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.
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.
