Solunars by Aldebaran Sidereal Academy

The title above is a little misleading, but it has over 70-years of history so we're stuck with it until we think of a better one. It doesn't mean, for example, that there are multiple zodiacs or that the possibilities of where a zodiac exists are limited to only 30.

This test is perhaps the single most important statistical study Donald Bradley ever conducted - and repeated over and over again. It not only takes us back to the roots of Fagan, Bradley, and their collaborators discovering that there IS a Sidereal zodiac and exactly where it falls - it also shows that even if there were no historical information about such a zodiac, it would have been discovered anew in the middle of the 20th century.

This test has been confusing to most people over time. They misinterpret what it shows or wat is being claimed from it. I'll tell you the punch line now: The test I'm now about to describe shows that data collected and analyzed in many different studies shows that there does appear to be a zodiac - in the sense of twelve 30°-wide segments of the ecliptic that meaningfully describe life characteristics such as occupation. Furthermore, it shows that these are so structured that the beginning of these segments is not at 0° of the Tropical signs but, rather, at approximately 23° of the Tropical signs - at least for people born in the 19th and 20th centuries.

In simpler words: There appears to be a zodiac (in the way we normally think of one) and it is aligned (at least to the nearest degree) with where Sidereal astrologers put the boundaries, not with where Tropical astrologers put the boundaries. To this finding, we can then add (what I take to be a terribly important finding) that, based on Cyril Fagan's summaries of what scholars have found regarding ancient zodiacs, the statistically identified boundaries of the zodiac exactly match - to the degree - where the ancient Egyptian and Babylonian boundaries would fall.

The study below does not concern itself with what signs are stronger or weaker for a given phenomenon (e.g., which Sun-signs are most common or uncommon for clergymen or physicians). That part of the study is examined by different methods. This immediate analysis focuses on the structural elements of the zodiac: Whether there appears to be a zodiac at all and, if so, where it falls.

Statistical analysis provides mathematical tools that measure whether something we observe is truly un usual, i.e. unlikely to exist in a random world.

In other words, when we think we've seen something unusual that suggests that a phenomenon exists Ie.g., "sure looks like a zodiac exists to me!"), e roll back that conclusion and start with the assumption that there is nothing unusual going on - that we just life in a world of random, meaningless occurrences. Next, we give the data a chance to prove us wrong!

For example, we start with the idea that there probably isn't a zodiac of 12 equal signs. (This sort of thing is called a null hypothesis.) Next, we ask ourselves what things would look like if we're wrong about that. Then we gather data to see if things actually look that way. Next, we examine the data mathematically to see if any exciting bumps and holes are really unusual or, in the alternative, could easily exist randomly. Finally, we allow ourselves to draw conclusions from what the math shows - to impose reason and interpretation on mathematical inferences. When possible, we repeat the study with different data to see if it produces the same results.

So: What would we expect to see if there were a zodiac?

There are several ways to answer this question. Most astrologers would agree, though, that Sun in a sign is important and that the nature of a sign - what makes it a sign in the first place - is a more or less homogenous expression of certain characteristics throughout the whole sign.

Some astrologers would reasonably nit-pick these two allegations, but I think most would ultimately agree on them. For example, some would rightly assert that planetary bodies other than Sun might be equally or similarly important in signs, or that Sun's position might not be the best "fit" for the specific phenomenon we're examining (such as an occupation); however, that doesn't really contradict the premise that Sun in a sign is important and worth investigating to see whether it produces meaningful results.

Other astrologers likely would object that the nature of a sign is NOT a homogenous expression of certain characteristics throughout the whole sign, because they hold that signs are subdivided into decanates and other divisions that have different characteristics in one part of the sign than in another part. Nonetheless, even these astrologers generally would agree that there are characteristics that make the whole sign a thing in itself, e.g., that Taurus is Taurus from front to back even though they think the first 10° are a different spin on Taurus themes than the middle or last 10°.

