Doubt helps keep us fully human as opposed to fanatics who sacrifice some fundamental part of their humanity when they adopt a worldview that is one of an ironclad belief in a system, or a person. Doubt necessitates questions. It separates the individual from what he or she is questioning so that the object of devotion may be examined with a critical eye and mind. Fanaticism breeds obedience and a blind conformity.
To become a part of a cult is to pose a problem for one’s epistemology. Epistemology is the study of knowledge – how it originates, what forms it takes, and on the nature of its limits.
A cult is meant to eliminate doubt, thus, to eliminate limits on devotion, thus, to eliminate questioning, thus, to eliminate independence of mind. A cult promises relief from thinking.
Most of us go about our daily lives relying upon some degree of independent evidence as we make decisions, and those decisions are usually preceded by questions, or range within habits of choice we have already processed in terms of evidence. We think of evidence in terms of facts and questions. Questions are meant to lead us to some modicum of truth, enough to base a decision upon. If not, we reexamine our research and/or our method of testing through questioning.
For example, are the ingredients in this dog food healthy? How can I know? I’ll research the chemicals. Are the sources of my information credible? How can I know? Are they brands with quality reputations? Have any news reports come out recently that question the quality of their products? What elements of uncertainty must I deal with? How much do I trust these sources?
Ultimately, our decisions should depend upon a kind of educated internal balancing of conflicting claims that we test against what we observe, what we have known and what we have further learned.
A cult seeks to short-circuit all of those processes. It wants a linear mode of thought, not one that branches, doubles back, leaps forward, swirls, hesitates, says no, says yes, says maybe. It wants a straight progression from A to B, from the cult leader saying, “This is true” to the believer saying, “I believe.”
A cult requires a cult leader, one authority, one inimical voice – someone charismatic, someone entertaining; someone able to remain aloof while simultaneously extending him or herself as a kind of warm quilt of certainty. He is there to connect with, eliminate doubt, provide answers, to promise relief from their troubles, and to promise either a religious or secular salvation.
He performs a delicate balancing act. He is theirs but he is also very special, a man or woman apart. The bearer of special truths must have special powers – the ability to create wealth or articulate their fears and be a shield against them or give them permission to hate and to make that hatred seem morally justified. Ultimately, the cult leader becomes messianic – unlimited authority inexorably leads to this. He acquires an aura of infallibility. He may be forgiven all manner of vices because he brings the truth and the never-before-seen light in which they dwell. However, as Walter Benjamin wrote, “The Messiah comes not only as the redeemer, but he also comes as the subduer of Anti-Christ.” *
Cults demand obedience and devotion. They set up a special part of the world that they alone know is real. Those who will not give their obedience or devotion to this reality or who question the need or basis of either, are a threat to other members of the cult. Independence of mind is the enemy. A cult must have enemies. Cults acquire heroic status – they have told the truth when no one else has done so – and they embrace the status of victims – look how our enemies persecute us for telling the truth. Outside threats draw the cult closer together.
The Anti-Christ that cult members are told to hate, perhaps even attack, is mutable. It may change depending upon the leader’s needs at the moment, but enemies (inevitably plural) never go away. Without enemies, cults are merely clubs. Part of a cult’s power comes from its whiff of danger and threat, from its capacity to do harm to unbelievers.
The problem for cults is their insistence on certainty. If members suddenly begin to pick and choose what to believe, everything falls apart. Remember, a cult demands obedience. If a member of the cult dismisses one tenet of belief because it offends his or her sense of logic or morality, then every tenet of that cult is susceptible to dismissal. It follows that the leader of the cult is fallible, its most devoted members foolish, its truths suspect, its demands of obedience and devotion only methods of control not of liberation. That questioning member leaves or is exiled from the cult (sometimes worse) and becomes an object of its wrath. Traitors must be punished.
Ultimately, to retain their authority, cults must either threaten violence and/or use it both to keep their hold on their own members and to intimidate their opponents. Violence is built into the DNA of a cult.
Violence may also be used in a doomed attempt to overthrow established authorities who pose a threat to a cult’s actions in controlling its members or in attacking critical outsiders.
The only good news about cults is that they rarely survive the deaths of their leaders. His charisma is the mortar that unites them. With his death, the unifying power of the cult’s creed is also gone. His death usually equals dissolution and the sundering of his followers into splinter groups espousing varying doctrines. To survive, cults must grow in membership. Otherwise, they stagnate and collapse as their members die or drift away. The death of a cult’s leader eliminates the spark and fire that held them together and brought in new recruits.
Eventually, they fade away but not without the original cult having done real damage to its devotees — the destruction of families and friendships, the loss of wealth, the loss of years committed to ridiculous ideas, and sometimes even the loss of freedom because the cult member acted on behalf of the ‘messiah’ and broke the law.
Some people emerge from the cult by evolving out of it, or they escape it, but many do not because they do not wish to do so. They may be ashamed of what they have become, zombie people who gave up their hearts and minds to an imposter, or they may be afraid of threats from others who stay. More likely is this — a cult must feel rapturous. A person belongs who may never have belonged to anything that brings together so many who believe as he or she now believes. That person is now privy to an unlocking of secrets, for cults always promise knowledge no one else possesses. They are given access to a special category of wisdom that really is a form of a blessing — the messiah knows me even without having met me. Home at last, he may think, among so many who know me best.
*From Theses on the Philosophy of History by Walter Benjamin
