Baphomet appears in numerous occult contexts, often aligned with demonology, medieval witchcraft, or Satanism. The contemporary Church of Satan features its image in their insignia. It represents the Devil on Trump XV of the Major Arcana in the Rider-Waite deck. Ceremonial magicians in lineages from Eliphas Levi to Anton LaVey encounter Baphomet as a demonic name, a symbol of alchemical or arcane concepts, and a power to invoke.

Nevertheless, Baphomet originates in a phonetic corruption of “Mahomet” or Muhammed. Allegations against the Knights Templar included participation in the foreign “cult of Mahomet.” Islam was cast as an Old Testament paganism by racist imaginations to fuel lurid stories about the Templars worshipping “Baphomet.” The accusations became charges of heresy and witchcraft, ultimately bringing about the end of the order and the execution of its last grand master.

Baphomet is only one example of entropy in occult traditions. The history of magic is entwined with religion, science, and fraud. Occult fraudsters drape themselves in whatever will lend them credibility, instill fear, or enhance their stature, yet some of their marks are true believers who practice sincerely. A critical pagan values detecting entropy and sifting truth from lie. In that way one can embrace the organic change of a living tradition, acknowledge fraudulent accretions, and rest on a solid foundation.

Meditation instructions that include contemplating death can be found in the Pali canon, the oldest collection of Buddhist philosophy. Looking directly into the nature of reality is a path to awakening and liberation in that tradition. The Buddha instructs his monks to seek desolate places such as graveyards and cremation pits to remind themselves of impermanence.

Buddhist philosophy advises that we remember that the body is a material thing and subject to all of the changes that matter can undergo. The Mahasatipattana—Sutta directs the meditator to imagine the body as a fleshy sack containing hair, bones, blood, and other bodily fluids. The purpose of these meditations is to embrace the fragile nature of physicality. Nothing that we can hold onto will last forever, and some things can be crushed by being held too tightly. Instead, one should reflect on the value that arises because things because it cannot endure. The next time you drink from a treasured cup, it could be the last time. In thinking about the end, one gains the perspective to appreciate the present moment.

Gothic artists are famous for trysts in cemeteries and other places of the death. Percy Shelley wooed Mary Wollenstonecraft Godwin by reading poetry in a graveyard. Edgar Allan Poe often dwells on physical processes of death and decay in his writing. The contrast between the quick and the dead forms a cornerstone of the Gothic aesthetic. The flame burns more brightly when seen against the shadows. As Buddhist philosophy argues, we appreciate what we have when we appreciate its fragility.

Both Gothic art and Buddhist philosophy channel a fascination with death, decay, and destruction into reflection on happiness, beauty, and life. A common repulsion, the fear of darkness, pushes these images to the edges of our attention most of the time. In turning away from darkness, one turns away from a tangible and inescapable reality. Unrealistic desires and presumptuous neglect arise from the delusion of permanence. The wiser path is to keep both creation and destruction in focus.

The Meaning of Witchcraft by Gerald Gardner provides some interesting insights into the founding of modern Wicca. Gardner begins each chapter by introducing a feature of witchcraft, paganism, or the occult, but he avoids fitting any of those concepts into a unified framework for Wiccan theology. Instead, the concept becomes a springboard for winding stories that weave witchcraft into history and folklore. While there is an implied theology that one can infer from ritual forms, Gardner devotes his writing to seeding the historicity of a continuous witchcraft tradition rather than establishing pagan epistemology, metaphysics, and ethics.

Much of The Meaning of Witchcraft contributes to the Wiccan founding myth by presenting interpretive evidence of a continuous witchcraft tradition existing in secret alongside and being persecuted by Christian institutions. Each narrative frames a belief about witchcraft, traces evidence of that belief in history, and interprets symbols, events, and motivations to support the framing. The resulting digressions suffer from all of errors Gardner inherits from discredited folklore theories such as the Murray Thesis and other frameworks no longer widely accepted. Many later Wiccan and Pagan writers follow a similar pattern in their books.

Gardner neglects any pagan account of epistemology or metaphysics in favor of a loose collection of themes. There is emphasis on communion with the God and Goddess through ritual without an account of how one has knowledge of the God and Goddess. Karma anchors ethics without any normative theory that defines good. Reincarnation supplies an answer for the afterlife, but Gardner does not supply an ontology that explains that nature of whatever provides continuity between lifetimes.

In the absence of these accounts, the Pagan community embraces a loose federation of beliefs supplied by European occult traditions, Asian religious traditions, and cradle religions. Fusion with the New Age contributed additional layers as Wicca crossed the Atlantic Ocean. In this unstructured tradition, Pagan practice has more consistency than Pagan belief.

