Why Sink a Tiger Head into the Water? Conflict and Coexistence of Cultural Meanings in Joseon Rainmaking Rituals

Abstract

This paper elucidates the cognitive and cultural underpinnings that facilitate the coexistence of multiple—occasionally contradictory—interpretive frameworks of magico-religious beliefs and practices within a single sociocultural context. Religious beliefs and practices frequently transcend the boundaries established by a tradition’s official doctrines and normative frameworks. From the perspective of religious authorities and theological elites, such transgressions may constitute sites of tension and doctrinal concern. However, individuals, as the primary agents of lived religion, rarely conceptualize these situations as crises of faith or legitimacy. Instead, they develop improvisational strategies to negotiate these apparent contradictions within their sociocultural milieus. At the cultural level, religious beliefs and practices are not rigidly constrained by dominant official doctrines and normative prescriptions; rather, they accommodate a diverse range of interpretive possibilities. Focusing on a specific rainmaking ritual known as “Tiger Head Sinking” from the Joseon Dynasty—a period marked by the hegemony of Neo-Confucian doctrinal and normative structures—this study investigates how the dynamic interplay between cognitive constraints and cultural schemas facilitates the coexistence of seemingly incompatible interpretations and folk theories of the ritual.

1. Introduction

Rituals are imbued with symbolic meaning, yet this meaning is neither fixed within the practice itself nor determined by a single authoritative interpretation (Bell 1997; Ricœur 2008; Ricœur 2011). Instead, the range of potential meanings that a ritual may assume within a sociocultural milieu can give rise to contradictions and conflicts. At the same time, however, such multiplicity enriches the cultural significance of the ritual and enables participants or observers to engage with it in diverse ways. It is widely recognized—both culturally and experientially—that rituals can bear multiple meanings. Nevertheless, the underlying processes that give rise to this semantic multiplicity have not yet been thoroughly explicated. Which factors, then, shape the emergence of multiple cultural meanings in ritual practices?

Wherever drought-induced suffering arises, some individuals inevitably perform rainmaking rituals. In agricultural societies, when drought ravages the land to the point of rendering farming nearly impossible, people turn to various entities or forces in supplication for rain. Historically, rainmaking formulae or rituals have appeared in multiple forms. Some vanished or were supplanted rather quickly, while others endured and were practiced repeatedly over long periods. Tiger Head Sinking (沈虎頭) is among the most distinctive and enduring rainmaking rituals of the Joseon dynasty (Choi 1999, 2007).

Literally defined, Tiger Head Sinking involves submerging a tiger’s head at specific water sites—such as rivers, lakes, ponds, or caves—in a ritualistic manner. From the early Joseon period, this practice was incorporated into state-sanctioned rainmaking ceremonies. However, no explicit theoretical principles or standardized ceremonial guidelines appear to have governed its performance. Nevertheless, the practice was seemingly widespread and persisted over an extended period throughout the country (Choi 1999).

The widespread popularity and longevity of Tiger Head Sinking are particularly intriguing, given that the Joseon state was founded upon Neo-Confucianism as its official ideology. Neo-Confucianism is a sophisticated metaphysical framework that does not depend on mystical or supernatural beliefs or magical practices. Consequently, the rainmaking formula inherent in Tiger Head Sinking would seemingly conflict with Neo-Confucian principles and norms of practice.

Tiger Head Sinking highlights two critical issues concerning the religious-historical significance of state-sanctioned rainmaking rituals in Joseon Korea. The first pertains to the conflict and coexistence between the official ideals of the state and practical realities on the ground. The second involves the conflict and coexistence of divergent semantic interpretations surrounding a ritual that lacks a formal doctrinal foundation.

