I’m a Taurus. I was born between April 20 and May 20. It’s my zodiac sign, also known as a “sun sign,” which corresponds to a specific sector of the sky that the sun was located in at the time of one’s birth. Astrology is the practice of using this sign (and a few additional ones) as insight into the type of personality one has. According to my sign, I’m supposedly intelligent (thank you), dependable (not really), hard-working (ehh), dedicated (somewhat) and stubborn (a little).
I vaguely remember my parents explaining to me how zodiacs worked as a child. I’m not sure if it was because of my affinity for astronomy, mythology or my love for the Beyblade anime (an anime where spinning tops were named after zodiacs), but I thought zodiac signs were awesome. A Taurus is a bull, one of my favorite animals. Bulls are passionate, masculine, fiery and fearless; they attack everything head on. I wanted to have a bull-like attitude. Heck, I loved basketball, and Michael Jordan played on the Bulls.
Horoscopes do run deeper than animal comparisons, however, and I never read too much into those — I just thought bulls were cool. I played a lot of chess in my youth. During my first chess lesson, my coach, while assessing my caliber of play, asked for my zodiac sign. I told him I’m a Taurus, and he said he was also a Taurus, and that Tauruses typically have aggressive “playstyles.” His words stuck with me, and I started to almost cater my playstyle toward fitting that “aggressive Taurus” mold. I felt like I had found my chess identity, and I think I’ve won many games as a result.
Recently, a friend asked me what I would do if I discovered that I had been celebrating my birthday on the wrong day. I thought about it for a bit, and I told him I’d probably keep celebrating it on the wrong date. It sounds sentimental, but I’ve grown extremely attached to my birthday. It’s less so for the fact that I love celebrating my birthday; it’s more that whenever I hear “April 27,” I immediately think about myself — like I’m being addressed directly. I realized it’s the same thing when people say “Taurus”; they’re like alternate names for me.
To elaborate further, I considered that alternate universe in which I was born on a different day with a different zodiac sign, or even a different name. Would that affect my self regard? I’m not entirely sure, but I know that some people consider specific names “red flags” and “green flags.” There’s a slight element of truth to that. Imagine the number of children who get bullied in preschool for having funny names — they’ve probably experienced shifts in their personalities as a result. You can make the argument that having a specific birthday, perhaps not in the same capacity as having a specific name, can have an outsize influence in your life.
But astrology does, in fact, make a stronger claim than the notion that birthdays affect one’s upbringing. I’m not sure if the exact positions of the planets and stars determined my personality. With this in mind, it is my personal philosophy that, even if you believe in something that I don’t, I won’t go out of my way to impose my beliefs onto you, so long as your beliefs don’t infringe on my lifestyle. If we have different religions, so be it.
But I’ve noticed that people take an especially hard line when disclaiming the validity of astrology. They think it’s absolutely outlandish that, somehow, the positions of the stars and planets can sway one’s personality, and that it has zero scientific backing. They say it’s pseudoscience. I think I’m slightly inclined to agree, but as a general statement, I’m more likely to gravitate toward someone who’s misinformed over someone with a compulsive need to correct others. In other words, I don’t care if you think I’m wrong. I don’t even care if I’m wrong.
I’ve always wondered why one’s belief in horoscopes isn’t met with the same stoic reception as religious beliefs, especially since astrology is a key tenet of many religions, such as Vedic astrology in Hinduism. Why does astrology garner such a disproportionately-incensed reaction? Did people view astrology as a replacement to science? To me, it appears that those who believe in astrology aren’t trying to explain the fundamental nature of the universe, they’re simply using astrology as a framework for processing their emotions. It’s auxiliary to their belief system. To that point, are religion and science even compatible? If anything, religion and science have more contradictions, but people still evangelize science to validate their religions.
