International Journal of Cultic Studies ■ Vol. 9, 2018 75
approach allowed the targeted cult member to
refuse to talk and to leave the intervention at any
time. Ross claimed that Patrick laid the
foundation for what later became the
noncoercive model. Other peers were consulted
for the film, including David Clark and Steve
Hassan, who appear only in credits at the end.
I was not among those consulted, but had I been,
I would argue that the so-called exit-counseling
model existed long before some deprogrammers,
including Patrick and Galen Kelly (not
mentioned in the film) employed kidnapping in
the early 1970s. Exit counseling is little more
than offering information to a cult member that
can help the member make a decision to stay or
leave. The process can take hours or days of
voluntary discussion.
For instance, uncounted thousands in the late
sixties entered and defected from cults, either on
their own or through contact with former
members, concerned families, and ministers.
Barker (1984) found that the vast majority of
Unification Church converts (Moonies) left the
organization without any formal intervention
within one or two years of joining. Others might
take several years, even decades, before they
defect. Some die as believers. Being under a
spell or brainwashed is never a fixed state—that
is not how the human brain works. Of course,
there are exceptions, with some people
stubbornly holding onto a conversion no matter
what. The clear majority of my many hundreds
of interventions over the years were done
through an educational model and without
coercion. That model was uniquely defined by
Steve Hassan with the publication of
Combatting Cult Mind Control (1988), but I was
already convincing cult members to defect at the
end of 1980 without coercion, and I was not
using any published model. I did not know who
Ted Patrick was at the time.
The purpose of this film was quite simple. It
concentrated on the legacy of Ted Patrick. As I
mentioned previously, the filmmaker’s
stepbrother Matthew was the spark that brought
Donovan into this project. She had not seen him
in 20 years, until she learned of her father hiring
Patrick in the mid-1990s to deprogram Matthew
out of what appeared to be a devotion to
Satanism. As a youth, Matthew, a heavily
tattooed man who employs the F-word liberally,
was troubled, rebellious, into heavy-metal
music, and most likely suffered from social
anxiety and other disorders that were never
properly diagnosed or treated. As we learn in the
film, Matthew’s allusions to Satan were more
for effect than devotion (there was no cult), so
Patrick’s kidnap technique was totally
misguided and essentially failed after 8 days of
verbal and emotional assault on the young rebel.
If we believe Matthew decades later, the
intervention may have done only harm.
In sum, the film was much better than I
envisioned it might be. It captures a unique era
of the so-called cult wars when America was
more concerned over bourgeoning new religious
movements and therapies. The movements have
not all gone away, and new, radical ones
continue to emerge. If nothing else, Ted Patrick
helped to bring attention to a serious problem,
despite his not coming up with the best or legal
solutions. The film reminds us that the problem
is complex, as any solution also might be. The
film captures a unique aspect in the history of
social reaction to radical new movements, but it
falls short in not describing an educational
model for cult intervention.
Reference
Barker, E. (1984). The making of a Moonie. New York, NY: Basil
Blackwell.
About the Reviewer
Joseph Szimhart began research into cultic
influence in 1980 and began to work
professionally as an intervention specialist and
exit counselor in 1986. Since 1998 he has
worked in the crisis department of a psychiatric
emergency hospital in Pennsylvania. He
continues to assist families with interventions
and former members in recovery. In 2016 he
received an ICSA Lifetime Achievement Award.
approach allowed the targeted cult member to
refuse to talk and to leave the intervention at any
time. Ross claimed that Patrick laid the
foundation for what later became the
noncoercive model. Other peers were consulted
for the film, including David Clark and Steve
Hassan, who appear only in credits at the end.
I was not among those consulted, but had I been,
I would argue that the so-called exit-counseling
model existed long before some deprogrammers,
including Patrick and Galen Kelly (not
mentioned in the film) employed kidnapping in
the early 1970s. Exit counseling is little more
than offering information to a cult member that
can help the member make a decision to stay or
leave. The process can take hours or days of
voluntary discussion.
For instance, uncounted thousands in the late
sixties entered and defected from cults, either on
their own or through contact with former
members, concerned families, and ministers.
Barker (1984) found that the vast majority of
Unification Church converts (Moonies) left the
organization without any formal intervention
within one or two years of joining. Others might
take several years, even decades, before they
defect. Some die as believers. Being under a
spell or brainwashed is never a fixed state—that
is not how the human brain works. Of course,
there are exceptions, with some people
stubbornly holding onto a conversion no matter
what. The clear majority of my many hundreds
of interventions over the years were done
through an educational model and without
coercion. That model was uniquely defined by
Steve Hassan with the publication of
Combatting Cult Mind Control (1988), but I was
already convincing cult members to defect at the
end of 1980 without coercion, and I was not
using any published model. I did not know who
Ted Patrick was at the time.
The purpose of this film was quite simple. It
concentrated on the legacy of Ted Patrick. As I
mentioned previously, the filmmaker’s
stepbrother Matthew was the spark that brought
Donovan into this project. She had not seen him
in 20 years, until she learned of her father hiring
Patrick in the mid-1990s to deprogram Matthew
out of what appeared to be a devotion to
Satanism. As a youth, Matthew, a heavily
tattooed man who employs the F-word liberally,
was troubled, rebellious, into heavy-metal
music, and most likely suffered from social
anxiety and other disorders that were never
properly diagnosed or treated. As we learn in the
film, Matthew’s allusions to Satan were more
for effect than devotion (there was no cult), so
Patrick’s kidnap technique was totally
misguided and essentially failed after 8 days of
verbal and emotional assault on the young rebel.
If we believe Matthew decades later, the
intervention may have done only harm.
In sum, the film was much better than I
envisioned it might be. It captures a unique era
of the so-called cult wars when America was
more concerned over bourgeoning new religious
movements and therapies. The movements have
not all gone away, and new, radical ones
continue to emerge. If nothing else, Ted Patrick
helped to bring attention to a serious problem,
despite his not coming up with the best or legal
solutions. The film reminds us that the problem
is complex, as any solution also might be. The
film captures a unique aspect in the history of
social reaction to radical new movements, but it
falls short in not describing an educational
model for cult intervention.
Reference
Barker, E. (1984). The making of a Moonie. New York, NY: Basil
Blackwell.
About the Reviewer
Joseph Szimhart began research into cultic
influence in 1980 and began to work
professionally as an intervention specialist and
exit counselor in 1986. Since 1998 he has
worked in the crisis department of a psychiatric
emergency hospital in Pennsylvania. He
continues to assist families with interventions
and former members in recovery. In 2016 he
received an ICSA Lifetime Achievement Award.
