Everybody and their mother has been sending me links to this story, Spider divination. In Cameroon, they have a practice of cluttering up a spider’s burrow with leaves and sticks and stones, and then interpreting the future from how it tidies up the garbage.
Questioning a spider involves first clearing the area around its burrow. Then a large, open pot that has had its base removed is placed over the hole, with a piece of tin used as a lid. The pot and tin keep the spider in a contained space. A stick and stone are left inside, with special marked leaves (which I think of as ‘cards’) placed over the hole. The diviner then asks a question in a yes/no (or either/or) format – with each response corresponding to either the stick or stone – while tapping the enclosure to encourage the spider to emerge from their hole. The stick and stone represent possible answers, while the leaf cards offer the possibility of further clarification.
My tarantula, Blue, likes to hide in a silk covered tent she has constructed — when I look in, all I usually see is a dark hole with maybe a couple of legs visible in the shadows. I leave her meals in a space in front of the opening, and she will dart out and the prey disappears. She is very tidy, keeping her silk-lined floor clean, so could see using standard spider behavior as an indicator of the state of the universe.
Blue is back in the lab, but I have an oracle right here in my home. She lives in the corner by our internet router, and has strung silk around all the various cables. I trust that she has far more access to information than a spider in a hole in a remote Cameroon village. Here she is:
She is very pretty, so you know you can trust her. I asked her whether these spiders are a good source of information.
“Of course,” she told me, “this is a historic, traditional mode for getting input from spiders, a variation of the technique you are using to communicate with me — I’m just a bit more articulate. However, you have to read deeper into the article to see the truth. Read this paragraph.”
In many forms of divination, randomness is important. Examples include bibliomancy (opening a holy text and picking a verse at random), tarot and other sorts of cartomancy (shuffling the cards and picking some at random), Yijing and Ifá (throwing coins or chains; picking up odd or even numbers of sticks or nuts), or African basket divination in which objects placed in a basket are repeatedly tossed in the air (those that settle on top are then interpreted to answer a question). The point of this randomness is that the diviner cannot influence the result, so the message from beyond can be heard without the risk of human manipulation and interference.
She continued, “They are using the spider as a random pattern generator. The author fails to understand the key to the author’s misunderstanding, though, is that final sentence, ‘The point of this randomness is that the diviner cannot influence the result,’ which is false, and gives the game away. The diviner has all the power here as the interpreter of the pattern. The spider can be howling that the answer is X, but the interpreter can then declare that the answer is Y. The author is an unreliable source if they are able to ignore the power of the human manipulator of information.”
“By the way, PZ, I expect you to report my explanation accurately and completely, or my children will build nests in all of your orifices while you sleep.”
She really didn’t have to threaten me — of course I would avoid manipulating or interfering with her truth — but I could tell that she was annoyed by this story about humans stealing the authority of spider-kind for their own selfish ends.