Examining the principles underlying belief through philosophical inquiry or scholarship in history, anthropology, or archeology risks challenging the same brittle foundations as the Wiccan founding myth. Tolerance of diverse beliefs allows the community to unite across lineages and define a pluralist religious community. Pagan pluralism itself provides a refuge for inquisitive seekers who feel confined by overly rigid traditions.

On the other hand, the absence of direction on what Paganism is rather than what it should not be leaves a seeker at the mercy of whatever resources they find. A local community must find its ways of discouraging abusive behavior and ensuring that uninformed seekers have access to guidance. In this capacity, pluralism limits the community’s response because it motivates a reluctance to challenge brittle and self-serving beliefs. While the Wiccan Rede would appear to provide this standard, in the absence of a normative theory to define harm, its application becomes a matter of interpretation.

Is the absence of a unifying and prescriptive theology a problem for modern paganism? The Buddhist tradition is carried by a wealth of lineages not formally organized but all tracing themselves back to the Buddha. Lineages do monitor their teachers by endorsing teachers and enforcing codes of behavior. All Buddhist traditions have a robust tradition of ethical scholarship, extending back to the Pali Canon. One may hesitate to pass judgment on incomplete information, but a Buddhist can explain very clearly the boundaries of moral behavior so that an individual can draw correct inferences.

Pagan covens lack a unified ethical tradition. One may derive ethics from a combination of acculturated norms, general principles, and personal gnosis, but there is no shared framework to provide consistency of judgment. While all religious organizations are vulnerable to corruption and abusive individuals, mature traditions have developed means for mitigating those harms by warning newcomers and censuring abusers. To mature in this way, modern paganism needs a robust ethical framework that defines harm while embracing pluralism. The framework should answer:

• What actions, intentions, or traits constitute harm or facilitate harm?
• What responsibilities do we have toward one another?
• How do we come to know morality?
• How are moral judgments formed and justified?

Addressing these questions would give greater weight to the Wiccan Rede, resist spiritual bypasses that circumvent moral introspection, and discern abuse from difference of opinion.

 

If you consider the high price placed on one of a kind collectibles, you can note the value placed on being something no one else can have. Economists call items valued for exclusive possession, such as movie memorabilia or works of art, “positional goods.” A positional good has value only insofar as one can possess it and no one else can. Anyone can have a replica, but there is only one original. The difference in value between a unique item and the material that composes it can be thought of as its positional value, the value it accrues through exclusive possession.

Capitalist systems motivate the creation of positional goods because the value of sentiment is unbounded, unlike the cost of labor and materials. A merchant dealing in collectibles can turn a significant profit by purchasing from one party ignorant of the item’s value and selling it to an interested collector. Positional goods can become status signifiers, attracting increased value based on the associated status. Without producing any new material good or fulfilling any need, positional value inflates prices in favor of merchants and to the detriment of consumers.

The sentiment that enables positional value reflects some of humanity’s worse impulses. When a person enjoys positional value, they place an equivalent degree of value on the dissatisfaction of others. One celebrates not what one has, but that someone else does not have it. Embracing positional value then entails embracing another’s deprivation.

From a moral perspective positional value encourages immoral attitudes such as greed and insensitivity to suffering. The separation created between people who have and people who do not enable fragmentation of the community into factions anchored on their status and associated signifiers. Positional goods provide a perpetual wellspring of carrots for the owner class to offer workers in exchange for betraying their class interests. An anarchist should be skeptical of positional goods and positional value, and a communitarian should treat them as a pollutant.

The persuasive utility of positional value appears in the pitch for many scams, threatening the mark with missing out on something significant. The NFT market exploits two forms of positional value, inherent and external. Inherent value refers to the core concept already discussed, but external positional value refers to status signifiers associated with ownership. NFT promoters encourage adoption so that the buyer can be part of the next big movement. Owners create community around NFT collections, as if they have attained membership in a clique of Bored Apes. If you don’t buy any NFTs, you won’t have any stake in the cryptocurrency economy to come. In the end, the value of the asset will increase until no buyers remain. The price plummets, and the status withers.

Many ancient stories concern the rules of hospitality. Every culture has a framework for describing the duties of a householder toward a guest, especially a traveler or stranger in need, and the duties of the guest toward their host. Violation of those rules provide the starting point for epics and tragedies. Given the hazards of travel, one can easily understand how hospitality became a recurring theme in morality and mythology. The householder welcomes the stranger because they can easily imagine themselves with the needs of the stranger. Then stranger accepts what is given gracefully and returns what they can because they would want a guest to treat their house the same way.

Hospitality norms reflect the fundamental role of reciprocity as a moral value. Reciprocity builds trust between individuals. By serving another’s interest and being served in return, one demonstrates regard for the needs and interest of another. Establishing reciprocity provides the foundation for all agreements and organizations.

