Cults
Amid the current heightened concern
about religious extremism and the ways
people are enlisted and trapped into
extremist groups, we need to remember
this is not a new phenomenon: cults
of various kinds have been in existence
for many years. Many adults today were
born and/or grew up in such groups.
It is their perspective that this article
addresses, and speciically the efects
of cultic methods of control on their
subsequent relationships.
There is a body of literature on
the general topic of working with cult
survivors, including articles in Therapy
Today.1,2 Here we extend this to include
the particular experience of someone
who grew up in a cult. This personal
viewpoint is provided by co-author
Mary Russell, and is written in italics.
There are various deinitions of
cults. We use one grounded in the
work of psychiatrist Robert Jay Lifton3
and Hannah Arendt:4
‘A cultic system is formed and
controlled by a charismatic authoritarian
leader or leadership body. It is a rigidly
bounded, steeply hierarchical, isolating
social system, supported and represented
by a total, exclusive ideology. The
leader sets in motion processes of
coercive persuasion (also known as
“brainwashing”), designed to isolate
and control followers.’5
These groups come in a variety of
forms, including, but not limited to,
spiritual, political, commercial or
ostensibly therapeutic. Regardless
of size and type of belief system, cultic
groups all involve some form of undue
psychological control or inluence.
Although such groups vary in their
beliefs and the extent of this control, we
would argue that there is a commonality
in the way their members are controlled
and in some of the issues encountered by
those who grow up in such environments.
These commonalities include tight
control of personal relationships,
separation from the outside world and
lack of autonomy in decision-making.
Attachment perspective
‘When I was eight, in 1954, I was left
alone in the house every day for three
weeks because I was not well enough to
attend school. I remember the associated
boredom and loneliness and also a sense
of abandonment... There were a number
of factors in this neglect: my mother was
working, economic conditions were harsh,
and child-rearing views less thought through
than at present. However, it was also cult
related in that, as in many groups, the care
of children was given a low priority.’
It is predictable that in cults any special
attachment to one’s own children –
indeed, any attachment other than
that to the leader – is frowned upon:
such attachments interfere with the
primary allegiance to the leader or group.
This may then lead to neglect and other
attachment problems in these families.5
Understanding this is vital for
therapists working with people who
have grown up in cults, or ‘high demand’
groups (often known as secondgeneration members). An attachment
analysis can help us understand both
the emotional and cognitive mechanisms
and the efects of these isolating and
highly controlling environments.
Attachment theory states that an
evolutionary adaptation fundamental
to humans is the drive to seek proximity
to a safe other (initially as infants to
caregivers) in order to gain protection
from threat, thus improving chances
of survival. A child seeks its parent when
ill, tired, frightened or in any other way
under threat. The parent then functions
as a safe haven – a source of protection
and comfort. But, once comforted,
the child eventually wishes to explore
its world again, and now the parent
functions as a secure base from which
the child ventures out and to which they
can return when protection and comfort
is again needed. Secure attachment is the
optimal form of attachment, and is open,
lexible and responsive. Similar dynamics
occur in adults in their relationships with
spouses, partners or very close friends.
But attachment relationships do not
always function well. In particular, when
the caregiver is not only the source of
potential comfort but is also the source
of threat, a relationship of disorganised
attachment results. Seeking comfort
from the source of fear is a failing
strategy: it not only brings the individual
closer to the source of fear, it also fails
to produce comfort, thus impeding
the cycle of renewed exploration.
Disorganised attachment has
both emotional and cognitive efects.
Emotionally it can lead to disorganised
or trauma bonding – a powerful,
entangled bond – with the caregiver.
Cognitively it can lead to dissociation
in response to an unbearable situation
of ‘fright without solution’.6
Stein’s research5 indicates that the
closed, fearful world within a cult is
designed to promote a relationship of
disorganised attachment to the leader
or group: a combination of terror and
‘love’ that is used to emotionally trap
and cognitively disable followers. All such
groups arouse fear by employing a variety
of threats – dangers in the outside world,
predictions of apocalyptic events, harsh
criticism or the threat of exclusion. Fear
can also be aroused through emotional
and physical means, such as guilt,
exhaustion and physical punishment.
According to Bowlby: ‘Most people
think of fear as running away from
something. But there is another side to it.
We run TO someone, usually a person.’7
The cult leader makes sure he or she,
and the group, is the only attachment,
and thus the only source of relief from
Attachment theory
and post-cult recovery
Attachment theory provides a key to understanding the emotional damage
from growing up in a cult, explain Alexandra Stein and Mary Russell
Illustration by Scott Jessop
18 Therapy Today/September 2016
September 2016/Therapy Today 19
Cults
this fear. Like the infant, cult members
develop a disorganised, potentially
harmful attachment behaviour.
