Magic (primarily misdirection and cold-reading, but also the mechanics like sleight-of-hand) seems like an extremely good case-study in the study of how the human mind works and the predictable ways in which human maps differ from the territory. There are several magicians out there who offer to teach classes and so forth, but are there any who can be vouched for as really "knowing their stuff" as a teacher if I wanted to approach the subject in this light? Relatedly, can anyone vouch for the quality of the Penn and Teller course on the MasterClass platform?

Bonus points for teachers in London who can be hired for small (up to 10 people) groups.

New Answer
New Comment

2 Answers sorted by



(speaking as someone who has been into magic as a hobby and as a part time job)

Instead of listing some magic resources, I'll try to point out some things that might lead you to giving up magic prematurely.

A very common beginning magic experience is to learn the secret to some tricks and feel like "There's nooooo way this bullshit will ever fool anyone." You will especially feel this about some of the strongest/boldest misdirection based effects. This can lead to either never performing magic for people, or strong magician's guilt that leads to fumbling magic tricks. Magician's guilt is when your "this is so obvious, I'm going to be caught and it's going to be horrible" monologue manifests itself in body language grossly enough for a spectator to go, "They just did something weird. I don't know what it was, but something fishy happened." Really, it's super hard to predict what will and won't fool people. You've got to do go out and perform for people a lot and see what works.

Magician quip: "Amateurs know 100 tricks. Real pros know about 6."

The pattern this quote is pointing to is that new magicians are normally only performing for a small pool of friends and family. People start to catch on after a week of being shown the same trick again and again (or they get fed up with it). This causes a lot of beginners to move onto new magic tricks before they ever really master what they were just working on. If you interested in building skill, be on the look out for settings that allow you to perform the same trick a lot of times. In high school I did a "Magic Wednesday" where once a week I'd pick one trick and perform it for 8 different groups in a day. This helps you learn much faster than performing 8 different effects for one group.

A general practice mantra is "Practice until you can do it perfect in front of a mirror, practice until you can do it perfect with patter, then the real fun practice begins of doing it in front of people."

Good Luck!

A formative experience in my attitude to magic was when I saw an excellent sleight-of-hand magician performing to my small group of friends (waiting in a line for an event). He was very convincing and great fun; but there was a moment in the middle of his series of tricks when my attention was caught by something else in the distance. When I looked back after five seconds of distraction, he was mid-trick; and I saw him matter-of-factly take a foam ball from his hand, put it into his pocket, and then open his hand to reveal no foam balls - to general astoni... (read more)

5 comments, sorted by Click to highlight new comments since:

Tangential. I don't know much about magic beyond one or two basic tricks, but I spent some time learning hypnosis on my own, and had quite a bit of success getting willing subjects into trance, online or in person. One thing I have learned from my experience is that the conscious self-aware mind is a thin veneer on the vast subconscious animal self, and the trick of a magician or a hypnotist (or a politician, or any successful leader) is to bypass the critical faculties and interact with the subconscious mind directly. Then the subject's conscious mind will rationalize the subconscious feelings and needs with some ad hoc logic. Once you learn "this one trick", the rest is likely to follow naturally.

In my experience as a subject of hypnosis, I always have a background thought that I could choose to not do/feel the thing, that I choose to do/feel as I'm told. I distinctly remember feeling the background thought there, before choosing to do, or letting myself feel, the thing I'm told. It is still surprising how much and ho many things that are usually subconscious can be controlled through it, though.