Simple regard for another’s needs demonstrates respect and allows us to recognize common wants and needs. Despite the wide diversity of individuals, humans share a common set of basic needs, food, shelter, companionship, and recognition. Practicing reciprocity teaches a person these needs and teaches them to recognize the other as commensurable with themselves. In the continuity of self and other, one finds humanity.

Compatibilists argue that free will and determinism can co-exist as long as either concept is diminished to fit within an expanded concept of the other. Free will is consistent with determinism as long as one does not demand unqualified freedom or absolute regularity. In very deep meditation sessions, I sometimes experience volition as phenomenon separate from urges or cognition. I see a desire to end the session, and I have thoughts about ending the session. Nevertheless, the session does not end until I direct a formless push to open the eyes, bow, and stand.

The push is influenced by cause and effect. Hunger, fatigue, anxiety, and enthusiasm can lend it power. Nevertheless, between anticipation of action and acting, there is a moment of decision. I do not need a stronger concept of free will to anchor responsibility for my actions, yet I can also see how previous events direct that decision, lend it strength or present resistance. The decision moment is not absolutely free anymore than the next moment is possible to predict with absolute precision. A consistent account of causation can account for both free will and determinism in the sense presented here.

A study of Epictetus shows how far philosophy has fallen from its roots in Ancient Greece. The foundations of Stoicism are a simple, practical focus on developing durable happiness and freedom from the vicissitudes of fortune. Following the virtue tradition of Aristotle, Epictetus sets out the aims of philosophy as cultivation of oneself, of virtue, and of the means of living well. Like the Buddha, Epictetus argues that living well means forsaking pursuit of transitory goods and focusing on lasting peace through changing one’s attitude toward desire and circumstance. There is nothing in Epictetus that one cannot infer by reflecting on the value of maintaining a broad perspective on incidental events. Epictetus himself reminds his reader that they already know what is needed for happiness. Only deliberate effort to habituate the right attitudes separates the wise from the foolish.

The writing of Epictetus belong to the “wisdom” genre, the set of creative works dedicated to giving practical advice. Wisdom literature often takes an elevated perspective, bringing the reader to a higher level of abstraction where patterns of cause and effect become more accessible. By relating patterns to discrete in-the-moment actions or decisions, one derives principles and practices that support a set of values. All cultures have wisdom literature that composes the inheritance of tradition and value passed down the generations.
A common theme is dissatisfaction with transitory pleasures and seeking liberation from suffering by developing an attitude that places the most value on achieving holistic contentment with oneself and one’s environment. Developing kindness, compassion, forethought, and reflection promotes the development of a lasting freedom from transitory pleasures and pains.

Academic philosophy concerns the minutia of esoteric subjects. Lines of research focus on distinctions that change nothing about human behavior, perception, or experience. Analytic Philosophy, the dominant tradition of the English-speaking world, rejected the study of ethics for much of its early history. Continental Philosophy, dominant in Western Europe, embraces perception and reflection but often twists itself into engaging primarily with its own jargon-laden literature. As a result, academic philosophers demonstrate no marked capacity for wisdom or happiness. Philosophers who do pursue wisdom are either confined to very narrow subfields on the margin of the discipline or do so in a non-professional capacity only.

The phrase “sixth sense” entered wide usage in English through the writing of Helena Blavatsky, the founder of Theosophy. Blavatsky appropriated concepts from Indian traditions such as yoga and Buddhism and crafted them into an occult movement. Distorted ideas about karma and reincarnation stem from Blavatsky’s popularity, and the “sixth sense” suffered a similar fate.

Scientists who study perception and sensation identify far more then five senses in human anatomy. In addition to those listed above, humans have a sense of balance, a kinesthetic sense, and several others. Theosophy’s “sixth sense” must be understood as a framework for sensation and perception, appropriated from Indian philosophy to enhance Blavatsky’s mystique.

Buddhist philosophers recognized six senses: sight, hearing, taste, touch, small, and mind. The last sense refers to the awareness of thoughts, memories, imagination, and other cognitive phenomena. Metaphysical arguments in Buddhist sutras describe experience as requiring a sensory organ, sensory stimulation, and sensory consciousness. Since one experiences thoughts and memories, one must also have a sense that enables the experience. The “sixth sense” here is a straightforward way of talking about mental experiences like dreams or imagination.

In the Buddhist framework, the six senses are part of a naturalistic phenomenology that rejects distinguishing between “internal” and “external” phenomena. The European philosophical tradition often frames mental phenomena against mind-body dualism, a view that “physical” and “mental” phenomena consist of fundamentally different substances. Buddhist phenomenologists instead frame all objects of experience as sharing the same essential substance. A subject experiences sight, sound, and thought through different sense modalities, but the Buddhist framework does not infer differing substances from differing modalities.

