10 ICSA TODAY
the same in the years to come. We were now building a
social experiment, with volunteers performing all the work.
To the best of my knowledge, not even Vieira profited
from the organization—and I say that as a former financial
director there. We had our own jobs, and its paid courses and
publications maintained the organization. But the group also
had other ideas, such as real estate. The institution purchased
large pieces of land nearby and divided them into lots to be
sold at a fair price. The market value was going up. For a few
years that was a profitable business for both volunteers and the
institution.
Adding to the fact that Iguassu was a new city to all of us, we
ended up having Conscientiologists as our only social group.
They became our neighbors friends for leisure activities family
for sharing intimate questions, dates, and spouses and our
professional network and business partners. This scenario all
emerged naturally from the circumstances. Nothing had to be
dictated or imposed.
As volunteers, we began to realize that conventional science
and society were not suitable to us. Consider dating, for
example. Instead of interacting with different people, we
tended to date members, because nonmembers would
get tired of our busy nights and weekends at a paranormal
organization. They did not understand our conversation.
They wanted leisure activities instead of Consciential self-
assessments and even in a large city, our dating options
became reduced to very few people. The same happened with
our friendships and leisure options. But under the group’s
influence, we probably did not see these things as a barrier to
being integrated into society. On the contrary, we might feel
as though we did have options, whereas society offered only
chaos.
The result of such an arrangement is that all of everyone’s life
ends up under the spotlight of Conscientiologists. Members
change their entire life for the cause, often at the cost of their
family, educational, social, or professional bonds. All pay a
price to start a new life in a new city, to be among people who
think alike but are also strangers. Returning to their previous
homes would not be so easy, so they remain committed to the
conviction that the cause is worth the sacrifice.
Further, this arrangement means that Conscientiologists living
in a community become very zealous. They want your help
but worry too much about whatever they think can harm the
institutional image. Members come under the unplanned and
unintentional surveillance of their colleagues, not only within
the organizational boundaries, but anywhere. Everyone’s lives
are subject to discussion, judgment, and pressures according
to the organization’s interests.
As a result, members accept that each other represents
Conscientiology 24/7. The organization ends up discussing
how members should behave in their professional
environments, what residential condominiums (supposedly
independent) should decide in their general meetings,3 how
couples might resolve their conflicts, how personal businesses
should be managed, how college teachers and students should
behave in their school place, what leisure places have good or
bad “energy,” and all sorts of issues that concern a volunteer’s
life. Zealous people become possessive and jealous. Worried
people become fearful and angry. Despite any libertarian and
democratic rhetoric, people start to become paranoid about
protecting Conscientiology at all costs.
It is not only the group’s dependency that has created such a
high-control environment, but also Waldo Vieira’s own history.
He was a retired plastic surgeon in Rio de Janeiro with family
and business ties with the beverage company originally called
Cia Antarctica Paulista (which later merged with Brahma to
form AmBev). In his early adulthood, Vieira was the right-hand
assistant of Brazil’s most famous spiritualist, Chico Xavier.
After retirement, Vieira decided to bring Brazilian spiritualism
closer to science. He probably did not see his lack of scientific
training as a handicap and tried to compensate for it with
a disciplined study routine, adding a critical and somewhat
libertarian discourse against what he called the “conservative
sciences.” His charismatic figure and communication style
soon attracted followers from the middle classes. Not creating
much of a dialogue among other specialized groups, such
as the American Society for Psychical Resarch, Vieira built
his connections predominately with laymen less prepared
than himself to form his own group of self-taught psychical
researchers.
Three decades later, there was Vieira in a rural suburb in Brazil’s
countryside. He had imposed on himself a monastic discipline
of reading, writing, and giving daily lectures. More than ever,
Vieira had followers wherever he’d go, even inside his small
house, built in the heart of that institutional complex. He hardly
left the organization other than to visit his son downtown or
go to the mall—one of the few things Iguassu had to offer
an old man. His wife, in contrast, 40 years younger than him,
was trying to boost her career as a psychologist and teacher,
traveling around for work and postgraduate studies. They
would divorce in 2014, and Vieira would die in the coming year
after a surgical complication, despite his relatively good health
and his own public announcement that he had at least seven
more books to write, which would, he indicated, be supervised
by 40 very advanced spiritual entities.
In summary, Vieira declined everything a rich old man would
want, and chose instead to devote himself to a cause. He
protected his group in a distant ivory tower and, in return,
received the treatment of a spiritual master. Considering
the amount of psychological commitment and the sense
of superiority that inflated his followers, the increasingly
aggressive and absolute way Vieira—and his close circle—
treated those who offered opposition should come as no
surprise
The Role of Group Dynamics in a Becoming Cult
Because members could experience nearly anything as a
threat, there were constant struggles between them. The
the same in the years to come. We were now building a
social experiment, with volunteers performing all the work.