To explore these questions further, I started delving deeper into astrology. Perhaps astrology is fundamentally misunderstood and I wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. There are two primary forms of astrology: sidereal astrology and tropical astrology. Sidereal is the system used in Vedic astrology, which is what my grandparents practice, and tropical is the system used in the Western world, the form of astrology typically scrutinized by skeptics.
The primary difference between sidereal and tropical is the way they divide their sectors of the sky, relative to the position of the sun. Sidereal astrology defines the position of the sun relative to fixed stars in the sky, whereas tropical astrology defines the position of the sun relative to the Earth’s seasons. The dates of signs are fixed in tropical astrology (Taurus will always be between April 20 and May 20), but this isn’t the case in sidereal astrology. In fact, the two zodiac cycles are out of phase by 24 degrees, or a zodiac sign apart, due to an astronomical phenomena called the Precision of the Equinoxes. For instance, I’m a Taurus in tropical astrology, but an Aries in sidereal astrology.
One of the questions people have with astrology is why they can’t relate to their zodiac sign. To cynics, this potential for contradiction between the horoscope and reality represents a large flaw in astrology. But what I’ve learned from astrology is how flexible it is. Like the emotions it describes, astrology has nuance. You have the option between either Vedic or Western astrology, or you can use the perspectives from both systems. You have the option to make these choices on your own, or to consult an astrologist.
You aren’t necessarily pigeonholed into anything, and that’s because you’re more than just your sun sign (zodiac sign). You’re a reflection of all of your signs, which include signs representing the positions of the other celestial objects, such as the moon and other planets. However, two of the most important signs are the aforementioned sun sign, which represents your “soul’s essence” or who you’re destined to be, and your ascendent (rising sign), which represents your outward personality — how you portray yourself to the public.
It’s difficult to discuss personality and soul without speaking extremely abstractly, so I can understand the widespread unease behind astrology. It makes a definitive statement on something seemingly visceral. I sometimes carry a different personality depending on who I’m conversing with, which is why it makes sense that my ascendent sign changes. I also subscribe to the belief that humans have a true self, or a soul, or an ideal self, or an essence or however you want to describe that, and I think it’s interesting how a birth chart can encapsulate all of that, regardless of how right or wrong it is.
However, some philosophers and psychologists don’t even believe in the existence of a true self, or they believe that a personality is inextricably tied to their soul, as opposed to being disconnected. To that end, you can interpret your chart differently to accommodate those beliefs. I interpret my chart with respect to my unique perspective on the relationship between personality and soul.
Let’s say that my astronomical sign suits how I regard myself 100% of the time. For instance, as a Taurus, I’m supposedly reserved, which matches reality. Obviously, I’d be very confident in my horoscope. However, I’m aware that I’m a rare exception, and in someone else’s case, their sign may not align with their own self image. But I don’t think I need to concern myself with that. The bottom line is that astrology works for me, and it may not work for others, and that’s okay; we can decide for ourselves whether to follow astrology.
At the end of the day, astrology is a heuristic, which is any approach to problem solving or self-discovery that employs a practical method that is not guaranteed to be optimal, perfect or rational. As humans, we make thousands of decisions each day and don’t have the time to formulate a rational course of action for each of them. To this end, we use heuristics. For instance, if I’m in traffic, I could make an impulsive decision to take an unfamiliar route. They’re just rules of thumbs that make life more comprehensible. Life is weird, and cognitive overload is real; we’ve just endured an unprecedented pandemic, and perhaps astrology can provide a guide.
As an Engineering student, I’m a man of science. But I can acknowledge that science doesn’t help me get through my day-to-day routine. Astrology is a microcosm of a larger picture describing how human beings make decisions, no different from religion. What if my horoscope tells me that I’m supposed to demonstrate compassion today, and I make someone’s day better as a result? Let’s not ruin something positive and harmless.
Rohit Ramaswamy is an Opinion Columnist from Tampa, Florida. He writes about lifestyle advice, and he enjoys playing chess and watching basketball. He can be reached at rohitra@umich.edu.