I first encountered Esther Friedman’s work when she performed at the ICSA conference in Santa Fe in 2017. She sang amusing but trenchant ballads about how her cult, School, had deceived her and negatively impacted her life. Her ability to dissect this cult by filleting it perfectly made her audience laugh. Of course, we realized that in fact, Esther’s experience wasn’t laughable at all. This ability to eviscerate her cult in an amusing way seemed to be a sign of Esther’s healthy recovery—and it gave me some insight into her delightful personality.
I’m pleased to say that Esther Friedman has written a memoir of her cult experience that provides the reader with an honest portrayal of herself and all she learned from that experience. She approached this book as both a former cult member and a therapist writing for those whom cults have harmed, so the book is formatted as a memoir backed by research and therapeutic suggestions.
Esther viewed herself as a gentle soul with empathy for others and an inquiring mind struggling with a path forward to success. She describes how these character traits tended to make her vulnerable to cult deception. As a therapist myself, over the years, I’ve had the privilege to work with many people who can be described as gentle souls, and I have observed that they tend to project their goodness onto those who may not deserve it. This admirable trait, along with some degree of innocence—often stemming from being raised in an early environment where most people were whom they seemed, has made them vulnerable to a scheming narcissist. This belief in the goodness of others can also contribute to a continued need to believe that the cult’s way is good despite emerging underlying doubts.
Esther writes:
Predatory people target people with patience, empathy, the need to understand, and compassion, so those traits become vulnerabilities…. those of us compelled to and rewarded by being helpful also tend to take on too much responsibility for other people’s emotional turmoil. We find ourselves sucked into other people’s dramas and shoulder their inappropriate expectations. Our boundaries disintegrate when we feel responsible for situations that are not our burdens. So, we are more easily manipulated by guilt. (p. 155-156)
As with so many people who become ensnared in cults, Esther was at a low point in her life when she became involved. A woman who was standing behind her at the Whole Foods checkout began a conversation that eventually led her to School, a discussion group of like minded people. Little did Esther know that the seemingly erudite and original secret philosophy that promised to lead her to a richer life had not only highjacked the teachings of the twentieth-century philosopher George Gurdjieff but would eventually hijack her mind.
Esther shares the valuable lessons she learned along the way to her recovery, such as the need to listen to your gut, to beware of a demand to keep secrets, and to understand that real help leads to clarity, not confusion, despair, and disorientation. Her description of cult dynamics is seamlessly intertwined with her professional knowledge of mental health. Her explanation of how cults effectively use trauma bonding is an example of her skill. She writes, “At a certain point in the cult, nothing mattered more than earning acceptance from the leadership. We chased that acceptance, but we could never sacrifice or do enough. We were never enough” (p. 134).
Esther also comments on mirror neurons and attachment theory, explaining that we are hardwired to imitate one another. She informs us how mirroring, which involves observation and then imitation, impacts our language development, emotions, and intentions. However, this biological process may also make us vulnerable and receptive to another’s manipulation.
Esther says she was taught early in her life to respect authority, and this human wiring ran deep. We are often not socialized to question those in leadership positions or educated to recognize the difference between ethical mentors and nefarious actors.
While participating in a legitimate graduate school program, Esther found that her academic program’s ethics course addressed the power differential between therapists and clients. Knowing this dynamic can make therapists more mindful of how we might work with the client to equalize the therapeutic relationship. In contrast, the power differential in the cult was so great that even while Esther could see that her cult teachers were violating social norms and decency, despite knowledge gained from her master’s program, she dismissed her misgivings. In telling us this and sharing a few other examples, Esther illustrates the power of cults to make us revise what we see (by employing a cult interpretation or cliche). This power to influence also reveals how cults can transform their member’s moral code— their sense of right and wrong. In this book, Esther provides the reader with valuable information to distinguish between ethical leadership and what she describes as “ill intended, nefarious, and self-serving actors.”
As part of her educational and recovery-oriented goal, Esther shows us how she could reclaim herself and stop allowing others to manipulate her with their agendas. Learning how to begin to trust herself and her emotions became the key. As Esther notes, an important step towards her mental health growth during her recovery was that she began to allow herself to feel her anger and therefore, when necessary, to assert herself by establishing needed boundaries with others.
Esther writes with intelligence, insight, warmth, and humor. She shares many valuable nuggets of information about the cult world and the recovery process that will be helpful to former cult members, therapists, and the public at large.
