Unlikely as it may seem, Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh and consort to the Queen, is worshipped as a cult god on the Pacific island kingdom of Vanuatu.

According to ancient legend, villagers of the Yaohnanen tribe have long believed that the pale-skinned son of a mountain spirit would one day sail across the sea in search of a powerful woman to marry. When, in 1974 the Duke arrived on the island with Queen Elizabeth he was immediately declared to be that god and so the Prince Philip Movement was born. It is active to this day.

This is a cargo cult - a religious practice following interaction with technically advanced non-native cultures. Typically, cult leaders believe that material goods (cargo) brought by foreigners are created by spiritual means. Imitating the behaviour of these wealth holders will, sooner or later, convince the islanders' spiritual agents to award this cargo to the islanders.

World War II was the period of greatest cargo cult activity. First, the Japanese and then the Allied forces airdropped huge quantities of military equipment, weapons, tinned foods and clothing onto these Pacific islands. Then, when the war ended, the airbases were abandoned, the foreign soldiers disappeared and no further cargo arrived.

However, the islanders believed that ritual and magic could get the ships and planes to land again. Carving wooden headphones, they sat in fake control towers, and stood on disused runways waving imaginary landing signals. They made radios from coconuts and built airplanes from straw. Marching up and down using sticks for rifles, they painted Western military insignia onto their bodies. And they waited...and waited, but of course no cargo ever came.

Over the last 65 years most cargo cults have died out, although one, the John Frum movement, is still active in Vanuatu. In the 1940s, when 300,000 US troops arrived, the locals were impressed by the generosity of their wealthy visitors. The result was the creation of a mythic figure, John Frum: a combination of Uncle Sam, Santa Claus and John the Baptist. He is expected to return one day, and 15 February is still rigorously celebrated as "John Frum Day".

Cargo cults might seem to be the mark of less-developed nations resisting modernity and holding on to ancient superstitions and beliefs. However, if we look a little closer we can see similar practices in the so-called developed world.

There are examples all around us. Football fans, in their team shirts, are as tribal as any Papua New Guinea village elder. Week after week they go to their stadiums, performing ritual ceremonies, chanting magic slogans and exorcising demons. Once in a lifetime, their cargo ship might come to port (their team wins the cup) but mostly it never arrives.

In democracies people cast their votes in highly stylized ceremonies. Political parties have colours, slogans (Change you can believe in!), and we vote in the same place, in the same way, year after year. The change is rarely, if ever, delivered, but we never tire of repeating the ritual.

At a higher level, the term "cargo cult" includes any poor analysis of cause and effect. In this way, Maoism was "cargo cult Marxism" while cargo cult science produces flawed results based on uncertain assumptions, with the usual goal being only that of winning more research funding.

In sport, politics, economics or science, we follow cargo cult thinking just as much as any Pacific islander. It may look different, and is expressed differently, but we are just as obsessed with rituals, and we wait just as patiently for longed-for results, which usually never arrive.

So we really shouldn't be surprised to see Prince Philip installed as a lesser pagan god on some sandy South sea island. Some of our cargo cults are just as strange...