Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 5, No. 2, 2006, Page 96
Book Reviews
Help At Any Cost
Maia Szalavitz, New York: Riverhead Books, 2006. ISBN 1594489106 (hardcover),
$16.35. 326 pages with one appendix
There is a strong tendency for each older generation to look back at its own adolescence
with a mixture of nostalgia and embarrassment, and at each new generation of teens with a
combination of fear, disdain and jealousy. Whether we consider the flappers of the 1920s,
the beats, protesters and hippies of the ‗50s and ‗60s, the punks and stoners of the ‗70s
and ‗80s, or the slackers of the ‗90s, every generation‘s parents insist they have the most
ill-mannered, lazy, rebellious, promiscuous, drunken or drug-ridden teenagers ever. And as
surely as these teens grow up and have children, they invariably give rise to the next really
worst crop of teens, who grow up and birth the truly worst teenagers, and on and on. Just
as every new century heralds the apocalypse, every fresh crop of teenagers serves as the
harbingers of the fall of Western civilization.
The 1980s saw a dramatic shift in the American zeitgeist. Former hippies and radicals were
clamoring to join the same middle class they once abhorred. Having lost faith in big federal
social programs, government bureaucracies, and "bleeding heart" psychotherapies, they
seemed to welcome an invigorated free market that moved quickly to satisfy their
increasing need for quick answers and strong responses to difficult social and family
problems like sexual experimentation and drug abuse. If the first half of the 20th century
had its juvenile courts, social workers, and Boys Towns, the second half, and especially the
last quarter, would have its own set of ―cures‖ for the common teenager: the ―therapeutic‖
boot camp and wilderness programs. These programs claimed nearly miraculous
effectiveness with the most difficult and destructive adolescent behaviors. By mixing
techniques liberally taken from the human-potential movement with old fashioned ―tough
love,‖ they appealed to a generation of parents that came of age in the ‗60s but were no
longer enamored with free love, mind-expanding drugs, or permissive parenting.
Help at Any Cost provides a much-needed and, at times, scathing indictment of the
troubled-teen industry (TTI) that grew out of this need. While not a cultic study per se,
Szalavitz‘s work nevertheless delineates distinctly cult-like processes.
Szalavitz uses a journalistic approach to her material. The book begins with well-
documented individual stories of families subjected to a high-intensity sales pitch and
convinced of the immediate necessity of sending their children to residential ―boot camps‖
and wilderness programs. After the parents agree to enroll their children (usually at
considerable cost), the teens are taken to their programs by physically intimidating
―escorts,‖ who sometimes surprise them in the middle of the night to avoid resistance. The
programs then use extreme tactics, including forced marches and prolonged food and sleep
deprivation, to shock and induce their clients into giving up destructive behaviors. Staffed
by grossly undertrained and nonprofessional staff, and devoid of any ongoing medical
supervision, these camps abuse the adolescents in the name of ―treatment‖ while their
programs seem primarily interested in generating more business and increasing profits.
Szalavitz has done her homework well, especially in those sections in which she traces the
roots of the troubled-teen industry to Synanon, the ―tough love‖ movement, and large-
group awareness-training (LGAT) programs such as est and Lifespring. Early TTI programs
such as The Seed and Straight Incorporated are discussed in enough detail to give most
readers a good picture of their modus operandi. Szalavitz does not discuss these programs‘
philosophical or methodological connections to Dianetics and the Church of Scientology,
even though Scientology was a strong influence on the creators of both est and Lifespring.
Book Reviews
Help At Any Cost
Maia Szalavitz, New York: Riverhead Books, 2006. ISBN 1594489106 (hardcover),
$16.35. 326 pages with one appendix
There is a strong tendency for each older generation to look back at its own adolescence
with a mixture of nostalgia and embarrassment, and at each new generation of teens with a
combination of fear, disdain and jealousy. Whether we consider the flappers of the 1920s,
the beats, protesters and hippies of the ‗50s and ‗60s, the punks and stoners of the ‗70s
and ‗80s, or the slackers of the ‗90s, every generation‘s parents insist they have the most
ill-mannered, lazy, rebellious, promiscuous, drunken or drug-ridden teenagers ever. And as
surely as these teens grow up and have children, they invariably give rise to the next really
worst crop of teens, who grow up and birth the truly worst teenagers, and on and on. Just
as every new century heralds the apocalypse, every fresh crop of teenagers serves as the
harbingers of the fall of Western civilization.
The 1980s saw a dramatic shift in the American zeitgeist. Former hippies and radicals were
clamoring to join the same middle class they once abhorred. Having lost faith in big federal
social programs, government bureaucracies, and "bleeding heart" psychotherapies, they
seemed to welcome an invigorated free market that moved quickly to satisfy their
increasing need for quick answers and strong responses to difficult social and family
problems like sexual experimentation and drug abuse. If the first half of the 20th century
had its juvenile courts, social workers, and Boys Towns, the second half, and especially the
last quarter, would have its own set of ―cures‖ for the common teenager: the ―therapeutic‖
boot camp and wilderness programs. These programs claimed nearly miraculous
effectiveness with the most difficult and destructive adolescent behaviors. By mixing
techniques liberally taken from the human-potential movement with old fashioned ―tough
love,‖ they appealed to a generation of parents that came of age in the ‗60s but were no
longer enamored with free love, mind-expanding drugs, or permissive parenting.
Help at Any Cost provides a much-needed and, at times, scathing indictment of the
troubled-teen industry (TTI) that grew out of this need. While not a cultic study per se,
Szalavitz‘s work nevertheless delineates distinctly cult-like processes.
Szalavitz uses a journalistic approach to her material. The book begins with well-
documented individual stories of families subjected to a high-intensity sales pitch and
convinced of the immediate necessity of sending their children to residential ―boot camps‖
and wilderness programs. After the parents agree to enroll their children (usually at
considerable cost), the teens are taken to their programs by physically intimidating
―escorts,‖ who sometimes surprise them in the middle of the night to avoid resistance. The
programs then use extreme tactics, including forced marches and prolonged food and sleep
deprivation, to shock and induce their clients into giving up destructive behaviors. Staffed
by grossly undertrained and nonprofessional staff, and devoid of any ongoing medical
supervision, these camps abuse the adolescents in the name of ―treatment‖ while their
programs seem primarily interested in generating more business and increasing profits.
Szalavitz has done her homework well, especially in those sections in which she traces the
roots of the troubled-teen industry to Synanon, the ―tough love‖ movement, and large-
group awareness-training (LGAT) programs such as est and Lifespring. Early TTI programs
such as The Seed and Straight Incorporated are discussed in enough detail to give most
readers a good picture of their modus operandi. Szalavitz does not discuss these programs‘
philosophical or methodological connections to Dianetics and the Church of Scientology,
even though Scientology was a strong influence on the creators of both est and Lifespring.