To the best of my knowledge, not even Vieira profited
from the organization—and I say that as a former financial
director there. We had our own jobs, and its paid courses and
publications maintained the organization. But the group also
had other ideas, such as real estate. The institution purchased
large pieces of land nearby and divided them into lots to be
sold at a fair price. The market value was going up. For a few
years that was a profitable business for both volunteers and the
institution.
Adding to the fact that Iguassu was a new city to all of us, we
ended up having Conscientiologists as our only social group.
They became our neighbors friends for leisure activities family
for sharing intimate questions, dates, and spouses and our
professional network and business partners. This scenario all
emerged naturally from the circumstances. Nothing had to be
dictated or imposed.
As volunteers, we began to realize that conventional science
and society were not suitable to us. Consider dating, for
example. Instead of interacting with different people, we
tended to date members, because nonmembers would
get tired of our busy nights and weekends at a paranormal
organization. They did not understand our conversation.
They wanted leisure activities instead of Consciential self-
assessments and even in a large city, our dating options
became reduced to very few people. The same happened with
our friendships and leisure options. But under the group’s
influence, we probably did not see these things as a barrier to
being integrated into society. On the contrary, we might feel
as though we did have options, whereas society offered only
chaos.
The result of such an arrangement is that all of everyone’s life
ends up under the spotlight of Conscientiologists. Members
change their entire life for the cause, often at the cost of their
family, educational, social, or professional bonds. All pay a
price to start a new life in a new city, to be among people who
think alike but are also strangers. Returning to their previous
homes would not be so easy, so they remain committed to the
conviction that the cause is worth the sacrifice.
Further, this arrangement means that Conscientiologists living
in a community become very zealous. They want your help
but worry too much about whatever they think can harm the
institutional image. Members come under the unplanned and
unintentional surveillance of their colleagues, not only within
the organizational boundaries, but anywhere. Everyone’s lives
are subject to discussion, judgment, and pressures according
to the organization’s interests.
As a result, members accept that each other represents
Conscientiology 24/7. The organization ends up discussing
how members should behave in their professional
environments, what residential condominiums (supposedly
independent) should decide in their general meetings,3 how
couples might resolve their conflicts, how personal businesses
should be managed, how college teachers and students should
behave in their school place, what leisure places have good or
bad “energy,” and all sorts of issues that concern a volunteer’s
life. Zealous people become possessive and jealous. Worried
people become fearful and angry. Despite any libertarian and
democratic rhetoric, people start to become paranoid about
protecting Conscientiology at all costs.
It is not only the group’s dependency that has created such a
high-control environment, but also Waldo Vieira’s own history.
He was a retired plastic surgeon in Rio de Janeiro with family
and business ties with the beverage company originally called
Cia Antarctica Paulista (which later merged with Brahma to
form AmBev). In his early adulthood, Vieira was the right-hand
assistant of Brazil’s most famous spiritualist, Chico Xavier.
After retirement, Vieira decided to bring Brazilian spiritualism
closer to science. He probably did not see his lack of scientific
training as a handicap and tried to compensate for it with
a disciplined study routine, adding a critical and somewhat
libertarian discourse against what he called the “conservative
sciences.” His charismatic figure and communication style
soon attracted followers from the middle classes. Not creating
much of a dialogue among other specialized groups, such
as the American Society for Psychical Resarch, Vieira built
his connections predominately with laymen less prepared
than himself to form his own group of self-taught psychical
researchers.
Three decades later, there was Vieira in a rural suburb in Brazil’s
countryside. He had imposed on himself a monastic discipline
of reading, writing, and giving daily lectures. More than ever,
Vieira had followers wherever he’d go, even inside his small
house, built in the heart of that institutional complex. He hardly
left the organization other than to visit his son downtown or
go to the mall—one of the few things Iguassu had to offer
an old man. His wife, in contrast, 40 years younger than him,
was trying to boost her career as a psychologist and teacher,
traveling around for work and postgraduate studies. They
would divorce in 2014, and Vieira would die in the coming year
after a surgical complication, despite his relatively good health
and his own public announcement that he had at least seven
more books to write, which would, he indicated, be supervised
by 40 very advanced spiritual entities.
In summary, Vieira declined everything a rich old man would
want, and chose instead to devote himself to a cause. He
protected his group in a distant ivory tower and, in return,
received the treatment of a spiritual master. Considering
the amount of psychological commitment and the sense
of superiority that inflated his followers, the increasingly
aggressive and absolute way Vieira—and his close circle—
treated those who offered opposition should come as no
surprise
The Role of Group Dynamics in a Becoming Cult
Because members could experience nearly anything as a
threat, there were constant struggles between them. The
