WITCHCRAFT

In the twenty-first century, people are still being murdered for witchcraft. Not in some metaphorical sense. Not in the sanitized, Halloween-costume, crystal-shop sense. Murdered. Burned. Stoned. Drowned. Children, in some cases. Old women, in most. At the same time, millions of educated, internet-connected adults describe themselves as witches — they cast spells, read tarot, gather under full moons. Some of them are your coworkers. Some of them are your therapists. Some of them hold advanced degrees in fields that should, by all rights, have inoculated them against this sort of thing. Witchcraft: History, Mystery, and the Space Between is an investigation into the oldest and most persistent accusation in human history — one that began on Akkadian clay tablets four thousand years ago and continues, unbroken, into the age of TikTok witches and algorithmic divination. It is not a believer's manifesto. It is not a skeptic's debunking. It is a book about the cognitive architecture underneath both. Across sixteen chapters, the book traces five thousand years of magical belief, persecution, and practice — from the Mesopotamian priests inscribing curse tablets to the poisoners of Louis XIV's court; from the burning times of early modern Europe to the contemporary witch killings in Ghana, Tanzania, and Papua New Guinea; from Gerald Gardner's 1950s Wicca to the million-strong Wiccan moms, crystal-shop entrepreneurs, and Discord-server witches of the modern West. It hunts for the answer to a deceptively simple question: why won't it die? What emerges is something stranger than either side of the usual argument. The same psychological mechanisms that make a placebo work in a clinical trial make a curse work in a village. The same neurological architecture that produces a mystical experience in a cathedral produces sleep paralysis in a dark bedroom. The seventeenth-century neighbour who accused her village midwife and the twenty-first-century coworker who calls her ex "toxic" are reaching for the same tool. What differs is the culture that tells them what shape the tool is allowed to take — and whether their society lets them act on it. Every claim in the book is tagged by epistemic status: Verified, Plausible, Speculative, or Author's testimony. Nothing is fabricated. Nothing is sensationalized. The truth is strange enough. Drawing on archival research, anthropological fieldwork, neuroscience, clinical psychology, and first-person reportage — including a return, four hundred years later, to the Alsatian village where the book's opening witch trial took place — Witchcraft is about the line between the rational and the irrational, and the discovery that the line was never where we thought it was. A book for anyone who has ever looked into the dark and felt it looking back.