Differentiating experiences as “internal” or “external” is not coherent because the subject experiences all sense modalities as a uniform flow of sensory stimulation. As a consequence Buddhist metaphysics rejects mind body dualism. The subject knows themself a continuity of sensory organs, sensory consciousness, and sensory stimuli, a fundamentally non-dual metaphysics. By framing “the sixth sense” as extrasensory perception, Blavatsky reintroduces dualist metaphysics to an account of sensation that should reinforce non-dualism.

A Pagan with a bias toward scholarship tends to encounter difficulties belonging with the wider community. Founding members of the movement built their frameworks with faulty scholarship and fantastic claims. As fictions become beliefs, people hold them too dearly to revise or challenge them. When intuitive and mystical ways of knowing ground belief, academic analysis is rejected as reductive and disenchanting. Nevertheless, the scholar sees their investigation as a form of veneration. Insofar as one confronts one’s truths in the sacred space, one must acquaint oneself with the means to find truth. Studying immerses the scholar in the subject and changes them as well. While untruths of the subject are cut away, the untruths of the scholar are cut likewise. The subject and the scholar emerge more whole from this process.

Where one’s practice includes operant magick, one should have an internally consistent framework. The framework should account for the limits of magic, its necessary conditions, and how to interpret results. Logical consistency does not require a strict commitment to empirical science, but it does require that all claims made by the framework can be true without causing a contradiction. Adopting as principles poorly interpreted claims from natural science weakens a framework, making it reliant on something that can be determined true or false, and often a pseudoscience that has been determined false. Logically consistent principles allow one to draw inferences from the framework to explore the logical space it defines. Otherwise, the magician does not learn about themselves through their framework and therefore never develops.

Mystical insights and personal gnosis should be part of every practice. Through critical reflection on those insights, one engages with the divine and develops their relationship to the sacred. Uncritical acceptance does not allow the insight to take root deeply, leading to a shallow pursuit of experiences whenever the previous bliss is spent. Asserting the truth of one’s personal gnosis as binding on a third party may help a person reinforce a shallow belief, but one can only make epistemic judgments on their own experiences.

Revival of ancient Paganism requires evidence-based investigation such as archeology, history, and linguistics. While experts may offer different interpretations, they also acknowledge the limits of what we can glean from evidence and what we can only speculate based on broader patterns. Scholarship in these fields requires rigorous attention to detail, evidence, and bias. Grounding our beliefs in the on-going academic search for truth gives contemporary Pagans a firmer foundation than amateur speculation and debunked theories.

The practice should work inward, not outward. Beginning magick, ritual, or any working with the intention to create external changes results in delusion and disappointment. Ceremonial magick works change on the magician, encouraging the development of insight and understanding. When witchcraft aims for external results, it works the way nature works. Witchcraft seeks the necessary and sufficient condition, the smallest movement for the greatest change. One must first learn patience, observation, and diligence. On either path the initiate should focus on introspection and personal development and follow those paths into mastery.

While many introductory sources teach protection magick as a safe introduction, focus on wards and protection leads to paranoia. One focuses anxiety or depression on an external cause, a magical or psychic attack, and then employs ineffective external responses. The adversary is the inexperienced mind, clinging to material explanations for mental phenomenon, seeking easy answers over honest introspection. Mindful awareness in meditation serves as a safer introductory practice that teaches investigation of sensation and feelings that encourages steadiness of mind.

When seeking deeply meaningful symbols, one should remember that behind each mythic figure stands an ocean of local cults, personal shrines, and unrecorded re-tellings. A living culture changes as its participants change, as their needs, hopes, and dreams change. By embracing reinterpretation and retelling, one can explore the idiosyncrasies of their personal experience of the divine. Renewed practices should be grounded in the past but should not be confined by it.

In a mass media saturated culture, one encounters the monolithic image first and foremost. In the recorded performance or the perfect copy, one sees the idealized abstract. When encountering a local incarnation such as a cosplayer or fan drawing, the comparison favors the monolith because it is the basis of their experience. The tendency to revere abstraction reinforces the hierarchy of monolith over local expression. However, when reflecting on the prehistoric experience of the divine, a contemporary person must imagine their accustomed hierarchy reversed.

Patterns of worship in the ancient world appear to be very localized. While everyone in a region may venerate the same god, local cults may have different idols, epithets, or rituals. The available evidence suggests that gods had epithets specific to local worship. One might think of gods as local expressions of common concepts. One does not first learn the common aspects and then encounter the local expression. The expressive form serves as the primary introduction to the underlying concept.

“Mythology” is derived from poetry, drama, and other means of artistic expression. The hymn that one village uses to worship Athena might differ from the one used by a nearby village. Each hymn may offer a different introduction to Athena, a different honorific, or different attributes that suit the local cult. One who travels between villages learns about the differences as changes relative to their experience. The abstraction shared between the two villages grows from recognition of attributes shared across both local cults. When that recognition is elevated, stories summarized, and epithets aggregated, the abstract eclipses the specific.