10 Superstitious Beliefs That Once Consumed Entire Cultures

Superstitions are often dismissed as irrational beliefs. Those who don’t subscribe to superstitious rituals have no interest in avoiding ladders on sidewalks or knocking on wood. They don’t carry lucky charms, and they don’t throw salt over their shoulders. And this may describe much of the world’s population today.

But history tells a very different story. For centuries, cultures shaped their entire lives around rituals and traditions that today seem purely superstitious. Entire civilizations postponed ceremonies, feared eclipses, appeased spirits, or rebuilt temples based on omens that dictated everything from politics to personal safety.

This list explores ten cultures and communities that were once consumed by superstition—sometimes for centuries—and how those beliefs shaped their fears, customs, and survival.

Related: Top 10 Mysterious Nautical Legends and Superstitions

10 The Aztec Calendars

The Aztecs didn’t see time as linear. As such, they had two calendars that ran side by side: a 365-day solar year and a 260-day ritual cycle. Every 52 years, the two calendars were realigned, and at that point, the Aztecs were terrified the world would end.

To stop this from happening, all fires across the empire had to be extinguished. People sat in complete darkness, waiting silently to see whether the universe would collapse. Meanwhile, priests carried out the New Fire Ceremony on the Hill of the Star, where a sacrificial victim was laid on an altar. When the Pleiades constellation reached a specific point in the sky, a sacred flame was drilled into the victim’s chest cavity using a fire drill.

If the flame caught, the Aztecs sighed in relief. It meant the sun would rise yet again, marking the start of a new 52-year cycle. That single flame was then carried to temples and households across the land, relighting every hearth as a symbol of cosmic renewal.^[1]

9 The Cult of the Fox Spirit

People living in late imperial China feared foxes as much as they feared emperors. Belief in fox spirits (huxian) was so widespread during the Ming and Qing dynasties that it gave rise to an entire shadow religion. Fox spirits were said to possess humans, seduce the unwary, or grant wealth to those who appeased them. Spirit mediums claimed to channel the spirits, and villages built shrines to keep them in good humor.

Ignoring the fox spirits meant risking disease, crop failure, or permanent poverty. The superstition became so overwhelming that the state struggled to contain it. Local officials often tolerated fox cults to maintain stability, but others attempted to suppress them by confiscating statues and banning spirit-medium rituals.

Despite crackdowns, fox shrines still appeared in homes, shops, and even government offices. For many, the presence of fox spirits wasn’t a folktale—it was a daily threat or blessing that shaped their fears, prayers, and behavior.^[2]

8 The Great Witch Hunt

In the late 1600s, Sweden was gripped by a mass hysteria known as Det stora oväsendet, or The Great Disturbance. It began in 1668 when children in Dalarna claimed witches were abducting them and taking them to Blåkulla—a mythical mountain where witches supposedly feasted with the devil. The stories quickly spread, becoming more dramatic with every retelling. People heard of secret Sabbaths, demonic feasts, and witches flying through the air.

Panic naturally ensued. Courts overflowed with accusations. Neighbors turned on neighbors, and pastors warned their congregations about the devil’s powers. Parents lived in fear that their children would disappear at any moment. The hysteria peaked at Torsåker in 1675, when a mass witch purge occurred: sixty-five women and six men were executed in a single day.

In 1676, King Charles XI finally intervened. He appointed royal commissions that demanded stricter rules of evidence, and once the children’s testimonies were scrutinized, many were found to be coached or false. The panic dissolved almost overnight—but for nearly a decade, Sweden lived convinced that witches truly walked among them.^[3]

7 The Number That Meant Death

Across much of East Asia—particularly in China, Japan, Korea, and Taiwan—people have a strong aversion to the number four. The reason is simple: the word sounds nearly identical to the word for “death.” This superstition, known as tetraphobia, appears in records dating back at least to the Han Dynasty. The number four was avoided in funerals, inscriptions, and religious rituals.

Through cultural exchange and shared use of Chinese characters, the superstition spread and influenced everything from architecture to social norms. Today, many buildings skip the fourth floor entirely, much as Western skyscrapers avoid the thirteenth floor. Some hospitals avoid room numbers containing the digit 4, and elevator panels throughout East Asia frequently omit it.

Even modern airlines and cell phone carriers sometimes avoid the number, showing how deeply a linguistic quirk has shaped daily life for millions.^[4]

6 The Black Death

While the Black Death devastated Europe in the 14th century, killing millions, terrified people desperately sought an explanation. Unfortunately, this fueled the superstition that Jewish communities had poisoned wells and brought on the plague.

