ON A MORE intimate note, some beliefs center on health, like the traditional post-birth seclusion of mothers and newborns, our version of “confinement.” In earlier times, it was thought that exposing a new mother and baby to visitors could bring bad luck or weaken the baby’s health. Modern science backs this tradition, albeit with a different rationale, as newborns have fragile immune systems, and limiting early exposure to crowds decreases infection risk. A seemingly outdated practice has practical value, shielding the vulnerable during a critical time.
Interestingly, our brains may be “programmed” to look for patterns and ascribe meaning to them—a tendency shaped by evolutionary psychology. Recognizing patterns helped early humans avoid predators and locate resources, even if that meant spotting “faces” in shadows or shapes in clouds.
Modern superstitions, then, are a relic of that survival mechanism. Psychologist Jane Risen suggests that even if superstitions seem irrational, they provide a way for people to cope with uncertainties and fears, giving them the impression of control (2016).
In the education setting, we also see teachers and students engaging in rituals, which, while not explicitly superstitious, share a similar intent. For instance, teachers might arrange their classrooms a certain way before exams, believing it “sets the tone” for a focused session. Such rituals help regulate stress levels, creating an environment conducive to learning. It is a reminder that sometimes it is not the logic of a belief but its effects that matter.
Then, there is the question of beliefs that shape social interactions. “Bati,” our superstition of saying “pwera usog,” to avoid inadvertently causing harm with a compliment, may sound magical. However, in a society where negative energy is often an unspoken fear, such expressions act as polite disclaimers. They reduce the social tension that might arise from envy or pride, fostering smoother interactions. Indeed, studies on group dynamics show that shared beliefs, even if they lack scientific basis, strengthen bonds and group cohesion (Caspi et al., 2024).
Yet, despite the practical insights hidden in some superstitions, scientific education is needed to differentiate helpful traditions from those that misinform. With science literacy rates dipping in the country, teaching critical thinking from an early age can help young people appreciate traditions without feeling bound by them.
Rather than ridiculing superstitions or clinging to them unquestioningly, we could examine which beliefs add meaningfully to life. A progressive educational model can cultivate such discernment without negating cultural roots.
Ultimately, superstitions are part of the unique cultural tapestry of any society. They remind us of the universal human quest for meaning in the face of uncertainty, an acknowledgment of the invisible threads connecting us all.
Science, for its part, helps us see the world more clearly but should not erase the value of cultural practices that give us hope, purpose, and connection. As we navigate this balance, the real “good fortune” may lie in finding harmony between tradition and science, between the known and the yet-to-be-explored.
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Doc H fondly describes himself as a “student of and for life” who, like many others, aspires to a life-giving and why-driven world grounded in social justice and the pursuit of happiness. His views do not necessarily reflect those of the institutions he is employed or connected with./PN