Regarding the first issue, Korean religious scholars have extensively examined the history of religion in Joseon through a broad cultural-historical lens, portraying it as a dynamic interplay between official and popular religious traditions (Choi 2002; Lee 2009). However, the second issue remains relatively unexplored. Specifically, how did people in Joseon understand the Tiger Head Sinking ritual? While notable scholars have offered valuable insights to address this question, they have tended to overlook the possibility that multiple folk theories concerning rainmaking coexisted and shaped distinct interpretations of the ritual.

This study aims to re-examine these two issues and analyze how differing meanings of Tiger Head Sinking came into conflict and yet managed to coexist within Joseon culture. The primary sources for this investigation include (the Annals of the Joseon Dynasty n.d. (朝鮮王朝實錄); the Records of Rainmaking Rituals n.d. (祈雨祭謄錄); the Augmented Survey of the Geography of Korea n.d. (新增東國輿地勝覽)), works by Joseon literati, and contemporary scholarship. Methodologically, this research employs a cognitive science of religion framework that considers the cognitive constraints influencing religion and culture (Barrett 2022).1 By integrating historical and cognitive approaches, it elucidates the patterns, causes, and mechanisms through which the cultural meanings of the Tiger Head Sinking ritual remain unfixed.

2. Tiger Head Sinking in State-Sanctioned Rainmaking Rituals

2.1. The First Issue: The Incongruity Between Official Ideals and Practical Realities

Rainmaking rituals can be carried out through a variety of methods. In the early Joseon period, these methods drew upon multiple religious traditions—including Buddhism, Daoism, Shamanism, and assorted folk beliefs and practices (Choi 2007). This religious diversity was evident not only at the popular level but also in state-sanctioned rituals, a situation that stands in stark contrast to Joseon’s foundation upon the doctrinaire ideology of Neo-Confucianism.

During the Joseon dynasty, numerous rainmaking rituals were conducted under the central government’s supervision. According to records in both (Annals of the Joseon Dynasty n.d.; Records of Rainmaking Rituals n.d.), when drought struck, mostly between the fourth and seventh lunar months, the state frequently organized a series of rituals that may be collectively termed “state-sanctioned rainmaking rituals (國行祈雨祭)” (Choi 1997).

While these state-sanctioned rainmaking practices in Joseon inherited earlier Goryeo traditions, they were also systematically reorganized during the establishment of the new dynasty. Broadly speaking, their development reflects two concurrent processes: the reorganization and inauguration of ritual sites centered on the new capital following the relocation to Hanyang, and the gradual refinement of state ritual systems around core Confucian principles (Lee 2009). Recognizing these parallel processes helps clarify the historical trajectory of state-sanctioned rainmaking rituals and the dynamic interrelationships among the diverse ritual traditions that emerged during this period.

However, if we adopt a simplistic view—treating Joseon’s state-sanctioned rainmaking rituals merely as Confucian practices imposed by newly empowered social and political elites—we risk overlooking the folk theories that also shaped their historical figuration. This approach fails to account for the possibility that multiple cultural meanings coexisted within these rituals. In such a reading, we merely restate the political objectives of the Joseon government instead of exploring how state-sanctioned rainmaking rituals actually unfolded. Rather than constituting a seamlessly unified system meticulously refined via Confucian logic, Joseon’s state-sanctioned rainmaking rituals more closely resembled an ad hoc, heuristic response.

State-led rainmaking rituals had existed on the Korean Peninsula since the establishment of ancient states—an inheritance well acknowledged in the Joseon dynasty. This acceptance is clearly illustrated by a memorial submitted by the Ministry of Rites in 1394 (the third year of King Taejo’s reign) when ritual sites were being organized in the newly relocated capital at Hanyang. The memorial observed: “In our Eastern land, since the Three Kingdoms period, we have conducted sacrifices to Heaven at the Round Altar (圓丘, Wongu) and performed rituals to pray for a good harvest (祈穀, Gigok) and for rain (祈雨, Giu). These practices have continued for so long that they cannot be rashly abolished”.