Fear quickly morphed into violence. Encouraged by local leaders and, in some cases, clergy, mobs targeted Jewish neighborhoods. Pogroms swept through dozens of cities. In Strasbourg alone, around 900 Jews were burned alive in 1349 during a single mass execution. Elsewhere, Jewish communities were expelled, forced to convert, or annihilated entirely.

Although the plague was caused by the bacterium Yersinia pestis, the superstition persisted for generations, reshaping Europe. It entrenched antisemitism, destroyed centuries-old communities, and left deep cultural scars that lasted well beyond the Middle Ages.^[5]

5 Omens and Augury

In ancient Rome, the government was closely tied to superstition. Augurs—religious officials—believed that bird behavior could determine whether the state could declare war, hold an assembly, or pass new laws. If birds flew in an unlucky direction or refused to feed during a ritual, political decisions were postponed.

Lightning also carried meaning. A single strike on a temple could halt military action or delay Senate votes. Generals and magistrates were expected to follow these “readings,” and even emperors consulted augurs before making major decisions.

These signs weren’t symbolic—they held legal weight. Roman religion fully intertwined omen-reading with governance, meaning that the empire’s fate often hinged on what birds happened to be doing that day.^[6]

4 Onbashira Festival

In Japan, superstitious beliefs in spirits once profoundly shaped local life, politics, and ritual practice. Among the most dramatic surviving examples is the Onbashira Festival in Nagano, held every six years. During the event, sixteen massive fir trees are cut down, hauled across rivers, and ridden down steep slopes before being raised at the four corners of the Suwa Grand Shrine.

The belief is that this ritual renews the shrine’s sacred power and protects the community from disaster. But it is also extremely dangerous. The tree-riding portion, kiotoshi, has caused numerous injuries and several deaths over the years. Despite the risks, the festival continues, rooted in centuries-old beliefs that spirits must be honored—or calamity may follow.

The Onbashira tradition reflects broader Shinto and Shugendō practices in which festivals, offerings, and daring physical feats were performed to appease spirits, ensure good harvests, and keep misfortune at bay.^[7]

3 Eclipse Panic

In ancient and medieval times, people did not consider eclipses or comets to be natural events. Instead, they were terrifying omens of divine anger. When a solar eclipse happened in Byzantium in AD 797, citizens feared it was a direct punishment from God. The political chaos that followed—including the deposition and blinding of Emperor Constantine VI—seemed to validate their fears.

This way of thinking was widespread across medieval Europe. A sudden eclipse could send entire cities into panic. Priests called for mass penance, rulers interpreted the event as a warning, and chroniclers linked eclipses with coming war, famine, or plague.

Superstition gave these celestial events enormous political weight. Kings justified campaigns, purges, and policy changes by pointing to the sky. Whenever something strange happened overhead, people treated it not as astronomy—but as prophecy.^[8]

2 Wendigo Possession

The Algonquian peoples of North America faced many threats, including hunger during harsh winters. But hunger also had a supernatural form in the mythical Wendigo. The Wendigo was said to be a monstrous, emaciated spirit that roamed forests during times of famine, forever starving and preying upon humans.

Over time, the superstition grew beyond storytelling. Communities believed the Wendigo could possess individuals, turning them into violent, cannibalistic killers. Those suspected of “Wendigo possession” were sometimes executed to prevent further tragedy.

The most infamous case was Swift Runner, a Cree man who murdered and ate his family in 1879. He blamed the Wendigo for his actions and was later executed, but for many, the story reinforced the idea that supernatural hunger could drive a person to madness.^[9]

1 Ghost Money

In Vietnam, ancestor worship remains an important tradition. One of its most striking practices is burning joss paper—symbolizing “ghost money”—along with paper replicas of earthly belongings, such as motorbikes, clothing, electronics, and even entire mansions. The belief is that these offerings make their way to the spirit world, where they provide comfort and status for deceased relatives.

What began as a household ritual is now a grand tradition. During the Lunar New Year and the annual Ghost Festival, families burn massive amounts of paper, and entire industries revolve around producing elaborate paper goods. Workshops even teach people how to craft personalized offerings.

There is a downside: smoke pollution and fire risk rise sharply during festival seasons. But for many families, the cost of ignoring the ritual is far greater. Neglecting to burn ghost money may displease ancestors or invite bad luck—a risk few are willing to take.^[10]