The disorganised attachment of
followers then afects their parenting
and other close relationships. In fact,
in cults the leader deliberately mediates
and controls the relationships of followers
with their children. Disorganised
attachment also characterises the
relationship of the leader to their
own children, as in Mary Russell’s case.
Many studies state that cult leaders it
the proile of narcissistic personality
disorder, or of psychopaths/sociopaths.
‘My father had an unusual career. For
about 40 years he led a small, far left
political group. Growing up in London,
this was an important part of my
environment as a child and young person.
I left this group when I was 22 on the
grounds that I didn’t understand it and
wanted to lead my own life... There was
control and coercion, and ‘comrades’
were expected to put ‘the party’ before
everything else, including family and
friends. My father played the leading
role, and abused some party members,
both physically and sexually, although
this was not clear to me until later.
‘In my case I was lucky to go to an
ordinary school and to have a mother
who was not fully involved in the group...
‘What I did not realise was that this
group could be classiied as a “cult” and
that growing up in a “cult” is likely to
have various psychological consequences,
in addition to its efects on the family
context, on which therapists often focus.
‘In my case it was many years before
I realised that, even though I had
disconnected myself from this group, I had
never had a conversation with anyone who
had chosen to leave. However, I did have a
role as a family member, which I acted out by
making occasional appearances at memorial
meetings that were held to honour my father.
Having started to think about cults, I was
interested in why I had done this and also
rather ashamed... I eventually became
aware of the particular “bubble” in which
I had been living in relation to the now
former cult. The way in which I remained
enmeshed was through loyalty to my father.’
‘For me, realising some of the psychological
consequences took several stages. In the
irst place there was initial therapeutic
work in my 40s, which was very helpful
but failed to address the cult issue directly.
‘The second stage was in my 60s,
reading articles by Gillie Jenkinson,8 where
she pointed out that cults could be political,
which for me was a lightbulb moment.
Jenkinson also used the term “high demand
groups”, with which I could identify at
a point where I was not ready to take on
the term “cult”. I contacted her, and my
work on clarifying this proceeded from
there. At that stage the psycho-educational
component of our work – that is, learning
the speciics of how cults operate and control
their members – was particularly important
in helping me to understand the coercive
and highly controlled nature of the group
in which I grew up.’
‘Later it was helpful to work with other exmembers from diferent groups, particularly
in understanding how much groups with
very diferent beliefs and philosophies have
in common.
‘In the third stage, I have met and talked
to “survivors” from “my” particular far left
group about how they had come to join and
leave this group. The process of applying an
understanding of the methods and structures
generally used by cults to the particular
group I grew up in has taken place over the
last three years, and included some personal
therapy. One of the most diicult aspects
of this was grieving my loss of respect for
my father, and also fear that being disloyal
would have terrible consequences.
‘Given the disorganised bond to the
leader – who was also my father in my
case – letting go of “respect” for or worship
of the leader can feel extremely frightening.
Such fear has been instilled over many
years. The bond of terror and “love” –
as in relationships of controlling domestic
violence, or Stockholm syndrome – can be
a diicult one to navigate, and all the more
so when the perpetrator is one’s father.
And in the case of one’s father there may be
an imperative to untangle the good moments,
to not dismiss the relationship entirely.
‘In terms of abuse, my father was,
occasionally, violent towards me, as were
and are many other parents towards their
children. However, it becomes even more
diicult to think about such abuse and
name it accurately when an individual’s
grandiosity is manifested by a leadership
position in a group.’
This psycho-educational work is
particularly important for adults who
spent their childhoods within cults,
This again relects the core disorganising
dynamic of terror and ‘love’ within cults:
the grandiosity or charismatic element
Two things stand out here. First is that
if, after leaving, the former member
does not get to discuss and analyse
their cultic experience as such, they
can remain confused and disoriented
in relation to the group, even many
years after leaving. Second, the ongoing
loyalty to the group or leader (and in this
case Russell’s own father as leader) is a
continuation of the trauma/disorganised
bond created in the isolating context of
the cult. Until a clear, coherent narrative
is developed, this loyalty remains a
coercive and confusing inluence.
‘Seeking comfort from the source of fear
is a failing strategy: it not only brings the
individual closer to the source of fear, it also
fails to produce comfort, thus impeding the
cycle of renewed exploration’
20 Therapy Today/September 2016
who can then begin to develop a coherent
narrative that relects the reality of
their early experience, rather than the
dogmatic and ‘ictional’ narrative of life
in the group described by the leader.
muddies the ability of the child to
understand the abuse they have sufered.
‘Speaking to ex-members of the group my
father led, several of them note the ways
in which they were abused, and at the same
time ways in which my father occasionally
showed caring or appreciation, which
they have clearly remembered for the last
30 years (as I also expereinced). In other
words, there was a combination of fear
and being appreciated, which helped
secure their membership of the group.