Indeed, the state’s ritual efforts to summon rain in times of drought continued throughout the Joseon dynasty. The government employed a range of rainmaking practices, particularly in the early Joseon era, by mobilizing people with different ceremonial functions. For instance, even during King Taejong’s reign alone, rainmaking rituals were carried out at the Rain Altar (雩祀, Usa), the Round Altar (圓壇, Wondan), and the Altars for Soil and Grain (社稷, Sajik). Female shamans were sometimes enlisted to conduct rainmaking rites, while Buddhist monks burned their forearms or fingers in supplication for rain. Prayers were also offered at Yeonboksa Temple (演福寺), a temple dating from the Goryeo period.

Moreover, prayers for rain were conducted not only at the Royal Ancestral Shrine (宗廟, Jongmyo), the Altars for Soil and Grain, and various rivers and mountains, but also at Sogyeokjeon (昭格殿), a Daoist shrine. Additional measures included investigating and resolving unjust criminal cases, offering relief to the poor, burying exposed bones and corpses, and employing recognized ritual specialists, such as Mun Gahak (文可學). Officials likewise tried unorthodox methods, such as capturing lizards and placing them in incense-burning jars or mobilizing groups of twenty young boys to perform rainmaking ceremonies. In another instance, the blind were assembled at Myeongtongsi (明通寺) to pray, while at Heungcheonsa Temple’s (興天寺) Sarira Hall, more than ten nine-headed grass dragons were fashioned and a hundred Buddhist monks conducted ritual supplications.

Evidently, the state marshaled every available means to address the real threat of drought. Confucian officials might have framed this pragmatic strategy in terms of the classical dictum “No spirits are left unhonored and no sacrifices are withheld” (靡神不擧), interpreting it to mean that, in times of national crisis, the ruler should not be selective about ritual methods or venues (Choi 2002, p. 250).

Yet sustaining normative consistency in this approach proved challenging and sometimes became a source of controversy. Under these circumstances, establishing standardized procedures for state-sanctioned rainmaking rituals emerged as a key concern for ensuring systematic and efficient practice. Thus, while continuing to employ all available methods, the government also sought to codify foundational ceremonial guidelines, with the primary directive being adherence to ancient ritual precedents.

Even so, simply following historical precedents did not quell the potential controversies surrounding state-sanctioned rainmaking rituals. From the standpoint of Neo-Confucianism—the state’s founding ideology—the legitimacy of such rites was inherently questionable. Consequently, rather than delving deeply into doctrinal matters, the government sought greater control over the practical and procedural aspects of these rituals. By the eighteenth century, state-sanctioned rainmaking rituals had been standardized into a twelve-stage implementation sequence.

Within these formalized procedures, ritual sites and the ranks of officiants were arranged according to a Confucian hierarchy. Notably, ritual specialists from the Goryeo era—such as Buddhist monks, Daoist practitioners, shamans, and the blind—were systematically excluded, while Neo-Confucian officials took leading roles. The emphasis shifted toward reverence rather than coercion. Superficially, this might appear to represent the Confucianization of state-sanctioned rainmaking rituals. Yet in practice, many elements remained difficult to justify solely with Confucian concepts. Among these was the Tiger Head Sinking ritual, an example that underscores the incongruities between official ideals and pragmatic realities.

2.2. The Second Issue: Semantic Multiplicity

It remains unclear when Tiger Head Sinking first originated on the Korean Peninsula. As a state-sanctioned rainmaking ritual during the Joseon dynasty, however, its earliest documented performance appears in 1416 (the 16th year of King Taejong’s reign) at the Han River. Following the formal standardization of rainmaking rituals into twelve stages in the early 18th century, Tiger Head Sinking was maintained as the sixth stage. Official records indicate that it continued to be practiced as part of state-sanctioned rainmaking rituals until 1899 (the 36th year of King Gojong’s reign) (Records of Rainmaking Rituals n.d.).

