Cultic Studies Journal, Vol. 3, No. 2, 1986 Page 4
descriptions, including moral, esthetic, and holistic. Within the social sciences, the latter
view of culture as a complex whole has predominated, although not without debate about
its precise nature. In the final analysis, Williams seems to be saying that everyone agrees
that .culture‘ means something, but nobody has been able to come up with a meaning
agreeable to all.
As a psychologist I am reminded of similarly inconclusive debates on the nature of
personality, particularly if one accents the ―person‖ part of ―personality.‖ That the
association should come to mind is not surprising. After all, persons create cultures and
cultures shape persons. The two are inextricably linked and, perhaps, cannot be properly
understood in isolation.
Many of us who have worked clinically with cultists vividly see the link between culture and
personality. Some extremist cults are essentially alien cultures in our midst, cultures that
have the power to reshape personalities. My psychiatrist colleague, Dr. John Clark, one of
the first clinicians to speak out about cult abuses, calls the phenomenon an ―impermissible
experiment,‖ an experiment in the remaking of personality which no ethical researcher
would conduct.
As clinical observers, we are both intrigued and repelled by the results of this impermissible
experiment. Our scholarly curiosity is piqued, for in everyday clinical practice one does not
often encounter seemingly normal, lively, Phi Beta Kappa students who change -sometimes
within a matter of weeks -into passive, cliché-speaking dropouts, wandering through a
strange city collecting money for Father, or Reverend Holy, or Guru Om. Yet, being
ourselves a product of a culture that considers some ―experiments‖ impermissible, we
cannot help but have visceral reactions to the fascinating phenomena we observe and are
called upon to remedy.
During reflective moments, this double role of observer-helper has motivated me to try to
understand better the culture in which I am immersed and which I am ―credentialed‖ to
affirm. This does not mean that I see myself as a protector of the status quo. On the
contrary, my social gripe list is as long as anyone‘s. Nevertheless, I do see Man as a social
creature who either adapts to his culture of birth or -with very few, if any, exceptions -
suffers. My job is to help people adapt -each in his or her own unique way.
Because this job cannot be performed from a value-free perspective, understanding how
one‘s own values manifest in clinical situations is a critical component of a mental health
professional‘s training. Understanding what these often unarticulated values are becomes
especially important in working with cultists and their families. In most cases, cultists‘
values are fundamentally different from those of their families and of clinicians, who, if they
are to maintain their ethical bearings, must not automatically assume that values espoused
by cultists are necessarily maladaptive. It is possible to adapt to a culture that labels one
deviant On the other hand, clinicians should be careful not to fall into a naive ―what‘s-true-
for-you-is-true-for-you-and-what‘s-true-for-me-is-true-for-me‖ mentality, which assumes
that all approaches to life are equally valid, true, effective, adaptive, or what have you.
This extreme form of relativism despite the din of its proponents, is not the philosophical
basis of American culture. As an intact individual cannot exist without a core system of
beliefs and values (a ―private logic‖ in Alfred Adler‘s terms), a viable culture cannot exist
without core values and assumptions. A relativistic perspective may have utility as a device
for holding on to one‘s scholarly objectivity. But it cannot sustain a culture. And because it
tends to become an ideological prejudice (Williams, 1967, p. 275), it probably is not even a
very effective device for maintaining objectivity, much as ―value-free‖ counseling has been
found to be an illusion.
Hence, I make no apologies for evaluating cults in terms of fundamental American cultural
descriptions, including moral, esthetic, and holistic. Within the social sciences, the latter
view of culture as a complex whole has predominated, although not without debate about
its precise nature. In the final analysis, Williams seems to be saying that everyone agrees
that .culture‘ means something, but nobody has been able to come up with a meaning
agreeable to all.
As a psychologist I am reminded of similarly inconclusive debates on the nature of
personality, particularly if one accents the ―person‖ part of ―personality.‖ That the
association should come to mind is not surprising. After all, persons create cultures and
cultures shape persons. The two are inextricably linked and, perhaps, cannot be properly
understood in isolation.
Many of us who have worked clinically with cultists vividly see the link between culture and
personality. Some extremist cults are essentially alien cultures in our midst, cultures that
have the power to reshape personalities. My psychiatrist colleague, Dr. John Clark, one of
the first clinicians to speak out about cult abuses, calls the phenomenon an ―impermissible
experiment,‖ an experiment in the remaking of personality which no ethical researcher
would conduct.
As clinical observers, we are both intrigued and repelled by the results of this impermissible
experiment. Our scholarly curiosity is piqued, for in everyday clinical practice one does not
often encounter seemingly normal, lively, Phi Beta Kappa students who change -sometimes
within a matter of weeks -into passive, cliché-speaking dropouts, wandering through a
strange city collecting money for Father, or Reverend Holy, or Guru Om. Yet, being
ourselves a product of a culture that considers some ―experiments‖ impermissible, we
cannot help but have visceral reactions to the fascinating phenomena we observe and are
called upon to remedy.
During reflective moments, this double role of observer-helper has motivated me to try to
understand better the culture in which I am immersed and which I am ―credentialed‖ to
affirm. This does not mean that I see myself as a protector of the status quo. On the
contrary, my social gripe list is as long as anyone‘s. Nevertheless, I do see Man as a social
creature who either adapts to his culture of birth or -with very few, if any, exceptions -
suffers. My job is to help people adapt -each in his or her own unique way.
Because this job cannot be performed from a value-free perspective, understanding how
one‘s own values manifest in clinical situations is a critical component of a mental health
professional‘s training. Understanding what these often unarticulated values are becomes
especially important in working with cultists and their families. In most cases, cultists‘
values are fundamentally different from those of their families and of clinicians, who, if they
are to maintain their ethical bearings, must not automatically assume that values espoused
by cultists are necessarily maladaptive. It is possible to adapt to a culture that labels one
deviant On the other hand, clinicians should be careful not to fall into a naive ―what‘s-true-
for-you-is-true-for-you-and-what‘s-true-for-me-is-true-for-me‖ mentality, which assumes
that all approaches to life are equally valid, true, effective, adaptive, or what have you.
This extreme form of relativism despite the din of its proponents, is not the philosophical
basis of American culture. As an intact individual cannot exist without a core system of
beliefs and values (a ―private logic‖ in Alfred Adler‘s terms), a viable culture cannot exist
without core values and assumptions. A relativistic perspective may have utility as a device
for holding on to one‘s scholarly objectivity. But it cannot sustain a culture. And because it
tends to become an ideological prejudice (Williams, 1967, p. 275), it probably is not even a
very effective device for maintaining objectivity, much as ―value-free‖ counseling has been
found to be an illusion.
Hence, I make no apologies for evaluating cults in terms of fundamental American cultural
