Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 5, No. 2, 2006, Page 68
scientifically inclined atheist whose hallucinogenic drug experimentation opens him up to the
existence of what D. H. Lawrence called ―vast ranges of experience, like the humming of
unseen harps, we know nothing of, within us‖ (from ―Terra Incognita‖) may sneer at
Christian proselytizers but listen attentively to people advocating a mystical Buddhism or
monistic Hinduism.
The range of options to which people remain open can further narrow as a result of
pathological psychological needs for example, when ―anger issues‖ incline seekers toward
violence or paranoia concerning racial or ethnic minorities or nations. Using the
psychodynamic model alluded to earlier, one could hypothesize that such individuals, by
joining a violent group, receive not only social support for violent acts but religious meaning
and approbation, as well. For example, the Christian Identity follower can reframe beating
up ―niggers‖ from an antisocial emotional release that society frowns upon to a sacred duty
that pleases God. The Islamic terrorist who kills ―infidels‖ might employ a similar
rationalization, but one that twists the Koran instead of the Bible.
Thus, the pathway into a group that advocates a violent worldview depends upon many
variables within the person, the group, and the culture that encompasses them both. There
is no simple explanation, no ―equation,‖ that can predict who will join what violent group.
Each case must be analyzed individually and in context.
The Pathway to Violence
Luck, as noted above, may determine whether or not a seeker encounters a benign or a
destructive group. The tendency of groups to present a benign face can prevent recruits
from seeing the end of the trail, so to speak, should they join certain groups. Although
psychodynamic analyses might help explain why some individuals are especially attracted to
violent groups, there are many cases of individuals who participate in group violence even
though they have no history of violence proneness or psychological difficulty. Why, one may
ask, do not such seemingly normal persons leave when they begin to see the group for what
it is?
First of all, many people do leave, even in groups that are thought to be highly controlling.
In Barker‘s study of Moonie recruitment in England, for example, 10 percent of those who
attended an introductory Unification Church workshop ended up joining the group, while
only 50 percent of joiners were still members two years later (Barker, 1984). The loss of
new members through attrition should not surprise us, for people are very different and will
respond differently even in powerful environments. Sometimes minor events determine
whether a particular prospect leaves a group. One person who attended a Moonie workshop
in California maintains that smokers were probably less likely to move on to the next step
because they snuck out of the dormitory late at night to smoke and, in so doing, met up
with other smokers, with whom they shared their doubts about the high-pressure weekend
workshop (Dubrow-Eichel, 1989).
Commitment is not automatic, so groups must work at developing commitment among new
members, and that takes time. Zablocki says:
Moreover, the high turnover rate in cults is more complex than it may seem.
While it is true that the membership turnover is very high among recruits
and new members, this changes after two or three years of membership
when cultic commitment mechanisms begin to kick in. This transition from
high to low membership turnover is known as the Bainbridge Shift, after the
sociologist who first discovered it (Bainbridge, 1997, pp. 141-3). After about
three years of membership, the annual rate of turnover sharply declines and
begins to fit a commitment model rather than a random model. (Zablocki,
2001, p. 176)
scientifically inclined atheist whose hallucinogenic drug experimentation opens him up to the
existence of what D. H. Lawrence called ―vast ranges of experience, like the humming of
unseen harps, we know nothing of, within us‖ (from ―Terra Incognita‖) may sneer at
Christian proselytizers but listen attentively to people advocating a mystical Buddhism or
monistic Hinduism.
The range of options to which people remain open can further narrow as a result of
pathological psychological needs for example, when ―anger issues‖ incline seekers toward
violence or paranoia concerning racial or ethnic minorities or nations. Using the
psychodynamic model alluded to earlier, one could hypothesize that such individuals, by
joining a violent group, receive not only social support for violent acts but religious meaning
and approbation, as well. For example, the Christian Identity follower can reframe beating
up ―niggers‖ from an antisocial emotional release that society frowns upon to a sacred duty
that pleases God. The Islamic terrorist who kills ―infidels‖ might employ a similar
rationalization, but one that twists the Koran instead of the Bible.
Thus, the pathway into a group that advocates a violent worldview depends upon many
variables within the person, the group, and the culture that encompasses them both. There
is no simple explanation, no ―equation,‖ that can predict who will join what violent group.
Each case must be analyzed individually and in context.
The Pathway to Violence
Luck, as noted above, may determine whether or not a seeker encounters a benign or a
destructive group. The tendency of groups to present a benign face can prevent recruits
from seeing the end of the trail, so to speak, should they join certain groups. Although
psychodynamic analyses might help explain why some individuals are especially attracted to
violent groups, there are many cases of individuals who participate in group violence even
though they have no history of violence proneness or psychological difficulty. Why, one may
ask, do not such seemingly normal persons leave when they begin to see the group for what
it is?
First of all, many people do leave, even in groups that are thought to be highly controlling.
In Barker‘s study of Moonie recruitment in England, for example, 10 percent of those who
attended an introductory Unification Church workshop ended up joining the group, while
only 50 percent of joiners were still members two years later (Barker, 1984). The loss of
new members through attrition should not surprise us, for people are very different and will
respond differently even in powerful environments. Sometimes minor events determine
whether a particular prospect leaves a group. One person who attended a Moonie workshop
in California maintains that smokers were probably less likely to move on to the next step
because they snuck out of the dormitory late at night to smoke and, in so doing, met up
with other smokers, with whom they shared their doubts about the high-pressure weekend
workshop (Dubrow-Eichel, 1989).
Commitment is not automatic, so groups must work at developing commitment among new
members, and that takes time. Zablocki says:
Moreover, the high turnover rate in cults is more complex than it may seem.
While it is true that the membership turnover is very high among recruits
and new members, this changes after two or three years of membership
when cultic commitment mechanisms begin to kick in. This transition from
high to low membership turnover is known as the Bainbridge Shift, after the
sociologist who first discovered it (Bainbridge, 1997, pp. 141-3). After about
three years of membership, the annual rate of turnover sharply declines and
begins to fit a commitment model rather than a random model. (Zablocki,
2001, p. 176)