So, we have a two-point premise worth testing: that (1) Sun in a sign at birth is important and (2) the nature of a sign is a more or less homogenous expression of certain characteristics throughout the whole sign.

It is this second point - the premise that the nature of a sign is a more or less homogenous in its nature throughout the whole sign - that is the (usually unstated) basis of the test historically called "30 possible zodiac."

The idea seems so basic to astrology that nobody ever gets around to saying it, but you should be able to follow the logic easily. In fact, the most confusing part is that it seems to be stating something so obvious that one is tempted to think that one has missed the point.

Here it is: If there is a 30° segment called, say, Leo (or any other sign) that has certain traits or other characteristics, and if we are able to measure those traits or other characteristics, then we'll get a better result if we actually use the boundaries of Leo - from 0°00' Leo to 29°60' Leo. This would be the ideal segment to study, yes? We would expect to dilute the results and perhaps confuse ourselves if we mixed in examples from outside 0°-30° Leo.

For example, we wouldn't expect the results to be as clear if we (accidentally or on purpose) only used half of Leo - say, 1°-15° - and also used the last half of Cancer. Since our premise includes the idea that Cancer is different in significant ways from Leo, and Leo is different in significant ways from Virgo, etc., then we would want to use exactly the boundaries of Leo.

Of course, we are starting our examination not knowing where those boundaries fall. Is there a way for the data to tell us?

Yes, there is: On the premise that the best expression of Leo comes from sampling only Leo placements of Sun, we expect that 1°-30° Leo is the best zone; 30° Cancer to 29° Leo would be slightly muddied; 29° Cancer to 28° Leo would produce even weaker results, etc. Using a degree as a convenient interval, we would expect less decisive results with every degree we misalign with the actual boundaries of Leo.

Conversely, we expect stronger results - more decisive, more statistically unusual - the more exactly we align our measurements with the actual boundaries of Leo.

If, of course, there is actually a Leo, or even a zodiac, in the first place - which is what we're out to find out.

But we don't actually care (at the moment) whether Leo is important to whatever we're studying. We first want to know if there is a zodiac at all. We're not interested in just assuming there are signs, or assuming we know where they are if there ARE signs. We want the data to answer the bigger structural picture first.

We want to know: Is whatever data we are studying distributed such that something unusual and potentially meaningful is revealed by Sun's placement within any possible set of discrete 30° segments of the ecliptic.

From observing all sorts of statistical analyses across not only astrology but other fields, if a zodiac of signs exists, we expect the following pattern: Suppose we are studying a group of, say, a large number of people who became eminent in a specific occupation. If 12 signs exist, each having its own native characteristics, then we might see one or more signs score very high for this occupation (an unusually high frequency) and one or more other signs score very low (an unusually low frequency). From the point of measuring unusualness, these are interchangeable. We don't care if a sign appears especially pro or con the occupation. Either result would demonstrate an astrological result.

We also could expect that some signs would have milder pro or con relationships to the occupation (would be slightly pro or con). Other signs (perhaps most) would have no significant tendency pro or con success in the profession - they would be neutral to it.

Therefore, of the many analytical approaches we might take, our ideal mathematical tool would have three particular characteristics: (1) It would make no distinction between unusually high scores and unusually low scores. Either would produce simply a measure of unusualness. (2) Its measurement would mushroom as unusualness increased; i.e., signs showing no pro or con tendency at all wouldn't really affect the score, signs showing a moderate degree of unusualness would start to stand out more, and signs showing considerable unusualness would have a much stronger impact on the final results. (3) The scores produced by different categories could be added to each other by simple arithmetic rather than requiring independent calculations for every possible combination of variables (since there are so many).

Fortunately, we have such a tool: It's called a chi-square. It's perhaps the most widely used analytic scoring tool for statisticians. Mathematicians know it well, and the non-mathematical of my readers don't need to know the technicalities (and can easily look them up if they wish). Suffice it to say that it meets all three criteria just set forth.

[TO BE CONTINUED]