5 biggest tarot myths: it's not evil, not 100% accurate, not just for psychics. Death doesn't mean dying. You CAN read for yourself. Tarot is a self-reflection tool, not magic.
Almost everything the average person "knows" about tarot came from somewhere other than tarot's actual history — a horror film, a secondhand warning, or a 240-year-old book by a French scholar who made his claims up. The cards themselves have a documented paper trail stretching back to the 1400s, and that trail contradicts most of the popular story.
Below are the six claims we hear most often at Mooteeter, each with what the historical and practical record actually shows. We are not arguing that tarot is a science — it isn't, and any reader who tells you otherwise should lose your trust. We're separating what tarot is from what people imagine it is.
| Common claim | What the record shows |
|---|---|
| Tarot was created for occult ritual | Created in northern Italy in the 1400s as a trick-taking card game (carte da trionfi, later tarocchi) |
| Tarot comes from ancient Egypt | Claimed by Antoine Court de Gébelin in 1781 with no evidence — before hieroglyphs could even be read |
| The cards predict fixed events | Modern reading practice treats cards as prompts for reflection on present conditions |
| You need psychic gifts | The 1909 Rider-Waite-Smith deck illustrated all 78 cards precisely so ordinary readers could interpret them |
| Death means someone dies | Card XIII is read as endings and transition; ethical readers never predict a death |
| You can't read for yourself | Common practice; the real obstacle is bias, not a rule |
That the deck itself carries dark power, or that shuffling it opens a door to something.
Tarot was invented in northern Italy in the first half of the 15th century as a card game. The decks were called carte da trionfi — "cards of triumphs" — and the game that used them became known as tarocchi. The oldest substantially surviving deck, the Visconti-Sforza tarot, was hand-painted and gilded around 1450 for the ducal family of Milan and is generally attributed to the painter Bonifacio Bembo. Its imagery is drawn from the Catholic and courtly world those patrons lived in: a Pope, a Hermit, a Wheel of Fortune, Temperance, Justice.
For roughly the first three centuries of its existence, tarot was played the way bridge or whist is played. Divination came later, in 18th-century France. So the historical objection "tarot was designed as an occult instrument" simply isn't accurate — it was designed as a deck of trumps for a trick-taking game.
That said, if your religious tradition asks you to avoid divination, that's a theological position, and a history lesson doesn't answer it. This article is about factual claims, not about telling anyone what their faith should permit.
That tarot preserves the lost Book of Thoth, or that Romani travellers brought the cards out of Egypt.
This one has a specific author and a specific date. In 1781, the French writer Antoine Court de Gébelin published the claim that the tarot deck encoded ancient Egyptian wisdom. He offered no evidence — he based it on how the pictures struck him. The Rosetta Stone had not yet been found, and it would be roughly four more decades before Jean-François Champollion made hieroglyphs readable. When Egyptian writing finally could be read, nothing in it supported the story. By then the claim had already been repeated so widely that it became "common knowledge."
The Romani version of the story is a second layer of the same invention, and it carries a cost that the Egyptian version doesn't: it attached an exotic, fortune-telling stereotype to a real ethnic group that has faced centuries of persecution for it. The older English term for that people is a slur, which is why you'll see "Romani" here. Tarot did not come from them. It came from Italian card tables.
A reader who claims their deck channels 5,000-year-old Egyptian priests is either misinformed or selling something. A reader who says "these are 15th-century European symbols people have been interpreting for 250 years" is being straight with you. The second one is more likely to be honest about everything else, too.
"The cards said I'll marry by 2027, so it must happen."
No reputable reading tradition treats the cards as a fixed timetable, and there is no evidence that they function as one. What a spread does is describe current conditions and the direction they're pointing. Change the conditions and the picture changes.
Tarot is like a forecast that says "70% chance of rain." If you carry an umbrella and stay dry, the forecast wasn't wrong — you responded to it. A reading that changes your behaviour and therefore doesn't come true has done its job.
Someone asks about a job they've applied for and draws the Five of Pentacles. The panicked reading is "I won't get it." The useful reading is what the card actually depicts: two figures walking past a lit window in the snow, help nearby but unnoticed. The practical question that follows is who have I not asked for help? — a referral, a mentor, a former manager. That question can change the outcome. "You won't get it" can't.
"I'd need a gift I don't have."
