Joys of Recovery?

Healthy sponsorship boundaries

Note: We neither endorse nor oppose the above organisation

Cheers

The Fellas (Friends of Alcoholics Anonymous)

Re: Surrey St Sunday meeting (Croydon)

From our correspondent:

"Dear AA cultwatch,......

Two months ago some male members from the group began expressing concerns that during Sunday fellowship a group claiming to be 'Back to Basics' where using very assertive canvassing and recruitment techniques to get

men on their program. 

...... this group discuss, for example, that there is no need for a sponsor as it is not in the Big Book. All this of course occurred outside of an AA setting. Nevertheless I relayed my concerns, and those of the other men, to the all (apart from me) female committee. 

In the last week, things have progressed to the point that Back to Basics are now using the same room that AA have their meetings in to host post meeting group sessions. My phone calls to GSO confirm that Back to Basics is not endorsed by AA. B2B has crossed the line and is becoming increasingly clear that men are no longer returning to Surrey st meetings as they feel B2B is not 'in the spirit of AA'. 

B2B are subtle with their approach and never mention B2B when they share at either meeting. Please spread the word regarding Back to Basics and what is happening with AA in Croydon....." (edits to preserve anonymity)

Comment: Back to Basics has essentially been set up as Wally P's pension pot. It's a programme rip off that makes all sorts of claims to success rates (as yet unsubstantiated). It forms part of the Big Book recovery 'industry' where 'experts' of all shapes and sizes peddle their wares in the hope of making a few bucks (and massaging their already frail egos) on the side. But if you don't fancy the text based (overnight success 'guaranteed') approach then you can always opt to join the sponsor 'fetishists' (Road to Recovery, Joys of Recovery, Clancy I blah blah blah) club. Here you can happily dispense with the need to seek out a Higher Power .. one will be provided for you ... in the shape of yet another 'wise guy' (or gal .. let's not be sexist here!) who will happily organise your life for you .. No need to think for yourself or ask for God's guidance (if you're inclined that way). Just ring up your sponsor and they'll tell you ALL you need to know and do ... Or ...... you could just go along to a bog standard AA meeting, sit down, drink your beverage, munch on a biccie and listen to other people as they share their experience of getting and staying sober in the REAL world You might even chip in with a few thoughts yourself. And then you just go out and DO it! And guess what! That works as well! Who'd have thought it! It couldn't be that simple could it? Yep. It's just that simple....

Cheers

The Fellas (Friends of Alcoholics Anonymous .. and big fans of Keeping It Simple)

PS Thanks to our correspondent

Cults and A.A. Conventions

An A.A. member’s escape from the clutches of a cult… 


“The Recovery Alliance Inc. (RAI), bills itself as a self-help organization dedicated to the advancement of recovery for what the group refers to as “obsessive-compulsive” persons, such as alcoholics, compulsive eaters, and compulsive gamblers. RAI practices the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), but claims to do it in a way that is more “pure” than AA and other “Anonymous” fellowships. RAI believes that the 12-step programs have been watered down over the years and no longer practice the true program of recovery as it was intended by its founders.

RAI is structured as a non-profit organization, with a board of directors and an organizational charter. Although the board elects a chairman, all the members’ activities, beliefs, and direction evolve from the founding member, Donald Gilroy. Gilroy teaches that the “illness” that members are recovering from is centered in selfishness and self-centeredness. To recover, members must commit their lives to selfless self-sacrifice. They are subjected to, among other things, rigorous and tiresome fund-raising, schedules, public humiliation, rigidly controlled diets, and other abusive conduct.

I wrote the following letter to RAI members two years after leaving the group.

March 7, 1992

Hi!

This week has marked two years since I left the Recovery Alliance, Inc. (RAI). I am writing this letter just to let you know what it’s like on this side. I have so much to say that I could go on for pages, but I will try to keep this as brief as possible.

I have seen you guys several times – fund-raising, of course. I saw you selling T-shirts in Seattle and raffle tickets at the Durham Fair. I have seen you at car shows, department stores, and at the fireworks. My first reaction when I see you is repulsion, but it is quickly followed by sorrow. I know what it is like for you, since you are all victims (yes victims do exist), just as I was.

