Before you ever write or cast a spell, the first thing you need to get clear on is why you’re doing it. Most of the time, this part feels obvious—you already know what you want to change, attract, or remove. But having a clear desire doesn’t automatically mean acting on it is ethical. That’s where things start to get more complicated.
Ethics are the personal moral principles that guide how we choose to act. They shape our sense of right and wrong, and they aren’t universal. What feels ethical to one person may feel completely wrong to another. There’s often a lot of gray area, and that gray area is exactly where ethical questions tend to live.
A clear example of this can be seen in highly divisive topics like abortion. People arrive at very different conclusions based on their beliefs about autonomy, responsibility, life, and choice. Some prioritize bodily autonomy and the lived reality of the person carrying the pregnancy. Others believe life begins at conception and focus on protecting the unborn. Still others feel it isn’t their place to interfere in deeply personal decisions at all. These perspectives don’t exist because one group is inherently immoral—they exist because ethics are shaped by values, experiences, and belief systems.
I’m not here to decide which perspective is right or wrong. The point is simply this: ethics are subjective. What feels justified, necessary, or compassionate to one person may feel unethical to another. That diversity of perspective isn’t a flaw—it’s reality.
So how does this apply to spellcrafting?
This is where things like curses, hexes, and jinxes tend to come up first. They’re the most obvious ethical flashpoints. But the truth is, ethical concerns aren’t limited to so-called “dark” magic. Even spells with good intentions can cause harm if they take something away from someone else, override another person’s agency, or create consequences you haven’t fully considered.
Understanding ethics in spellcasting means learning to pause and ask deeper questions—not just what do I want, but what does this affect, who else is involved, and am I willing to accept the consequences of this working. That’s what we’ll be unpacking as we move forward.
Curses, Hexes & Jinxes
Cursing, hexing, and jinxing are often glossed over in discussions of spellcraft. When they are mentioned, it’s usually briefly and without much nuance. A large part of this comes from the influence of Wicca and its emphasis on separating so-called “white” magic from other occult and folk traditions. I’ve written more extensively about this elsewhere, particularly in the context of decolonizing witchcraft, racism, cultural appropriation, and the whitewashing of the craft, so I won’t repeat all of that here—but it’s important context.
With the rise and popularity of Wicca, the Rule of Three became a dominant ethical framework: the idea that any harm a witch causes will return to them threefold. While this concept is often applied to baneful magic, it’s worth noting that, logically, it would also apply to so-called “good” spells—something that is rarely acknowledged. Wicca’s accessibility and commercialization have shaped much of the mainstream conversation around witchcraft, even among witches who don’t identify as Wiccan.
As a result, many witches hold the belief that cursing, hexing, or jinxing is never acceptable under any circumstances. Because of this, baneful magic is frequently omitted from beginner books, websites, and forums altogether. That omission is unfortunate. Ignoring an entire facet of witchcraft limits understanding, growth, and the ability to recognize or respond to these workings when they occur.
I strongly agree with Zsuzsanna Budapest when she said, “If you cannot hex, you cannot heal. If you cannot curse, you cannot cure.” This doesn’t mean you are actively cursing people. It means that understanding baneful magic gives you the ability to recognize it, undo it, and respond appropriately. Not every harmful working can be fixed with smoke cleansing and positive thoughts. Sometimes, deeper knowledge is required.
To understand the ethics of baneful magic, we first need to clearly define the differences between jinxes, hexes, and curses.
Jinxes are the mildest of the three. Most people have probably cast one unintentionally at some point. Think about the classic childhood moment where you and a friend say the same thing at the same time and someone yells, “Jinx! You owe me a Coke!” That’s actually a form of jinxing. It’s light, temporary, and largely harmless.
Most jinxes are meant to cause inconvenience rather than real damage. They’re often reactive and a little petty—hoping someone stubs their toe, spills coffee on themselves, has a bad hair day, or steps into a puddle and spends the rest of the day with wet socks. They’re usually cast in response to irritating or unkind behavior: being cut off in traffic, having someone snatch a parking spot you were clearly waiting for, or dealing with someone who just won’t stop being unpleasant. While jinxes aren’t exactly kind, they’re short-lived and rarely life-altering.
Hexes carry more weight. They are stronger and last longer than jinxes, often continuing until the target learns a lesson or changes their behavior. This is where hexes differ from both jinxes and curses—their purpose is corrective. Hexes are commonly aimed at people who repeatedly cause harm: abusive coworkers, manipulative partners, deceitful friends, or disruptive neighbors.
Hexes are meant to disrupt patterns, dismantle harmful behavior, and force accountability. This can include mirror or return-to-sender spells, ongoing nightmare spells, hot foot work, certain banishings or bindings, and other workings that actively interfere with a person’s comfort or stability. While hexes can damage luck, relationships, or emotional wellbeing, they are cast with the intention of stopping harm—not simply inflicting it for pleasure.