The modern deck was built to remove exactly that barrier. In 1909, the artist Pamela Colman Smith produced illustrations for all 78 cards at the direction of Arthur Edward Waite, published in London by William Rider & Son. Before that, most decks illustrated only the 22 trumps; the numbered suit cards were plain pips, like the 8 of clubs in a poker deck, and you had to memorise a meaning for each. Smith drew a scene on every single card. That single decision is why a beginner can look at the Eight of Pentacles, see a craftsman at a bench carving coin after coin, and reach "focused practice" without being told.
What you actually need to start is unglamorous: familiarity with the cards (begin with the Major Arcana — our Major vs. Minor Arcana guide explains the split), a calm and specific question, willingness to read the card in context rather than reciting a keyword, and repetition. Our beginner's guide walks through a first week of practice.
Readings after dark invite something unpleasant. Related rules: never buy your own deck, always wrap it in silk, never let anyone else touch the cards.
None of these appear in the historical record of tarot as a practice — they're folk customs that accumulated in the 20th century, mostly passed along by word of mouth. The "you must be gifted your first deck" rule in particular has no traceable origin and would have made the modern tarot publishing industry impossible.
What genuinely affects a reading is duller than any of that: whether you're rested, whether your question is clear, whether you're in a state to hear an answer you don't want. Many readers prefer late nights precisely because the house is quiet. Keep any ritual that helps you focus. Just don't mistake a personal habit for a law.
| Ritual rule | Where it comes from | Worth keeping? |
|---|---|---|
| No readings after midnight | General folk superstition about night | No — read when you're alert |
| Your first deck must be a gift | Untraceable 20th-century lore | No — buy your own |
| Wrap the deck in cloth | Practical card care, later ritualised | Yes, but for the cards' sake |
| Cleanse the deck between readings | Personal practice | Optional — it's a focus cue for you |
| Don't redraw a card you dislike | Reading discipline, not superstition | Yes — this one actually matters |
Drawing card XIII is an omen of a death.
Death is read as an ending that makes room for what comes next — a role you've outgrown, a relationship already over in practice, a version of yourself you've been maintaining out of habit. The card's traditional imagery points that way: a sunrise between two towers in the background, the sun coming up on whatever is next rather than going down on what's finished.
There's also an ethical line that responsible readers hold regardless of interpretation: you do not tell someone they or a loved one are going to die. A reader who does that is doing harm and should be walked away from. Our full Death card guide goes into the imagery in detail, and the Tower — the other card people dread — gets the same treatment.
You can, and most readers do. The difficulty is real but it's psychological, not mystical: you already know what you want the cards to say, so you unconsciously steer the interpretation toward it. Three habits keep a self-reading honest:
If you want a low-stakes place to practise, a single-card draw is the easiest format to keep honest — there's only one card to explain away.
They overlap but aren't identical. Fortune telling aims at predicting events. Most contemporary tarot reading — including how we present it here — aims at clarifying a situation you're already in. The same deck can be used either way; the difference is in what the reader claims.
For meaning, not much; for ease of learning, quite a lot. Because the Rider-Waite-Smith illustrations are the reference point for most English-language tarot writing, a deck built on that system will match what you read in guides. A deck with unillustrated pip cards is harder for a beginner for the reason described in Myth #4.
An interpretation can certainly be poor — too literal, too flattering, ignoring the question asked. But a reading isn't a testable prediction, so "wrong" in the scientific sense doesn't really apply. Treat it as a structured way of thinking about your situation, and judge it by whether it gave you something useful to do.
Usually because you keep asking about the same unresolved thing, and you notice repetition far more than absence. With 78 cards and frequent readings, repeats are expected. If a card genuinely recurs across different questions, it's worth treating as a theme you've been circling rather than a signal from outside.
That's your call, but be alert to a few things: a reader who names a date of death or illness, one who says your situation requires a paid "cleansing" or "curse removal," or one who discourages you from consulting a doctor, lawyer, or financial professional. Those are the reliable red flags, and none of them are about tarot — they're about the person.
Tarot's real history is more interesting than the invented one: a Renaissance card game whose trump images were so evocative that people spent the next three centuries reading meaning into them, and a 1909 artist who drew a scene on all 78 so anyone could. Nothing in that story requires magic, and nothing in it justifies fear.
If you want to go further, start with the beginner's guide, see which cards turn up most often in our card frequency article, or try a focused reading for love or career.