Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 8, No. 3, 2009, Page 6
Robbins, 2001) is worthwhile reading. In borrowing from the named authors, I lay no claim
to representing their ideas with mine. Each approach stands or falls on its own merits,
although all interrelate. My perspective comes from practice and direct observation more
than from any model proposed by the social science community.
With my model, I do not impugn every group that has a closed milieu but history and
experience tell me that the more closed a social system becomes, the greater the potential
for deceit and abuse of power. In concert, the four elements, or facets, noted above create
a matrix or process for some degree of potentially harmful cult activity. Each element is a
red flag, so to speak. If all four appear as described, then the red flags should be waving. If
there is harm, the degree of harm can be subjective, objective, or both. Subjective harm
includes how much an ex-member has lost in perception, perspective, and self-esteem.
Objective harm concerns loss in investments, health, relationships, education, and
employment. While some former cult members have to start over alone and broke, others
have careers and families intact. In every case, what I look for as a deprogrammer before I
deign to cut short a true believer‘s cult membership is reflected in the following model.
Although I parsed the facets or elements to four, they could easily extend to eight or
sixteen but experience with audiences has taught me to economize any definition of cult
and to elaborate from there.
Transpersonal Attraction
A person might be happy or sad, anxious or mellow. He might be seeking the truth or
seeking nothing at all. He encounters a philosophy, group, or teacher that suggests or even
confirms that his performance, self-concept, or ego needs improvement, purging, or
perhaps extinction so that he can better serve a grand purpose. The encounter unnerves
him yet makes him curious. He might experience, feel, or dream something mystical that
magnifies the transcendent encounter. He feels taken beyond his sense of identity as a
person into a transpersonal awareness.
The new path promises a way to eternal salvation, permanent health, great fortune, or
ultimate freedom. Possibilities emerge—to control sacred territory, to reduce global
warming, or to gain political protection for migrant workers. He becomes intrigued with
saving the planet from sin or karmic retribution, tapping latent powers of the mind to heal
self and others, or simply to help a personal partner to make his or her dream of any of the
above come true.
The seeker soon learns that his self-concept and achievements are not good enough. He
must change. He must transcend the limits imposed by society, religion, and family. A call
for change is always a risk, but perhaps no more a risk than a refusal to change. We all
know that, but what we know to do about it is another matter. Totalist cults seek to exploit
our confusion and ambivalence about ―what to do‖ with core insights, intriguing answers,
and promising techniques.
To achieve this new and interesting purpose, the seeker realizes that he will have to make
changes. The new system or authority figure will help him transcend limitations with a
variety of techniques that can include confession and intimate self-revelations, chanting of
prayers or mantras, transformative workshops or intensives, submission or contract
requirements, outdoor survival games, initiation rituals, ritualistic breathing, trance dancing,
fire walking, sweat lodges, secret ordeals, changes in appearance and name, and so on. The
idea here is akin to tapping the potential of the caterpillar to accomplish its transformation
into a butterfly—the process of changing from an earthbound slug to a free and heavenly
angel. But first the seeker must enter the cult‘s cocoon.
The cult member in this model is proverbially stuck in the chrysalis stage, seeking to
transcend the normal, boring, or limited self. The cult doctrine and leader will tell him that
Robbins, 2001) is worthwhile reading. In borrowing from the named authors, I lay no claim
to representing their ideas with mine. Each approach stands or falls on its own merits,
although all interrelate. My perspective comes from practice and direct observation more
than from any model proposed by the social science community.
With my model, I do not impugn every group that has a closed milieu but history and
experience tell me that the more closed a social system becomes, the greater the potential
for deceit and abuse of power. In concert, the four elements, or facets, noted above create
a matrix or process for some degree of potentially harmful cult activity. Each element is a
red flag, so to speak. If all four appear as described, then the red flags should be waving. If
there is harm, the degree of harm can be subjective, objective, or both. Subjective harm
includes how much an ex-member has lost in perception, perspective, and self-esteem.
Objective harm concerns loss in investments, health, relationships, education, and
employment. While some former cult members have to start over alone and broke, others
have careers and families intact. In every case, what I look for as a deprogrammer before I
deign to cut short a true believer‘s cult membership is reflected in the following model.
Although I parsed the facets or elements to four, they could easily extend to eight or
sixteen but experience with audiences has taught me to economize any definition of cult
and to elaborate from there.
Transpersonal Attraction
A person might be happy or sad, anxious or mellow. He might be seeking the truth or
seeking nothing at all. He encounters a philosophy, group, or teacher that suggests or even
confirms that his performance, self-concept, or ego needs improvement, purging, or
perhaps extinction so that he can better serve a grand purpose. The encounter unnerves
him yet makes him curious. He might experience, feel, or dream something mystical that
magnifies the transcendent encounter. He feels taken beyond his sense of identity as a
person into a transpersonal awareness.
The new path promises a way to eternal salvation, permanent health, great fortune, or
ultimate freedom. Possibilities emerge—to control sacred territory, to reduce global
warming, or to gain political protection for migrant workers. He becomes intrigued with
saving the planet from sin or karmic retribution, tapping latent powers of the mind to heal
self and others, or simply to help a personal partner to make his or her dream of any of the
above come true.
The seeker soon learns that his self-concept and achievements are not good enough. He
must change. He must transcend the limits imposed by society, religion, and family. A call
for change is always a risk, but perhaps no more a risk than a refusal to change. We all
know that, but what we know to do about it is another matter. Totalist cults seek to exploit
our confusion and ambivalence about ―what to do‖ with core insights, intriguing answers,
and promising techniques.
To achieve this new and interesting purpose, the seeker realizes that he will have to make
changes. The new system or authority figure will help him transcend limitations with a
variety of techniques that can include confession and intimate self-revelations, chanting of
prayers or mantras, transformative workshops or intensives, submission or contract
requirements, outdoor survival games, initiation rituals, ritualistic breathing, trance dancing,
fire walking, sweat lodges, secret ordeals, changes in appearance and name, and so on. The
idea here is akin to tapping the potential of the caterpillar to accomplish its transformation
into a butterfly—the process of changing from an earthbound slug to a free and heavenly
angel. But first the seeker must enter the cult‘s cocoon.
The cult member in this model is proverbially stuck in the chrysalis stage, seeking to
transcend the normal, boring, or limited self. The cult doctrine and leader will tell him that