Yet it would be difficult to assert that Tiger Head Sinking was conducted exclusively within the context of state-sanctioned ceremonies. According to (Augmented Survey of the Geography of Korea n.d.), numerous sites across the country were reputed to bring rain when Tiger Head Sinking or Tiger Bone Sinking (沈虎骨) was performed. This record identifies at least a dozen such locations—spanning Hanseongbu (the capital), Gyeongsang-do, Jeolla-do, Pyeongan-do, Gangwon-do, and Chungcheong-do. Admittedly, since tiger heads or bones were not readily accessible, one cannot assume that this practice was commonplace among the general populace. Nonetheless, the wide geographic distribution of sites associated with Tiger Head Sinking suggests that it was a culturally successful ritual during the Joseon period.

The logic and meaning behind Tiger Head Sinking were not always transparent. Even the Joseon officials charged with overseeing the ritual appear to have lacked a clear understanding. A practice might be readily adopted when reliable precedents exist, even if its logic and meaning are not fully grasped. Indeed, in many well-known religious traditions, a developed doctrinal system does not necessarily precede ritual practice. Instead, commentaries often emerge later to justify and systematize the meanings of prescribed rituals. This flexibility allows rituals to function not as mere “signs” reducible to a single meaning but rather as “symbols” evoking multiple interpretations.

Accordingly, two essential questions emerge: Why submerge a tiger’s head—a culturally symbolic and materially prized object—into water during a drought to induce rain? More precisely, why did people believe that Tiger Head Sinking could bring rain? While the direct inquiry may be phrased as “Why did they think it would work?”, a more nuanced approach asks the following: “When performing Tiger Head Sinking as a rainmaking ritual, how did people infer that this practice could yield rain?”

Addressing these questions involves three distinct lines of inquiry: (1) What was the predominant reasoning surrounding Tiger Head Sinking? (2) What concurrent forms of reasoning coexisted? (3) If different, potentially conflicting interpretations coexisted and each had cultural appeal, how could they do so simultaneously?

Contemporary researchers who examine the belief system and ritual principles of Tiger Head Sinking generally regard it as a dragon-related ritual (Lee 2009; Choi 2002). Two key observations support this interpretation: first, some Tiger Head Sinking sites feature the characters “yong” (龍) or “jin” (辰), denoting “dragon”; second, these locales were understood at the time as dragon dwellings.

In East Asia, dragons have long been regarded as capable of generating clouds and rain (Seo and Song 2002). Their emergence from hiding and ascent into the sky was believed to produce powerful winds, clouds, and rain. Even in modern Korea, a type of water-based tornado is referred to as yong-oreum (“dragon rising”). Moreover, dragons evolved beyond mere weather-manipulating creatures to become anthropomorphic deities known as Dragon Kings or Dragon Gods, each associated with water and revered through various forms of worship.

In light of these clues, two plausible interpretations of Tiger Head Sinking emerge, both of which find support in historical instances. First, one might view the ritual as coercive: by deploying an object dragons supposedly detest, the ritual effectively forces them to produce rain. Second, the ritual might be interpreted as a sacrificial offering to a Dragon King or Dragon God, petitioning for rain.

While there are no official contemporary records detailing its underlying rationale, modern scholars often favor the coercive interpretation, partly because parallels exist in Chinese writings and in accounts by Joseon scholars. For instance, Yi Gyu-gyeong (李圭景), an early 19th-century scholar, cited a similar rainmaking method from the Chinese scholar Dong Zhongshu (董仲舒). Indeed, the notion of forcing a dragon into action resonates with a broader East Asian trope of an archetypal rivalry between the dragon, which brings rain, and the tiger, which generates wind—expressed in the phrase yongho sangbak (龍虎相搏, “dragon–tiger confrontation”).2 Some East Asian records describe submerging tiger bones—an object dragons supposedly fear—to frighten them into movement and thus create rain.