It is interesting what I am able to see now that I couldn’t see then. For as long as I was there I knew that I was unhappy, but I was told that the problem was with my recovery, not my environment.

I remember making the decision to leave. It was like all of a sudden being struck with a bolt of sanity. I’m sure you all think it was because I had a boyfriend. Well, I made my decision a couple of months before I met him. After having been placed on probation, I remember standing in my room and thinking, “I can’t do this anymore. I want to leave.” It was not the first time I had ever had that thought, but this time it was different. This time it was followed by another thought, which was “I don’t care what the consequences will be.” As you observed, I made no attempt to meet the terms of my probation.

When I first left, I was quite confused. Fortunately, I quickly got help from some professionals who have experience with working with former members of RAI and other similarly destructive groups. They helped me see the insanity of the situation. The loss of freethinking. The emotional, sexual, and spiritual abuse we were all suffering. The psychopathology of Donald. I was helped by some books – Combatting Cult Mind Control by Steve Hassan and People of the Lie by Scot Peck.

Well, the consequences of my leaving were nothing like I expected. What am I like today? I’m basically a happy person. I have a good job in my field with a Fortune 500 company. I have a nice apartment (yes, with off-street parking) and a decent car. I have a handful of close friends and many acquaintances. Most of my friends are in 12-step programs, but some aren’t. I have good relationships with my family.

Most of all I have freedom. I probably average three AA meetings a week – sometimes more, sometimes less. If I’m tired or just don’t feel like going to a meeting, I stay home. Or I go somewhere else. I keep busy, but make time for myself too. I clean my apartment every week. I just finished reading a 1,000 page novel. On weekends I frequently get together with friends and go dancing, hiking, or on day trips. I have dated several guys in the last two years, and have had a couple of steady relationship, too.

How’s my relationship with God? Fine. I worship the god of my own understanding.

I am not overweight, nor am I underweight. I eat two or three meals a day, and sometimes, if I feel like it, I have a snack in between.

I am able to express whatever is on my mind, and I don’t have to follow any formula. I attend fairs and festivals as a participant, not as a vendor. I attend AA conventions as an AA member, not as a vendor – and not as a person with superior knowledge.

Not a Friday has gone by when I haven’t come home from a long work week and said to myself, “Thank God I don’t have to go to that awful meeting.”

I feel sorry for other former members who haven’t received the help they need. Many of them end up with tremendous guilt as a result of RAI’s teachings. Some have joined other destructive groups. One has died. Fortunately, however, most of us have been helped by the proper professionals and have been able to live happy lives.

I wish you all the best, and hope that you will soon realize the amount of control and deception taking place in your surroundings.

Sincerely,

Holly”

(Extract from “Captive Hearts, Captive Minds –Freedom and Recovery from Cults and Abusive Relationships” (Hunter House, 1994) pp. 8-10 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Captive_Hearts,_Captive_Minds 

Comment: A book by one of the world's leading cult experts, J. Lalich, Professor of Sociology at California State University. Forward by M. Langone, Executive Director of the International Cul;tic Studies Association (ICSA)  http://www.icsahome.com/home  So, read all about it, cults have been targeting A.A. for some time.  Like the Primary Purpose cult, Back to Basics mob, Clancy I and the Pacific Group, RAI replays the same record, albeit stuck in a groove… “RAI practices the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), but claims to do it in a way that is more “pure” than AA and other “Anonymous” fellowships. RAI believes that the 12-step programs have been watered down over the years and no longer practice the true program of recovery as it was intended by its founders...” … Blah, blah, blah…

Watch out for those T-shirt vendors and lecturers at A.A. conventions - they may be victims in need of specialist counselling!

Cheerio, 

The Fellas (Friends of Alcoholics Anonymous)

The 'Ploys of Recovery'!