‘Similarly, my memories of my father’s
kindness and warmth towards me, as well
as respect and loyalty for him, have made
it particularly diicult for me to think
about what happened in that group. More
general awareness of this phenomenon
would be useful for therapists working
with adults who grew up in cults.’
This potent combination, the
characteristic push/pull of fear and
‘love’ (which Judith Herman describes
as ‘the capricious granting of small
indulgences’9 within an overall
environment of control and terror),
cements the trauma/disorganised bond
between leader and follower, and here
also between father and child.
‘Being in this group as a child did give
me something; unfortunately, it was not
what I needed. I believed our group was
extremely important, that therefore I also
had signiicance. Although as children we
were neglected and our needs not taken into
account, at the same time my brother and
I experienced a status, because our father
was the group leader. This type of specialness
went with feeling quite disconnected from
the world outside the group and a belief
that we had a magic key that might
unlock everything.’
This sense of an elite status is, in fact,
common to all cult members and serves
References
1. Jenkinson G. Working with cult
survivors. Therapy Today 2013;
24(4): 18–22.
2. Dubrow-Marshall L. In: Jenkinson
G. Working with cult survivors.
Therapy Today 2013; 24(4): 18–22.
to isolate them from the outside world.
It also provides an unrealistic ideal
standard of behaviour – a standard
that can be used as the basis for harsh
criticism or punishment when the
child (or indeed adult) inevitably fails
to live up to it. This is part of the cult’s
system of maintaining a level of chronic
fear, which prevents a sense of inner
security and autonomy and feeds
into the disorganised dynamic.
After the cult
If the client has broken away from the
cult as a young adult, this may happen
as part of a necessary teenage/adult
rebellion. For many leavers, the damage
from the experience need not extend
throughout their adult life. A person’s
attachment status is malleable over time;
subsequent ‘good enough’ relationships
can help a person to develop a more
secure attachment style later in life.
‘I left the organisation after a short period
and never strongly identiied with it. I
followed my mother in trying to ignore
my father and the group by disconnecting
from those experiences. In other words,
some of those experiences were put in
the ‘too diicult box’, largely because of
fear and my loyalty to my father. I was
fortunate, for various reasons, in being
able, with diiculty, to develop earned,
secure attachments in most areas of my
life as an adult. However, particularly
as a young adult, this disconnection had a
cost in other areas, including social isolation
and a high anxiety level.’
The untangling of various life
experiences and relationships is very
important for ex-members, and even
more so for those who grew up in cults.
While the cult experience must not be
ignored, the client should not dismiss
the time they spent in the negative realm
of the cult. Good things have happened
3. Lifton RJ. Thought reform
and the psychology of totalism:
a study of ‘brainwashing’ in China.
Chapel Hill, NC: UNC Press; 1989.
4. Arendt H. The origins of
totalitarianism. Orlando, FL:
Houghton Milin Harcourt; 1973.
within that framework. People in the
closed cultic world have found (often
secret) ways to show love and afection.
Skills and knowledge they may have
acquired in the group are real assets
that they can now claim. It is vital for
the client to sift out these elements,
own them and not feel they are obliged
to credit the cult leader for them. In fact,
it can be important for ex-members to
acknowledge their own resilience and
resistance and that of others in having
found or created these positive elements
within a traumatic environment.
Conclusion
If the therapist knows that a client has
grown up in a closed cult, they can ofer
psycho-education about the isolating,
enguling and fear-arousing control
mechanisms used within such groups,
and their efect on attachment relations.
What is important is not to focus
on the relationships within the family
without also addressing the context
of the highly controlling, closed group
around it. This context has clear
implications for the parents – whether
they are the leader or followers who
have ceded to the leader or group their
autonomous relationship to their child,
with all its damaging consequences.
Alexandra Stein is a social psychologist
and Associate Lecturer at Birkbeck and
at the Mary Ward Centre, London. Her
book, Terror, Love and Brainwashing:
attachment in cults and totalitarian
systems, will be published in December
by Routledge. www.alexandrastein.com
Mary Russell is a senior accredited
counsellor working integratively in
private practice in Richmond, London.
Her specialisms include trauma and work
with people who have been in cults or high
demand groups. www.maryruss.co.uk;
[email protected]
5. Stein A. Terror, love and
brainwashing: attachment in
cults and totalitarian systems.
Routledge; forthcoming.
6. Hesse E, Main M. Disorganized
infant, child, and adult attachment:
collapse in behavioral and
attentional strategies. Journal
of the American Psychoanalytic
Association 2000; 48(4): 1097–1127.
7. Hesse E, Main M. Frightened,
threatening, and dissociative
parental behavior in low-risk
samples: description, discussion,
and interpretations. Development
and Psychopathology 2006; 18(2):
309–343.
8. Jenkinson G. Rebuilding the
jigsaw. Thresholds 2011; 4: 4–7.
9. Herman JL. Trauma and recovery.
Philadelphia, PA: Basic Books; 1997.
September 2016/Therapy Today 21