Did the people of Joseon clearly understand Tiger Head Sinking as an act of dragon coercion? Historical sources suggest otherwise.3 Some records describe having a Daoist practitioner recite the “Chant for the Dragon King”, appealing directly to the water god during Tiger Head Sinking. In another account, officials debated whether using a rotten, worm-infested tiger head would fail to appease the heavens, particularly in a year when tiger heads were scarce. Still another instance shows an official proposing to offer a pig’s head if a tiger’s head could not be obtained. These accounts indicate that people performed the ritual without universally accepting the notion of coercing a hidden dragon. Rather, they suggest that various alternative interpretations—such as viewing the tiger head as a precious sacrificial item—were equally plausible. In such a reading, submersion becomes an offering to an underwater agent of rainfall rather than an instrument of compulsion.

Clearly, no single, definitive meaning for Tiger Head Sinking prevailed among the Joseon populace. Yet this does not imply that the ritual was semantically empty. On the contrary, it appears to have accommodated a rich multiplicity of possible interpretations, since the meaning of a ritual does not inhere solely in its form but arises through the inferences and reasoning of the people who engage with it.

This semantic multiplicity brings us to the final question raised earlier: How can differing—and sometimes contradictory—meanings remain culturally viable within the same society? The key lies in recognizing that meaning is constructed not by monolithic “societies” but by individuals with distinct perspectives. Moreover, not all potential meanings acquire widespread cultural acceptance (Koo and Kim 2024)4. The following chapter will explore this issue in greater detail.

3. Constraints on Cultural Success of Meanings

Tiger Head Sinking in the Joseon dynasty was part of a ritual response to drought. For desperate individuals facing life-threatening conditions, this practice may not have reliably produced rain, yet it offered a psychological sense of hope. Still, no formalized principles or official explanations existed to clarify its meaning. Even when performed as a state-sanctioned rainmaking rite, no governing authority provided theoretical guidelines. Rather, participants simply replicated established precedents and awaited results. In that sense, Tiger Head Sinking was a ritual that had to be enacted—even if not everyone believed in its efficacy.

Paradoxically, the absence of formal doctrinal guidelines meant that many people could serve as agents of meaning-making for this ritual. Individuals inferred the principles and significance of Tiger Head Sinking through diverse interpretations. Two prominent examples included viewing it as a means to provoke or “coerce” the mythical, rain-generating dragon or as an act of supplication—submerging a precious offering to the Dragon King or Dragon God as a water deity. Of course, these two explanations likely represent only a fraction of the interpretive possibilities. There is no reason to assume that different individuals’ understandings were limited to these particular interpretations.

Not all possible meanings, however, achieve cultural success. Some are quickly forgotten, whereas others gain traction and spread widely. Which factors both enable and constrain the range of plausible ritual meanings? Or put differently, which elements made certain interpretations of Tiger Head Sinking more appealing to the people of Joseon?

Addressing these questions requires consideration of various factors: sociological and historical circumstances (Shim 2024)5, the intrinsic symbolism and performance aspects of the ritual (Yoo 2021)6, and cognitive and psychological constraints7 that shape how meanings are formed and transmitted—this last dimension being the focus of the present analysis.

According to Sperber and Wilson ([1986] 1995), cognitively relevant inferences are more effectively communicated. “Cognitive relevance” refers to the ratio between the cognitive and contextual effects that new information yields and the mental effort required to obtain those effects (Sperber 1996). For example, when new information easily connects with existing knowledge (thus requiring minimal processing effort) and produces multiple useful implications (substantial cognitive effects), it is considered more relevant. Greater cognitive effects coupled with lower processing effort yield higher relevance for the individual at a particular time. Various cognitive mechanisms and psychological biases, shaped by our evolutionary history, play a crucial role in this process. While these biases do not necessarily yield accurate conclusions, they enable efficient decision-making.