Extracts from the aacultwatch forum (old):

“I had the misfortune to be sponsored by David B a number of  years ago.  I fell for the spiel being a somewhat impressionable newcomer.  He was certainly charming enough and could "talk the talk" no end. But show any sign of independent thought, even dare to express your own viewpoint, and you rapidly enough saw the other side of that particular coin.  For someone who preached sponsorship till your ears bled he was notoriously evasive when it came to the subject of his own sponsor.  Turns out he didn't have one which pretty much fits his profile - all image and not much else.  As for other meetings he was pretty open in his contempt for these and only encouraged people to go to them to "spread the word" or rather the  morally defective and emotionally enfeebled version of the programme which was his stock-in-trade.  The guy was even terrified to go to them himself fearful that if he got caught "off his turf" he might be presented with a few home truths by those who had a real recovery under their belts. The guy didn't even get beyond Step 3.  There was only one HP in David B's life and  that was .... guess who!  But it would be dishonest for me to say I learnt nothing from him.  On the contrary he was a teacher beyond parallel when it came to instructing people on how NOT to carry the AA message, how NOT to relate to other members, and he quite definitely didn't have anything that I wanted.  My recovery took place after I had parted company with him and the "Ploys of Recovery". When I heard that he had finally shuffled off apart from a large measure of indifference on my part I was just glad that no one else had to endure his tedious moralising.  Unfortunately what he has spawned is actually worse than the original hence my support for aacultwatch.”

“I too remember David B sitting at the front of the meeting facing the audience in a “commanding” position. I attended the Vision for You group at Eaton Square around the same time as you did. The Vision was a breakaway from the Joys of Recovery. I cannot now remember the exact reason for the breakaway, but I think it had something to do with not responding when people introduce themselves and “keeping the serenity prayer as it was originally written” i.e. not adding “it works if you work it”. This was the so-called “original” format that David B wanted for his group/cult. There was no democracy at that group, the steering committee was controlled by David B through the pyramid sponsorship system. I saw many abuses and lies being told at that group. David B himself did not have a sponsor. He claimed that a man called Frank who lived in America was his sponsor. However after David died some enquiries were made, and the Frank in question turned out to be someone who was drinking and had no idea he was sponsoring anyone. I do know that leading members of the Vision group, including David “the Icon” C, knew about David B’s deception in this matter but chose not to rock the boat or betray their Great Leader. I witnessed David B sack a number of his sponsees who questioned David’s lack of a sponsor. Also, for someone who promoted service to the hilt, he was remarkably inactive himself. Around the time of his death he had not had any service commitment for nigh on 10 years. This from a man who told others they should have at least 2 service commitments. Nor did David ring any newcomers to my knowledge, in spite of demanding that others ring 2 per day! No, David was very much a “do as I say and not as I do” man. He made up arbitrary rules that contradicted AA approved literature. For example one of his edicts ordered that no one should do voluntary work outside AA. In other words if, for example, you wanted to do some voluntary work in a homeless shelter for a few nights per week, or something similar, this was forbidden by David B. Only service work for AA, (or more accurately for David’s cult) was allowed. This contradicts suggestions in the AA Book Living Sober which David clearly had not read. Another rule he made up was that his sponsees/group members were not allowed to work or train as social workers or counselors or religious clergy. Because what they might learn or practice “might contradict AA” (=might contradict David B). This of course goes against AA literature too, and is even described as being an anti-social attitude in the 12x12. It places AA in conflict with wider society. David wanted his sponsee-puppets to be as ignorant and superstitious as possible – much more easy to control that way.

The mantle of ignorance and superstition is now being ably carried on by David C “the Icon”, who now works in the USA as a Catholic iconographer and broadcaster. He is the chief author of 2 websites which have been mentioned in several places in the aacultwatch site and have brought AA into disrepute. The “Handbook to the Big Book” and associated website is one of his masterworks. This ignominious tome contains the instructions for step 4 where the sponsee has to write a detailed account of his sexual exploits including sex with children, animals, bottles etc and sexual positions and fantasies. It is a voyeurs charter. This sick evil garbage has already caused problems in AA in North London, and I recently discovered that the same document is being circulated in Ealing – most likely by Happy Dennis who is a sponsee of David C. Happy Dennis also promotes David C’s website on his “suggestions” card and the “book of Big Book Quotes”. All in breach of AA Traditions of course.

