Every now and then, someone asks me why the world still needs wizards. They usually say it with a half-smile, like they’re joking, but there’s always something else behind it—curiosity, hunger, maybe even a quiet exhaustion. People don’t ask for wizards unless they feel something is missing.

And something is missing.
For all our modern brilliance—the satellites, the supercomputers, the endless rivers of information pouring through every device—we’ve never been more confused about who we are or where we’re going. We’re drowning in data, yet starving for wisdom. It’s a funny little paradox: the smarter our tools get, the less grounded we seem to feel.

That’s where wizards come in.

Not the fiction-shelf kind, though I appreciate their dramatic flair. I mean the ancient kind, the human kind—the ones whose job was never about shooting fire from their hands, but helping people understand the fire already burning inside them. A true wizard has always been less about magic and more about meaning. They’re the person who notices the pattern everyone else overlooked. The one who can sit with a cup of tea and read the subtle currents moving beneath the chaos of a day. The one who can remind you, gently, that you already know the answer to the question you’re pretending not to ask.

And throughout history, people in power have always had someone like that nearby—even if they didn’t call them a wizard. Merlin stood beside Arthur as a guide toward unity and decency. Rasputin stood beside the Romanovs as… well, a cautionary tale. Wisdom and power have always danced closely, and depending on who’s leading, the dance can be beautiful or disastrous. A wizard’s presence in the room doesn’t guarantee righteousness—but it does reveal something important: leaders have always needed someone who sees deeper than strategy, deeper than politics, deeper than the surface noise of the moment.

That’s because every society, no matter how modern, eventually wanders into a fog it can’t navigate with charts alone.

Today’s fog just looks different.

Instead of plagues and prophecies, we have algorithms shaping our beliefs, economies shifting under our feet, and a nonstop feed of outrage that leaves people spiritually threadbare. We’re living through a time where burnout has become an identity, where honesty feels rare, and where most people have forgotten how to hear their own intuition over the hum of everything demanding their attention.

In times like these, a wizard isn’t a luxury.
They’re a necessity.

A wizard is the person who can stand between worlds—ancient and digital, mystical and scientific—and translate one into the other. They can remind you that your nervous system existed long before your smartphone, that your instincts are older than your fears, and that your values matter more than whatever today’s algorithm wants you to think.

They’re the friend who says, “Slow down. Look again.”
They’re the mentor who notices the thing you’ve been ignoring.
They’re the grounded voice that cuts through the noise and says, “You’re not broken. You’re just overwhelmed.”

Wizards don’t live in towers anymore. They live in neighborhoods, workplaces, coffee shops. You’ve probably met a few without realizing it—the kind, observant ones people naturally open up to, the ones who can hold a paradox without trying to kill it, the ones who mix science and spirituality like two ingredients of the same medicine.

The world needs more of those people.
More pattern-readers.
More quiet guides.
More humans who’ve spent time understanding themselves deeply enough to help others do the same.

Not to rule.
Not to preach.
But to serve.

And maybe this is the real heart of it: people don’t need wizards because the world is magical.
People need wizards because the world is human—and sometimes painfully so.
We lose our way. We forget who we are. We get scared, distracted, divided, pulled apart.

A wizard simply helps us remember.

So if you’ve ever felt like the odd one, the observer, the quiet thinker, the person everyone seeks out in their hardest moments… don’t be surprised. You might already be walking that path without realizing it.

And if you are?
Good.
We need you.

Whether the world admits it or not, the age of wizards isn’t behind us.

It’s right now.

— Daniel MacBayne