Of the many things millennials are blamed for — trigger warnings, micro-aggressions, safe spaces, and the so-called “Coddling of the American Mind” — comes a natural outgrowth: a major resurgence in astrology.

The NYC-based astrology company Co-Star, which sends daily push notifications to its 3 million subscribers, raised $5 million in seed money last month. Four books on the subject — guides for a general audience — were sold to book publishers in 2017.

In her new No. 1 bestselling book “Next Level Basic,” millennial Stassi Schroeder of “Vanderpump Rules” dedicates an entire chapter to astrology. Most every major site geared toward young people, from Bustle to The Cut to Vice — which just launched its own astrology app — has a horoscope section. And a recent New York Post feature listed “the wrong astrological sign” as a top dating deal-breaker for millennials.

Most alarming? According to a 2012 study by the National Science Foundation, 58 percent of 18- to 24-year-olds think astrology is based in science.

Not since the ’60s and ’70s has believing in sun signs been so chic. Susan Miller, Manhattan’s grande dame of astrology, has a theory.

“Millennials are pouring out of college after the recession, and nothing their parents told them came to pass,” she tells The Post. Astrology gives them hope, a soft cushion, the reassurance it will all work out. Among astrologers, Miller’s work may be the most unrelentingly optimistic.

She too has an app: Astrology Zone, an outgrowth of her website of the same name. She says Google analytics reports 311 million page views a year, and claims fandom in three huge sectors — media, fashion and tech. She flies to LA often for events and speaking gigs, and in June is hosting a “week-long residency” at a luxury hotel in Crete, with hour-long private consults priced at $368.

Miller does not brook skeptics — not even astronomer Neil deGrasse Tyson. “The underpinning” of astrology, she insists, “is math.” Her calling is to help each of her followers reach their greatest potential.

“There will never be another you,” she says. “That means that the special perspective you have when you were born — that’s valuable, because that’s going to bring change and progress.”

By that ostensible logic, everyone on the planet would be gifted, smart and special, a prime mover acting only for good.

But you can see why this notion resonates among millennials. They are the first generation to grow up with the internet, to have their narcissistic urges stoked by social media, to avert boredom or solitary thought by flicking on a mobile device. They are the first to pathologize natural maturation as trauma they call “adulting.”

In a piece that went viral last January, BuzzFeed writer Anne Helen Peterson wrote of millennials as “the burnout generation,” one so overloaded by stress and “errand paralysis” that simple tasks, from voting to opening mail, are deferred for years.

Perhaps most tellingly, a 2014 Pew Research poll reported 49 percent of athiests are millennials.

How to square that circle — there’s no scientific proof for God or astrology, but given the choice, let’s believe in the latter? It’s anecdotal, but many millennial adherents will say they don’t really believe in it. They just use it as a guide, a narrative framework for the unpredictability of life.

If that sounds harmless enough, keep this in mind: Astrology is now part of a $2.2 billion industry known as the “mystical services market.” It’s got the next generation convinced, to some degree, of its scientific validity. And it allows for a kind of mystical thinking that goes against the American DNA, our core belief that strength — intellectual, psychological, physical — hard work, and a striving for moral right lead to success, individually and collectively.

Plus it just makes life less interesting. As Carl Sagan once asked: “If our lives are controlled by traffic signals in the sky, why try to change anything?”