Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 8, No. 3, 2009, Page 7
without the effort to transmute the self, his service to the purpose cannot gain power and
reach perfection. But who knows how much effort is sufficient? By what evidence is the
devotee free, saved, or enlightened? Does anyone in the group ever get to fly? Who really
benefits? Is the member a chrysalis, or merely a bug wrapped in a spider‘s cocoon? Is he
merely fodder for a predatory leader and a parasitic system?
The group may use archetypal models to encourage him. ―Jesus and Buddha sacrificed all,
even family, to serve, did they not? Jesus gave his very life. What are you doing with
yours?‖ Stories about St. Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa, and Milarepa underscore the
sacrificial life of heroes. Jesus fasted for forty days and Buddha practically starved himself to
death before they each acted on a purpose. St. Francis gave up a fortune to better serve his
divine inspiration. Milarepa worked his butt off building and rebuilding a stone house many
times for seemingly no reason to obey his Buddhist guru who promised to teach him ‗when
the student was ready.‘
The group will suggest that members can access the transpersonal and true self, perhaps
more quickly, through altered states of consciousness. Drugs or entheogens are useful for
some groups, but most never use mind-altering substances. There are better ways to
induce a sense of ecstasy. As a rule, cult members function best as deployable agents
without drug influence, whether or not the leaders find personal exceptions to this rule. The
techniques already mentioned have the secondary effect of creating intimate bonds with the
group. Ingeniously, this seemingly spontaneous satori or euphoria evokes appreciation for
and devotion to the group and leader that made it possible. Robert J. Lifton called this
mystical manipulation.
After an ecstasy (to stand outside oneself or seem out of place), the new devotee looks to
the group for interpretation and support. Most cults realize this, so they will link him with a
contact person or to the leader‘s explanation. He becomes a potential cult recruit if he has
an unsettling ecstasy independent of a group or leader. The spiritual experience may seem
to come from nowhere, or occur during an individual crisis caused by illness, environmental
catastrophe, or even incarceration. A weird epiphany can cause him to seek a system or
group for context, to help explain, contain, and sustain the experience. Without context, the
ecstasy might feel like a psychotic break.
A cult leader might suggest that the member is not insane but merely having a spiritual
emergency, a karmic cleansing, or kundalini experience. However, as with hypnotic
suggestions, any resulting insight must be reinforced or it will fade. Reinforcement requires
bonds to a sympathetic group. The group recognizes and approves the transpersonal
experience, and it offers an opportunity for a purposeful life with that experience. The new
member cannot see that he may have just followed a white rabbit down the hole into
Wonderland. Once he enters that new, mysterious world, the bonds are reinforced and even
tightened through the next three elements.
Exclusive Leadership
Charisma attends leaders whether they have one follower or millions. No person has more
or less charisma. Rather, charisma depends on a given relationship. One neurotic woman
might experience a high level of charisma with a narcissistic man whom everyone else finds
obnoxious. Ten thousand fans at a music concert might feel a charismatic attraction to one
lead singer, even as a few fans walk out in disgust. For example, Jim Morrison of The Doors
had a dark charisma when I first saw the band appear on a Philadelphia stage in 1967—or
was it 1966? The entire audience, as I recall, was transfixed, even mesmerized during the
concert. I was, too. The talented band was at the top of its game in those years.
A year or two later, I slept through an entire Doors concert. Admittedly, I was tired from
lack of sleep and no lack of wine and cannabis, but I was among thousands of cheering
without the effort to transmute the self, his service to the purpose cannot gain power and
reach perfection. But who knows how much effort is sufficient? By what evidence is the
devotee free, saved, or enlightened? Does anyone in the group ever get to fly? Who really
benefits? Is the member a chrysalis, or merely a bug wrapped in a spider‘s cocoon? Is he
merely fodder for a predatory leader and a parasitic system?
The group may use archetypal models to encourage him. ―Jesus and Buddha sacrificed all,
even family, to serve, did they not? Jesus gave his very life. What are you doing with
yours?‖ Stories about St. Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa, and Milarepa underscore the
sacrificial life of heroes. Jesus fasted for forty days and Buddha practically starved himself to
death before they each acted on a purpose. St. Francis gave up a fortune to better serve his
divine inspiration. Milarepa worked his butt off building and rebuilding a stone house many
times for seemingly no reason to obey his Buddhist guru who promised to teach him ‗when
the student was ready.‘
The group will suggest that members can access the transpersonal and true self, perhaps
more quickly, through altered states of consciousness. Drugs or entheogens are useful for
some groups, but most never use mind-altering substances. There are better ways to
induce a sense of ecstasy. As a rule, cult members function best as deployable agents
without drug influence, whether or not the leaders find personal exceptions to this rule. The
techniques already mentioned have the secondary effect of creating intimate bonds with the
group. Ingeniously, this seemingly spontaneous satori or euphoria evokes appreciation for
and devotion to the group and leader that made it possible. Robert J. Lifton called this
mystical manipulation.
After an ecstasy (to stand outside oneself or seem out of place), the new devotee looks to
the group for interpretation and support. Most cults realize this, so they will link him with a
contact person or to the leader‘s explanation. He becomes a potential cult recruit if he has
an unsettling ecstasy independent of a group or leader. The spiritual experience may seem
to come from nowhere, or occur during an individual crisis caused by illness, environmental
catastrophe, or even incarceration. A weird epiphany can cause him to seek a system or
group for context, to help explain, contain, and sustain the experience. Without context, the
ecstasy might feel like a psychotic break.
A cult leader might suggest that the member is not insane but merely having a spiritual
emergency, a karmic cleansing, or kundalini experience. However, as with hypnotic
suggestions, any resulting insight must be reinforced or it will fade. Reinforcement requires
bonds to a sympathetic group. The group recognizes and approves the transpersonal
experience, and it offers an opportunity for a purposeful life with that experience. The new
member cannot see that he may have just followed a white rabbit down the hole into
Wonderland. Once he enters that new, mysterious world, the bonds are reinforced and even
tightened through the next three elements.
Exclusive Leadership
Charisma attends leaders whether they have one follower or millions. No person has more
or less charisma. Rather, charisma depends on a given relationship. One neurotic woman
might experience a high level of charisma with a narcissistic man whom everyone else finds
obnoxious. Ten thousand fans at a music concert might feel a charismatic attraction to one
lead singer, even as a few fans walk out in disgust. For example, Jim Morrison of The Doors
had a dark charisma when I first saw the band appear on a Philadelphia stage in 1967—or
was it 1966? The entire audience, as I recall, was transfixed, even mesmerized during the
concert. I was, too. The talented band was at the top of its game in those years.
A year or two later, I slept through an entire Doors concert. Admittedly, I was tired from
lack of sleep and no lack of wine and cannabis, but I was among thousands of cheering
