Overview
In a recent essay posted to his Substack, cultural historian Mitch Horowitz makes a case for treating occultism as a serious field of scholarly inquiry. Drawing on Frances A. Yates’s The Occult Philosophy in the Elizabethan Age (1979) and André Vanden‑Broeck’s Al‑Kemi (1987), Horowitz argues that the “hidden” dimensions described by occult thinkers are not merely fringe curiosities but integral to understanding the intellectual currents of early modern Europe. At the same time, historian Ronald Hutton’s latest reviews of three newly released monographs on shamanism highlight how contemporary scholarship continues to expand, and sometimes blur, the boundaries of what counts as “occult” or “esoteric” practice. Both pieces underscore a growing consensus that historical reinterpretations keep these topics intellectually vibrant, even as terminology remains contested.
Horowitz’s Central Thesis
Horowitz begins by recalling a personal “epiphanic” moment triggered by Yates and Vanden‑Broeck, works that trace occult ideas from Renaissance hermeticism to early modern alchemical theory. He challenges the dismissive view famously articulated by Theodor W. Adorno, who wrote in 1947 that “Occultism is the metaphysic of dunces.” Horowitz contends that such blanket condemnation stems from a “category‑of‑query versus scale‑of‑quality” bias, where scholars judge a subject by its perceived novelty rather than the rigor of its treatment.
“The thrill of judgment without query… limits breadth and clarity,” Horowitz writes, urging historians to look beyond conventional biographies. He points to overlooked occult influences on figures such as Frederick Douglass (hoodoo), Mahatma Gandhi (Theosophy), Charles Lindbergh (Spiritualism), Theodore Dreiser (paranormalism), and Upton Sinclair (telepathy). By integrating these hidden strands, Horowitz believes the academic picture of modernity becomes richer and more accurate.
Defining the Occult
To avoid semantic drift, Horowitz offers a concise definition: the occult concerns “the existence of unseen dimensions or intersections of time… possessed of their own events, causes, intelligences, and perhaps iterations of ourselves; the influence of these realms is felt… without mediation by religion or doctrine.” He distinguishes this from esotericism, which typically operates as an inner counterpart to an established exoteric religion. The occult, by contrast, is “independent of religion—though not necessarily rejecting of it,” and emerged in the West as a response to the rupture with traditional Abrahamic frameworks during the Renaissance.
This clarification matters because it frames the discipline not as a catch‑all for mystical practices worldwide, but as a historically specific Western phenomenon that can be examined with the same methodological tools applied to political, artistic, or scientific movements.
Hutton’s Review of New Shamanism Studies
Ronald Hutton, a noted historian of early modern Britain, provides a complementary perspective in his recent reviews of three books on shamanism. While the titles are not listed in the source, Hutton notes that the volumes collectively “expand the geographic and temporal scope of shamanic studies” and, in doing so, “blur the definition of shamanism itself.” He observes that authors now trace shamanic motifs from Siberian rites to Caribbean folk healing, linking them to occult frameworks that echo the Renaissance fascination with hidden knowledge.
Hutton’s appraisal underscores a parallel trend: scholars are increasingly willing to map occult ideas onto non‑Western traditions, even as they caution against conflating distinct cultural systems. This tension mirrors Horowitz’s own warning about semantic confusion, suggesting that the field is moving toward a more nuanced, interdisciplinary dialogue.
Implications for Scholarship
Both Horowitz and Hutton highlight a pivotal shift: occult studies are moving from the margins to the mainstream of intellectual history. By foregrounding primary sources—Yates’s meticulous archival work, Vanden‑Broeck’s translation of alchemical manuscripts, and the ethnographic data in the new shamanism books—researchers can assess the occult’s impact on politics, literature, and science without resorting to sensationalism.
The growing acceptance of occultism as a legitimate analytical lens also invites universities to consider dedicated courses or research centers, similar to the rise of “science and religion” programs in the past two decades. However, as Horowitz cautions, scholars must maintain a clear terminological boundary to prevent the dilution of the concept and to preserve scholarly rigor.
Looking Ahead
The conversation sparked by Horowitz’s essay and Hutton’s reviews signals that the intellectual soundness of occultism is no longer a peripheral question but a central concern for historians of ideas. As more archival material becomes digitized and interdisciplinary methodologies gain traction, future research will likely uncover further occult undercurrents in the lives of prominent historical figures and in the evolution of modern thought. For now, the debate remains vibrant, reminding academics that the “hidden” may hold as much explanatory power as the overt, provided it is examined with the same critical standards applied to any other field of study.
