Recently, I started taking a course on advanced algorithms, and I was surprised to discover that it shares something very interesting with the study of astrology.

The real world contains far more information than we can fully process.

Time is limited. Memory is limited. The future is unknown. Variables influence one another, and many problems are simply too complex to solve with perfect accuracy.

Faced with that kind of complexity, human beings create models.

Astrology transforms the complexity of human experience and the movement of time into a symbolic system of planets, houses, aspects, and cycles.

Algorithms also compress reality into variables, probabilities, graphs, constraints, and objective functions.

In that sense, they are both doing something similar:

Complex reality

→ simplified model

→ interpretation, prediction, or decision-making

But there is also an important difference between them.

Astrology tends to transform uncertainty into meaning.

It asks:

What does this period mean?

What themes are being activated by this aspect?

What kind of growth, conflict, or transformation is a person going through?

Algorithms, on the other hand, tend to transform uncertainty into probabilities, costs, and error bounds.

They continue by asking:

What is this judgment based on?

How wrong could it be in the worst case?

How many resources does it require on average?

How far is it from the optimal solution?

Can the result be tested and repeated?

In other words, astrology is more concerned with the question:

“What does this mean?”

Algorithms are more concerned with:

“What can I guarantee?”

This made me realize that what mathematics offers is not necessarily the power to predict the future. It offers a system of control.

Not control over the future itself, but control over:

how large our errors might be,

how much the method costs,

how much information it uses,

how much detail it leaves out,

and how reliable its conclusions really are.

I think this has a lot to offer the study of astrology.

For example, astrologers often say:

“A Saturn transit may bring pressure.”

But if we continue asking questions in a more rigorous way, we might ask:

What exactly do we mean by “pressure”?

Does it mean increased workload, relationship restrictions, low mood, physical exhaustion, or something else?

Is the relevant time window a few days, a few weeks, or several months?

How often do similar events happen even without this transit?

If many transits are happening at the same time, how should we assign weight to each one?

When a prediction does not happen, do we record that honestly, or do we reinterpret it afterward?

These questions are not necessarily meant to dismiss astrology.

On the contrary, they can help us distinguish between:

observation,

symbolic interpretation,

prediction,

and meaning assigned after the fact.

There are several ideas from algorithm theory that I think could be especially useful for astrology.

The first is the idea of an approximation algorithm.

Some problems are too difficult to solve perfectly within a reasonable amount of time. Instead of insisting on an exact answer, an approximation algorithm aims for an answer that is good enough, with a known and controlled margin of error.

Perhaps astrology does not always need to claim:

“This specific event will definitely happen.”

It may be more accurate to say:

“During this period, a certain category of themes may be more likely to emerge.”

That does not reduce the value of astrology. It simply makes the claim more precise.

The second idea is the online algorithm.

An online algorithm operates in a world where the future is unknown.

Information arrives one piece at a time, but decisions still have to be made in the present.

That is very similar to life.

We never get to see the complete outcome in advance. We can only make judgments based on the information available now, and revise them as new information appears.

Perhaps astrological interpretation should also be updated dynamically, rather than treating one reading as a fixed description of the entire future.

The third idea is competitive analysis.

An algorithm is not evaluated simply by asking:

“Does it work sometimes?”

Instead, we ask:

“Does it perform better than a simple baseline?”

If astrology wants to make claims about predictive ability, it could be compared with basic alternatives:

Is it more accurate than random guessing?

Is it more accurate than assuming tomorrow will be roughly similar to today?

Is it more accurate than using only age, occupation, season, or social circumstances?

Does adding astrological information provide any extra insight that can actually be tested?

A method occasionally being correct does not necessarily mean that it is effective.

The more important question is whether it consistently performs better than simpler methods.

The fourth idea is information compression.

A natal chart is also a highly compressed model.

It transforms an enormous amount of astronomical information from a specific moment into a limited set of symbols:

planets, signs, houses, and aspects.

Compression allows us to work with complexity, but compression always loses some detail.

Different lives may be compressed into similar symbolic patterns. The same symbol may also correspond to many different real-world events.

This is somewhat like a hash collision in computer science:

different things may be mapped to the same location.

So symbolic similarity does not necessarily mean that the underlying realities are identical.

The fifth idea is probabilistic updating.

When we see a transit, we can begin with a possible interpretation without immediately treating it as certain.

As real events unfold, we can gradually increase or decrease our confidence in that interpretation.

If reality repeatedly fails to match the prediction, then the model should be revised.

We should not endlessly expand the interpretation until every possible outcome can be explained as something astrology had predicted all along.

I am beginning to think that the deepest difference between astrology and algorithms may be this:

Astrology tends to turn uncertainty into meaning.

Algorithms tend to turn uncertainty into probabilities, costs, and error bounds.

The first can help us understand life.

The second can help us place limits on our own judgments.

Perhaps the two do not have to be completely opposed.

We can preserve astrology as a symbolic, narrative, reflective, and time-based practice, while also introducing the discipline of algorithmic thinking:

Which statements are facts?

Which are interpretations?

Which can be tested?

Which are only suggestive?

Are errors recorded?

Under what conditions should a model be revised, or even abandoned?

For me, the most valuable part of combining these perspectives is not using mathematics to “prove that astrology is correct.”

It is using mathematics to help us distinguish more honestly between:

the symbolic value of astrology,

its predictive ability,

the role of cognitive bias,

and the limits created by uncertainty.

Perhaps mature research is not about becoming more confident in saying:

“I know the future.”

Perhaps it is about becoming clearer about saying:

“I know how much I know, and how much I do not.”