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easy for a victim of abuse to remain silent, rather than deal with the shaming, blaming and
doubting that often greets them when they find the courage to make public their abuse. The
Cult Clinic of the Jewish Board of Family and Children‘s Services in New York helped counsel
traumatized members who left the group, and helped divorced spouses and family members
of Sullivanian patients organize support groups. Beyond that, the professional mental health
community was silent. The absence of any serious psychoanalytic writing on the Sullivanians
suggests that there has been a dismissal, a turning away from the stories these former
members tell. It may be that, for the psychoanalytic community, for those who knew what
was happening, it was easier to minimize, doubt and dismiss the testimony of the members
of the group than it would have been to confront and acknowledge how seriously deranged
Pearce, Newton and Harvey, and their trainees, actually became. Pearce was, after all, a
highly respected student of H. S. Sullivan‘s before she severed her ties to the White
Institute. While sexual violations in psychotherapy have been well studied by
psychoanalysts (e.g., Celenza, 1995 Celenza and Gabbard, 2003), therapy cults have not.
Perhaps the concreteness of sexual violation makes it easier to grasp and repudiate than
the dynamics of sadistic control and domination between therapist and patient, which can
be enacted more subtly and be therefore less obviously transgressive.
In considering the Sullivanians, it may be tempting for us to focus on the analysis of the
pathology of the followers, whom we might identify as the patient in this kind of story.
While further study in this area would certainly be beneficial (see Shaw, 2003), we should
not allow a focus on pathology in followers to obscure the more pressing issue for our
profession: to understand the psychology of the therapist who exerts abusive, totalitarian
control over a patient, or a group of patients. I present the following as an initial foray into
this area, in the hope of generating further interest in this subject.
Siskind quotes accounts from former followers of Newton and Harvey indicating they lived in
constant fear that the psychological illness diagnosed by their therapists would never end
unless they gave themselves over completely and allowed their therapists total control of
their lives. Why would a therapist need or want to put a patient in this position? Although
Siskind provides a sociological perspective on the Sullivanians, I believe this book can be
particularly valuable for the psychoanalytic profession as a resource for the study of the
destructive effects of pathological narcissism in our work, which is the lens through which I
think these issues can best be perceived and comprehended. Based on theoretical
formulations from my own work over the last ten years with former members of cultic
groups, including the study of cult leaders (Shaw, 2003), I have suggested that malignant
narcissists who promote a cult around themselves succeed in enslaving their followers
through seduction, intimidation, and humiliation. Their narcissism compels them to deny
and expel their own self-loathing, fear and shame, which is the result of their own traumatic
upbringing. They typically rewrite their histories, creating heroic, triumphant pasts,
reversing the impotence and humiliation they actually experienced. Desperate to evacuate
his shame, the malignant narcissist contrives to elicit and reinforce self-loathing, fear, and
shame in another, or many others, thereby ―passing the hot potato,‖ insuring that these
despicable defects and weaknesses are located and kept under control in an external other.
The narcissist then obsessively corrects and punishes the other as a means of assuring
himself that the shameful defects are taken on by the other, and thereby kept externalized.
For the malignant narcissist to claim these defects as his own would mean unbearable
mortification, which must be avoided at any cost. By making followers highly anxious about
their status at all times, the narcissistic group leader is able to keep them dependent and
afraid to leave. The followers accept endless shaming, belittling, intimidation, and
scapegoating as the price of remaining in the leader‘s good graces on the road to
purification and enlightenment. In so doing, the leader effectively conceals, as Elaine May
was unable to do in the comedy sketch, the desperation and shame connected to his own
underlying pathological dependency. Instead of conveying the message of May‘s analyst to
Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 5, No. 2, 2006, Page 103
their patients—―don‘t leave me, or I‘ll die‖ —Sullivanian therapists, in a manic reversal,
literally said, ―Don‘t leave me, or you’ll die.‖ Thus, Sullivanian/Fourth Wall followers were
repeatedly bullied into believing their only hope for redemption was to allow therapists to
control them completely, and therapists were able to sadistically leverage their power,
keeping patients tied to them at the juncture where madness and evil intersect. The cruel
therapy practiced in the Sullivanian/Fourth Wall community amounted to nothing less than
mental torture.
The malignant narcissist‘s project of domination and control often begins with fervor and
idealism, but degenerates because of the narcissist‘s instability. Soon, the narcissist‘s
perpetration of cruelty on others is justified as the necessary means to what he defines as a
righteous end. Pathological narcissists create totalitarian systems in which their fear, rage,
and hate, defended against with delusional omnipotence, merge to shape a contemptuous
agenda to enslave and control others, a project they passionately defend as morally
justified, for the good of the other. The narcissist is convinced that his selfish, cruel agenda
is in fact a generous, compassionate offer of enlightenment and liberation, conducted under
his superior auspices for the benefit of the rest of the inferior world. With malignant
narcissism, all is self-righteousness and sanctimony, but nothing is sacred, no boundaries
are respected.ii
The story of the Sullivanians, shameful as it may be, is a story that all of us interested in
the postmodern problematization of the analyst‘s influence and authority should know. But
our interest should not be merely academic. We psychoanalysts once believed that our
theories could have a powerful effect on society, and during the time of Erich Fromm and
Erik Erikson, that was the case. The Sullivanian project was one of the last gasps of that
hope. The scope of our professional aims seems to have become a great deal more modest,
a trend directly influenced by the crash-and-burn grandiosity and destructiveness of groups
like the Sullivanians and other self-realization cults of the 70s. It may be that the most
valuable knowledge we as a profession can offer the world at this point is our understanding
of the malignant narcissist. Perhaps such people would not be granted so much power if
malignant narcissism were better understood. Of course, we can only bring this information
to others to the extent that we understand it ourselves, and we can start by acknowledging
and understanding its existence within our own profession.
Siskind‘s history of the Sullivanians might be a useful starting point, but the opportunity for
psychoanalytic historians to analyze and study what went wrong remains wide open. It is
my hope that the whole story, told by those still left within our profession who were there
and who know what happened, and by more former patients willing to speak out about their
experience, can be told. The extreme of malignant narcissistic pathology in therapists may
seem far from the experience of most of us, but I believe it takes a great deal of
consciousness and vigilance to do good enough psychoanalytic work that is free enough
from the destructive potentials of our narcissism. Whether we realize it or not, much of our
therapeutic effort takes place on the proverbial razor‘s edge.iii Knowing more about the
Sullivanians could, at the very least, help remind us just how thin the line between influence
and domination, surrender and submission, can be.
Siskind is to be thanked for using her experience of being raised in this group, and all that
she has learned from leaving it, to bring thoughtful and thorough scholarship to bear on the
history of the Sullivanians. Though not intended specifically for this purpose, Siskind‘s study
will be instructive to all of us who seek, not naïvely, but with eyes wide open, to preserve,
nurture, and grow that which we believe to be good and true in psychoanalytic theory and
practice.
Endnotes
[i] See Lifton (1999) for an excellent account of the Japanese apocalyptic group, Aum Shinrikyo.
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