Curses are the most severe form of baneful magic. They are powerful, long-lasting, and sometimes generational. Historically, curses have often been used as a last resort—particularly by marginalized communities who were denied justice, protection, or support through conventional systems.
Folklore from around the world is full of stories about witches who cursed families or individuals, often portraying the witch as cruel or monstrous. But when you look more closely, these stories frequently reveal a different truth: the witch was already an outcast, repeatedly denied help, safety, or dignity. The curse became a way to reclaim power and seek justice when no other options existed.
Curses are designed to fundamentally disrupt a person’s life. They may interfere with relationships, destroy livelihoods, rot crops, or bring sustained misfortune and suffering. Because of their intensity, curses are often reserved for extreme cases—abusers, rapists, murderers, pedophiles, animal abusers, and others who cause severe harm. Breaking a curse is difficult and often requires locating and dismantling the original working or performing prolonged, intensive rituals.
The ethical questions surrounding jinxes, hexes, and curses are complicated, and there are no universal answers. A minor jinx is often seen as ethically insignificant, especially since most people engage in mild ill-wishing when they’re angry or hurt. Hexes and curses, however, demand deeper reflection.
Hexes are meant to stop harm and enforce accountability. Curses are often used as a form of justice when justice is otherwise inaccessible. Some people see this as comparable to legal punishment or even execution for severe crimes. Others feel no level of harm is ever justified. Neither position is inherently “correct.”
What matters is intent, proportionality, and personal responsibility. Casting baneful magic out of spite, ego, or impulse—especially when the harm doesn’t warrant it—is ethically questionable. Casting it in response to sustained abuse or violence may feel justified to the practitioner. These are decisions no one else can make for you.
Before you ever write or cast your own spells, it’s important to define your personal ethical boundaries. Write them down. Keep them in your grimoire or Book of Shadows. Refer back to them when emotions run high. And if you’re unsure, don’t cast in the heat of the moment. Spellwork carries consequences, and ethics begin long before the spell is ever written.
Glitter is not gold
Now let’s talk about the spells that look completely harmless. The “good” spells. The ones people assume can’t possibly cause damage.
I hate to be the one to say it, but they can.
Here’s why: whenever you create change in your life, you’re rarely the only person standing in the ripple. Even if your intentions are pure, the outcome can still shift something away from someone else, or brush up against someone else’s needs, timing, or autonomy.
Imagine you’re trying to get access to something that’s limited. A last-minute appointment slot finally opens up, and you do a spell for the perfect opening to appear. It works — you grab the slot. Great for you. But someone else also needed that opening. Maybe they were in more pain. Maybe they’d been waiting longer. Maybe they were desperate. You didn’t harm them on purpose, but the truth is: your gain can still be someone else’s loss.
Or consider money spells. You cast for financial relief and then find cash in a parking lot. That feels like a gift, like the universe providing — but that money didn’t appear from nowhere. Someone dropped it. Someone lost it. Someone went without it. So where do we place that ethically? Is it “wrong,” or is it just life? And if it’s just life, are you still willing to accept that your spell may have consequences that aren’t as sparkling as the result looks on the surface?
These are not questions meant to shame you. They’re meant to ground you. Because spellwork isn’t only about what you want — it’s also about what your wanting touches.
Then there’s another layer: free will.
Some spells aren’t baneful, but they can still cross lines depending on how you view autonomy. Love spells are the classic example. Do you believe love spells override someone’s choice? Or do you believe they simply amplify what already exists? If you cast for someone to want you, are you nudging a door that was already cracked open — or are you trying to pry open a locked one?
And what about glamour spells? Some people see glamour as self-expression and confidence. Others see it as deception. Is it dishonest to magically enhance how you’re perceived? Or is it no different than putting on makeup, styling an outfit, or choosing how you present yourself — just approached through energy instead of aesthetics?
There’s no universal answer to these questions. But you do need your answer.
Before you go deeper into spellcrafting, I strongly encourage you to build your own ethical foundation. Decide what lines you won’t cross, and be honest about why. Decide what you consider acceptable, what you consider off-limits, and whether you believe exceptions exist.
Take time to journal it out. Don’t rush it. Write about what ethics in witchcraft mean to you. Name your values. Name what you feel is clearly wrong. Name what you feel is clearly right. Then sit with the messy in-between: the gray areas, the “it depends,” the moments where compassion and anger might both feel justified.
You may have already noticed your own opinions shifting as you read through this post. That’s a good thing. Ethics aren’t supposed to be performative. They’re supposed to be real.
Once you’ve built an ethical code you can actually stand on — not one you borrowed out of fear, and not one you chose just to sound like a “good witch” — then we can move forward into the practical work of writing and casting spells with clarity.
Because spellcrafting is powerful. And when you treat it like it matters, it actually does.