new car? You'll spot a small lemon-chili charm dangling from the rear bumper. Bollywood stars, CEOs, and common folk alike are in the habit of performing rituals leading up to big events. Ironically, Indian tech startups and algorithmic founders sometimes still consult astrologers ahead of product launches. For the simple reason that if Mercury is in retrograde, all the coding won't make a difference.
In Italy, the evil eye manifests itself as the malocchio. An ancient and deeply rooted cultural superstition, it traces back to Roman and Greek civilizations. It is believed by Italians that strong envy can lead to misfortune, illness, or bad luck. The corno, a red horn-shaped charm, is also commonly used for protection. It's hanging from automobile mirrors, adorning homes, and even tucked away in pocketbooks. Even some Italian soccer players wear variations of the charm embroidered on their jerseys. It's not uncommon for grandmothers and mothers to conduct rituals or recite prayers to eliminate the malocchio from kids. Whether one subscribes to it or not, declining such a ritual would somehow feel…grateful.
The vivid blue evil eye bead, or nazar boncugu, is basically a national icon in Turkey. These bold blue amulets adorn cars, residences, offices, and even cockpits of airplanes. Though today's Turks laugh at the superstition, they don't quite disregard it. If something goes mysteriously wrong, your computer crashes right before your presentation, for example, someone may whisper, "Nazar degdi" ("The evil eye struck"). Even Turkish Airlines pilots are occasionally offered beads by passengers as a protection measure. In a country where reason and modern medicine prevail, there's still space for an amulet.
In perhaps one of the most mystifying new superstitions, a large number of South Koreans are convinced that sleeping overnight in an enclosed room with an electric fan operating can result in asphyxiation or hypothermia death. The superstition, referred to as "fan death," has endured for decades. Consequently, electric fans sold in South Korea tend to be fitted with automatic timers to shut off after several hours. In spite of the absence of scientific proof, fan death is quoted in news articles. Parents warn their children, and timer-equipped fans are popular products. It's an interesting example of how a national myth can become a feature-based selling point.
In Nigeria, superstitions affect not only individual life but also the world of work. For example, most people avoid whistling during night hours, considering that this action can invite evil spirits or snakes. Some people believe in some "unlucky days" when it's dangerous to start a business activity or go traveling.
You may be surprised to learn that even in urban places such as Lagos, tech firms discreetly plan launches through spiritual consultations. Traditional priests, called babalawos, are at times consulted by entrepreneurs for blessings and protection. And then there is the witches' fear. Suspicion still results in social exclusion or even worse, a chilling reminder that not all old beliefs disappear with modernity.
Whistling indoors is said to carry your money away in Russia. Many people take this superstition seriously. Whistle in a friend's home and you may receive a cold look or a stern lecture. Other peculiar customs are not shaking hands over a threshold (it leads to quarrels) and sitting quietly for a little while before going out on a journey, to secure safety. Even worldly-wise Muscovites find time to stand still for these rituals after all, why take a chance?
It is not only the East that holds on to superstitions. The fear of Friday the 13th, or paraskevidekatriaphobia, is well and thriving in the United States and Europe. This innocuous-looking day accounts for losses of almost \$800 million a year in business as a result of canceled flights, missed workdays, and postponed events. Hotels forego the 13th floor, airplanes frequently have no row 13, and weddings are seldom scheduled on this date. In England, spilling salt, opening an umbrella indoors, or spotting a lone magpie can still make people fret. The popularity of tarot readings, astrology software, and web psychics suggests a strange paradox—digitized societies still look for answers from the mysterious.
Despite advances in science and technology, superstitions continue to play an emotional and cultural role. They give us a sense of control in an unpredictable world. They connect us to our heritage, offer comfort, and often add meaning to mundane moments. In fact, some psychologists argue that superstitions serve a cognitive function; they reduce anxiety, offer a ritualized response to uncertainty, and foster a sense of community. In brief, you can be a Python-coding software engineer and still have a rabbit's foot in your pocket. Belief is not always rational, but it is certainly human.
Superstitions are background programs chugging away in our minds. We don't always understand them, and we might deny they exist, but they frequently determine the way we behave, think, and feel. From Seoul boardrooms to Roman homes, from Silicon Valley to Indian street corners, myths still tint our hypermodern world, and the next time you're ridiculing someone for knocking on wood or sidestepping black cats, ask yourself: When did you last hesitate before booking a Friday the 13th flight? As it happens, the past isn't behind us. It's here, quietly pulling the strings in our supposedly rational lives.