Today, as a clinical psychologist, I work with people leaving fleeing religious abuse. But 20 years ago, I was in a cult myself.
At 16, curious about the world and my place in it, I started attending courses in astral travel and self-knowledge. I was funnelled from course to course with other attendees – each of the classes presenting more beliefs about a mysterious spiritual transformation.
Within six months, I was in deep – immersed in a cult which held some extreme beliefs. These included a conviction that emotions were entities from another dimension that needed to be eliminated for one to become spiritually “conscious”. The group’s leader was held as the only living god and betraying him meant an eternity in hell. We were forbidden from going to places like bars, other spaces of worship and cinemas because they would sully our energies.
Within a year, I had absorbed the view that everyone was going to hell and the only thing that mattered was spreading the group’s teachings. I was a fully fledged cult member.
Although I was young, if you’d asked me then whether I was susceptible to joining a cult, I would have scoffed. I had been an avowed atheist and sceptic who understood the world through the lens of science; a stance I have reverted to since. However, my scepticism quickly dissolved after my first introduction to the group’s teachings.
The power of cults is not in their ability to spot stupid or gullible victims. Instead, they tap into powerful psychological drives and employ sophisticated coercion. Having learnt about these factors from the inside out, I can now help others process what they’ve been through.
Last October, I gave evidence to a Victorian parliamentary inquiry into the recruitment methods and impacts of cults. On Wednesday, the inquiry released its findings, recommending that group-based coercive control be criminalised, and that additional protections and supports be put in place for cult leavers.
Many people who join cults are young and engaged in the exploration of identity and life questions typical of their age. The inquiry found the teenagers and young people – often targeted in places like university campuses, workplaces or online – who end up in coercive high‑control groups were among the most vulnerable and the least visible in the state.
Individual psychological characteristics may make people vulnerable to coercive groups: an intolerance for uncertainty and a preference for black and white answers, social isolation, mental health difficulties, early experiences of trauma and attachment difficulties, relational anxieties and a fear of rejection. People might have a drive to fix the world or solve problems.
To those seeking certainty, answers to weighty existential questions and a sense of belonging, coercive religious groups offer alignment with a charismatic and all-powerful authority figure. This potent mix is the carrot, of course. The stick is emotional manipulation, rejection and shunning, and the fear of eternal torture and damnation for those who consider leaving.
Other structural behaviours wielded by cults also facilitate the joining process – and it is a well-worn grooming procedure that follows a predictable pattern.
Most cults have an innocuous front, such as prayer groups, meditation meetings. The deeper beliefs are only exposed once recruits have spent some time within an organisation. Recruits usually have some doubts, but groups offer neat spiritual responses to dismiss these.
The group I was in said that only “spiritual failures” left the organisation, and that those with doubts were being influenced by their own emotions (which needed to be eliminated) or by demonic forces. At some stage, the rubicon is crossed and increasingly bizarre beliefs are absorbed, internalised and seemingly voluntarily held.
The beginning stage is characterised by exceptional warmth from cult leaders and other adherents. This “love bombing” develops a welcome sense of belonging, focused heavily on group membership.
At the same time, isolation is encouraged and those outside the group are shunned. Information, behaviour and senses become tightly controlled for those inside – their emotions and identity destabilised through practices such as long meditation sessions or sleep deprivation. The external anchors of reality are effectively dismantled.
Linguistic techniques are also deployed, such as thought-terminating clichés that sweep away critical thinking or cognitive dissonance. In the group I was in, we were told to “investigate in the astral” to find all the answers we needed.
By this time, a cult member’s outside connections have been severed, their identity almost wholly centred around group membership. When I was at this stage, there was a sense of immense power. It was as though I held some special information others didn’t. It was a repudiation of “normal” experiences and there was relief at having one defined pathway with clarity and spiritual awakening at its end.
Drawing attention to these processes is important, as the cults and organised fringe groups inquiry has done. I’ve worked with many people who have experienced religious coercion and abuse, and while some of them were born into these groups, the rest underwent the process of grooming I have described.
Universal psychological needs – for belonging and understanding – make us all potential cult members. Knowing how to spot coercive and manipulative behaviours earlier makes it less likely we will be recruited into harmful groups masquerading in the guise of religion.
Dr Ahona Guha is a clinical and forensic psychologist, trauma expert and author based in Melbourne.
If you or anyone you know needs support, visit Cult Information and Family Support Australia, call Lifeline on 13 11 14, or Beyond Blue on 1800 512 348.
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Dr Ahona Guha is a clinical and forensic psychologist, trauma expert and author based in Melbourne.