On Wednesdays at the Princeton Graduate College, various people would come in to give talks. The speakers were often interesting, and in the discussions after the talks we used to have a lot of fun. For instance, one guy in our school was very strongly anti-Catholic, so he passed out questions in advance for people to ask a religious speaker, and we gave the speaker a hard time.
Another time somebody gave a talk about poetry. He talked about the structure of the poem and the emotions that come with it; he divided everything up into certain kinds of classes. In the discussion that came afterwards, he said, “Isn’t that the same as in mathematics, Dr. Eisenhart?”
Dr. Eisenhart was the dean of the graduate school and a great professor of mathematics. He was also very clever. He said, “I’d like to know what Dick Feynman thinks about it in reference to theoretical physics.” He was always putting me on in this kind of situation.
I got up and said, “Yes, it’s very closely related. In theoretical physics, the analog of the word is the mathematical formula, the analog of the structure of the poem is the interrelationship of the theoretical bling-bling with the so-and so”—and I went through the whole thing, making a perfect analogy. The speaker’s eyes were beaming with happiness.
Then I said, “It seems to me that no matter what you say about poetry, I could find a way of making up an analog with any subject, just as I did for theoretical physics. I don’t consider such analogs meaningful.”
In the great big dining hall with stained-glass windows, where we always ate, in our steadily deteriorating academic gowns, Dean Eisenhart would begin each dinner by saying grace in Latin. After dinner he would often get up and make some announcements. One night Dr. Eisenhart got up and said, “Two weeks from now, a professor of psychology is coming to give a talk about hypnosis. Now, this professor thought it would be much better if we had a real demonstration of hypnosis instead of just talking about it. Therefore he would like some people to volunteer to be hypnotized.
I get all excited: There’s no question but that I’ve got to find out about hypnosis. This is going to be terrific!
Dean Eisenhart went on to say that it would be good if three or four people would volunteer so that the hypnotist could try them out first to see which ones would be able to be hypnotized, so he’d like to urge very much that we apply for this. (He’s wasting all this time, for God’s sake!)
Eisenhart was down at one end of the hall, and I was way down at the other end, in the back. There were hundreds of guys there. I knew that everybody was going to want to do this, and I was terrified that he wouldn’t see me because I was so far back. I just had to get in on this demonstration!
Finally Eisenhart said, “And so I would like to ask if there are going to be any volunteers …”
I raised my hand and shot out of my seat, screaming as loud as I could, to make sure that he would hear me: “MEEEEEEEEEEE!”
He heard me all right, because there wasn’t another soul. My voice reverberated throughout the hall—it was very embarrassing. Eisenhart’s immediate reaction was, “Yes, of course, I knew you would volunteer, Mr. Feynman, but I was wondering if there would be anybody else.”
Finally a few other guys volunteered, and a week before the demonstration the man came to practice on us, to see if any of us would be good for hypnosis. I knew about the phenomenon, but I didn’t know what it was like to be hypnotized.
He started to work on me and soon I got into a position where he said, “You can’t open your eyes.”
I said to myself, “I bet I could open my eyes, but I don’t want to disturb the situation: Let’s see how much further it goes.” It was an interesting situation: You’re only slightly fogged out, and although you’ve lost a little bit, you’re pretty sure you could open your eyes. But of course, you’re not opening your eyes, so in a sense you can’t do it.
He went through a lot of stuff and decided that I was pretty good.
When the real demonstration came he had us walk on stage, and he hypnotized us in front of the whole Princeton Graduate College. This time the effect was stronger; I guess I had learned how to become hypnotized. The hypnotist made various demonstrations, having me do things that I couldn’t normally do, and at the end he said that after I came out of hypnosis, instead of returning to my seat directly, which was the natural way to go, I would walk all the way around the room and go to my seat from the back.
All through the demonstration I was vaguely aware of what was going on, and cooperating with the things the hypnotist said, but this time I decided, “Damn it, enough is enough! I’m gonna go straight to my seat.”
When it was time to get up and go off the stage, I started to walk straight to my seat. But then an annoying feeling came over me: I felt so uncomfortable that I couldn’t continue. I walked all the way around the hall.
I was hypnotized in another situation some time later by a woman. While I was hypnotized she said, “I’m going to light a match, blow it out, and immediately touch the back of your hand with it. You will feel no pain.”
I thought, “Baloney!” She took a match, lit it, blew it out, and touched it to the back of my hand. It felt slightly warm. My eyes were closed throughout all of this, but I was thinking, “That’s easy. She lit one match, but touched a different match to my hand. There’s nothin’ to that; it’s a fake!”
When I came out of the hypnosis and looked at the back of my hand, I got the biggest surprise: There was a burn on the back of my hand. Soon a blister grew, and it never hurt at all, even when it broke.
So I found hypnosis to be a very interesting experience. All the time you’re saying to yourself, “I could do that, but I won’t”—which is just another way of saying that you can’t.
  • Surely You Must Be Joking Mr Feynman

If you're saying "Manipulating people like that wouldn't work, because you always get to choose whether to do what a hypnotist tells you to" then I see two objections.

  • The fact that you think you could choose not to do it doesn't mean you actually could in any very strong sense. Perhaps it just feels that way.
  • It could be that when someone's explicitly, blatantly trying to manipulate you via your subconscious, you get to choose, but that a sufficiently skilled manipulator can do it without your ever noticing, in which case you don't have the chance to say no.

(I am not sure that that is what you're saying, though, and if it isn't then those points may be irrelevant.)

If you take a lesson in London, and if you'd be interested in having people join you, then I might be interested in joining you.