Because of such psychological predispositions, certain ideas become more cognitively accessible—easier to process, remember, and transmit. Our cognitive architecture thus influences which representations tend to flourish in a culture.8 In particular, “intuitive inferences” require minimal mental effort while producing significant conceptual and emotional impacts, providing readily available frameworks for interpreting the world.

This principle also applies to the cultural success of religion. “Religion”, broadly defined, is a diffuse cultural phenomenon and cannot be treated as a direct biological adaptation (Boyer 2010). Yet various cognitive systems—shaped by evolution and still operative in modern humans—constrain our cultural activities. Such systems include agent-detection mechanisms, intuitive inferences about psychological, physical, and biological domains, social-interaction inferences, contamination-avoidance instincts, and memory processes. Scholars aligned with the standard theory in the cognitive science of religion propose that common notions of supernatural agents and ritual practices emerge as incidental by-products of these everyday cognitive systems (McCauley and Lawson 2002; Whitehouse 2004; Boyer 2010). Because concepts pertaining to supernatural agents or ritual activities arise naturally from these cognitive operations, they can be effortlessly mapped onto the myriad situations humans encounter. Consequently, religious thought and behavior can vary widely. Among these varied possibilities, some forms of religious representation more closely align with multiple cognitive systems and therefore lodge more firmly in people’s minds. In this sense, cognitive scientists of religion interpret the emergence and cultural success of religious beliefs and behaviors in terms of “aggregate relevance,” which reflects the functioning of numerous cognitive systems (Boyer 2001).

The human mind’s capacities evolved across millennia, as our ancestors navigated an array of environmental pressures: natural and artificial objects, potential predators and prey, and other humans who demanded cooperation or exchange, as well as corpses, contaminants, and infectious agents. Over time, people developed specialized inference systems for different ontological categories (e.g., person, animal, artifact), each operated by dedicated neural structures (Boyer 2001; Boyer and Ramble 2001). These systems underlie “intuitive” domains—often called intuitive psychology, intuitive physics, intuitive biology, and intuitive sociology—that develop in early childhood without explicit instruction. Our memory has likewise evolved to better recall information that mostly fits these innate ontological expectations yet contains slight violations of them (Boyer and Ramble 2001).

An equally important element is our emotion-related cognitive system, which encompasses a wide range of affective responses. This complex system, too, likely emerged through a long evolutionary process, shaping how we respond to stimuli—ritual or otherwise.

Human culture is saturated with representations that match these mental systems. What we call “religious beliefs and behaviors” succeed culturally precisely because they resonate strongly with fundamental cognitive capacities. Beliefs in supernatural agents, for instance, gain cultural traction by activating an aggregate of systems—from agent detection to social inference and memory. Similarly, rituals recognized as “religious” are found across virtually all cultures partly because they activate, with relative ease, such systems as contamination avoidance or social intuition, thus embedding themselves deeply in people’s cognitive architectures (Boyer 2001; Boyer and Liénard 2006).At first glance, such discussions within the cognitive science of religion appear most pertinent to the “oral” domain of religion. One might question whether they apply to “canonical” elements—those led by specialized religious institutions that often develop alongside literacy and occupational differentiation—such as doctrines, rules, and organizational structures. Are such formal aspects truly shaped by cognitive relevance rather than dictated by religious elites? Two points merit consideration: First, people are never as “theologically correct” as religious elites might wish. In other words, ordinary believers invariably add to or reshape orthodox doctrines by applying their own intuitive inferences. Second, despite this widespread potential for “deviation” or “apostasy”, religious communities often remain strongly cohesive because a socio-psychological system undergirds their collective emotions and actions, lending them compelling force.

From this perspective, the two lines of reasoning introduced earlier—coercing a dragon or making a sacrificial offering—both exhibit strong cognitive relevance within broader cultural schemas. Cultural schemas are shared conceptual frameworks that structure cultural knowledge and experience (Garro 2000). When combined with intuitive inference, these schemas produce compelling interpretations that demand relatively little cognitive effort.

• The Coercive Interpretation: Viewing Tiger Head Sinking as an act of provoking the dragon leverages both an intuitive understanding of animal behavior (stimulus prompts movement) and East Asian cultural schemas relating to dragons. Within these schemas, dragons and tigers are presumed to be natural antagonists, and the dragon’s movement is thought to produce rain.
• The Offering Interpretation: Viewing the ritual as an offering to a water deity draws on an intuitive model of social exchange, namely, the assumption that a social action implies both a giver and a receiver. By positing the Dragon King or Dragon God as an invisible recipient, the ritual becomes a complete social transaction. East Asian cultural schemas of ritual practice further support the idea that formalized prayers and sacrifices constitute a coherent act of devotion.

These two forms of reasoning were readily available and easily recalled within the Joseon cultural context, thus achieving a measure of cultural success. While this remains a hypothesis in need of further investigation, such a perspective helps shift our historiography of Korean religions away from purely normative interpretations that reduce ritual meanings to a single doctrinal paradigm.

4. Concluding Remarks

This study has investigated how multiple, seemingly contradictory interpretations of Tiger Head Sinking could coexist in Joseon Korea, drawing on insights from the cognitive science of religion. Several key findings emerge from this analysis:

First, although Tiger Head Sinking became part of state-sanctioned rainmaking rituals, it lacked formal theoretical principles or standardized guidelines. This absence of official doctrine, rather than constituting a weakness, opened space for multiple interpretations to arise and endure.

Second, two primary interpretations of the ritual coexisted: one viewed it as an act of coercing dragons, while another treated it as an offering to water deities. Contrary to modern scholarly perspectives that often privilege the coercive interpretation, historical evidence suggests that the people of Joseon did not adhere exclusively to either framework.

Third, adopting a cognitive science of religion perspective clarifies how these seemingly contradictory interpretations could both achieve cultural success. Both interpretations drew on intuitive inferences and cultural schemas that required minimal cognitive effort but generated significant evocative effects. The coercive view leveraged intuitions about animal behavior and the cultural motif of dragon–tiger antagonism, whereas the offering interpretation built on basic social cognition and established ritual practices.

These findings indicate that for cultural phenomena such as ritual practices, the coexistence and conflict of meanings are natural and ubiquitous (see9 Kim 2024). Consequently, scholarly efforts to privilege one historical interpretation over others may be misguided. Individuals performing rainmaking rituals did not need a normative understanding of their meaning; they could infer their own interpretations based on precedent. This insight holds important implications for the study of Korean religions at the cultural level, suggesting a shift away from definitive, singular interpretations toward recognizing the richness of multiple, concurrent meanings.

The contemporary relevance of these conclusions is evident in modern Korean society, where local communities continue to perform rainmaking rituals during drought. Although Tiger Head Sinking itself is no longer practiced, similar rituals persist—employing pig heads, dog’s blood, or other offerings submerged in water while praying for rain. As in the Joseon period, the meanings of these practices remain fluid and multiple.

In doing so, this study makes several contributions to our understanding of the history of religions in Korea. It shows that ritual practices need not be anchored in uniform doctrinal systems to achieve cultural success. More importantly, it suggests that apparent contradictions in historical religious practices may be better understood by examining the cognitive constraints that shape how people attribute meaning to rituals. While various factors contributed to the long-lasting cultural success of Tiger Head Sinking, its capacity for semantic multiplicity—backed by cognitive relevance through intuitive inferences and cultural schemas—likely played a critical role.

Future research could further examine how similar cognitive constraints have influenced other ritual practices at various historical junctures, potentially uncovering broader patterns in the generation and transmission of religious meanings—even in contemporary populations. In addition, this methodology could be extended to other historical and cultural contexts to investigate how multiple interpretations of religious practices coexist within diverse social settings.