David C "Icon" is never short of an opinion or two, usually conceited, ill-informed, and based upon an extreme fundamentalist version of catholic dogma. His recent broadcasts in the USA for Catholic TV were a set of programs on art where, among other things, he attacks Picasso and rubbishes all modern art while craftily alluding to the “humility” of his own efforts and approach to art. On another show he visits a Museum and goes on to insult some Buddhist and Hindu statues there, saying that they are not fit to grace his home or garden, but assuring us that he will not take a hammer to them and smash them up (how good of him!) Apparently this is because the statues in question do not represent or follow “Catholic faith and truth”. It’s a pity his concern for “truth” didn’t extend to the matter of David B’s imaginary sponsor. David C ("Icon"/"Way of Beauty") is an arrogant elitist opinionated bore and a religious bigot. He scarcely disguises his contempt for eastern religions - "everyone today seems to be a Buddhist" he sneers sarcastically. His somewhat dour personality is as frigid and one-dimensional as the Icons he paints. In spite of his alleged “humility” he is a perverter and subverter of AA in the UK.

As for Happy Dennis, indeed he is a strange man. One does not have to be in his presence for long to realize that something is amiss in the sanity department. He has adopted the practice of “jumping for joy” every time he meets you or talks to you. From a distance it looks comical - like he has bad case of the hiccoughs - as he greets people attending his groups in Ealing. He is wont to ludicrous repetitions and exaggerations for example he will say “I am very very very very very very happy .. and I’m even happier than that” One is left wondering if he is more trying to convince himself of how “happy” he is, than his audience. He also sometimes speaks very rapidly – in the manner of someone suffering from a form a mania. As for his Book of Big Book Quotes, I’m not a legal expert, but I think there is a strong possibility that it breaches copyright as he has taken extensive quotes not just from the main text of the BB but also from the personal stories section and from later editions which are still, I believe, under copyright. When he shares he often misquotes the literature, so it wouldn’t surprise me if his next effort will be to re-write the entire Big Book itself. The man is a self-willed goon. But he has completely polarized and divided the fellowship in the Ealing area, undermining long established local meetings.

These sick narcissistic personalities are damaging and perverting AA in this country and I am glad that there is now a forum and website exposing them and defending AA. Knowledge is power!”

The Fellas (Friends of Alcoholics Anonymous)

PS To use “comment” system simply click on the relevant tab below this article and sign in. All comments go through a moderation stage

PPS For new aacultwatch forum see here. Have your say!

Joys of Recovery Detroit and Troy (Michigan)

A recent email from the States. We quote:

“I found a great deal of hope in this website in that I am not alone. Thank you to who ever is running this site! Everything I have been through and witnessed makes so much sense now.

I was taken to a Joys meeting in 2012 by a women I met at a young persons meeting in 2010 but at that time I was not ready to be sober though hung onto the phone number.

This meeting takes place on Wednesday evening at 7.30pm in Troy [MI] titled Joys of Recovery. I knew something was strange right from the start, I had obviously been to AA previously and this meeting seemed different. To start, before the meeting we had dinner at a local restaurant, all the men sat at one end of the restaurant and the women on the other. Once done with dinner it was off to the meeting just around the corner, though we needed to be at the meeting early, an hour early? There was the usual coffee and treats… the meeting is set up in led discussion format, which for Michigan is unusual. We typically see table topic meetings. Yet again the men have their side on the right and women on the left. Though the men if they wanted could sit on the women's side, there are many more men then women so I'll give them the benefit and say seating could have been slim, though if you're a female heaven forbid you're sitting on the men's side… Five minutes before the meeting starts with a speaker the coffee and treats are taken away, I have since learned this is because alcoholics need to acquire discipline and sit though a whole meeting and listen to the message. In the opening announcements it was stated "some of our members are sensitive to swearing" - really? This is fucking AA! Never have I ever heard such B.S... some of our newly sober members just came off the street, I feel as though swearing should be the least of anyone's concerns. Can we pull the sticks out of our asses please, and we're alcoholic it often comes along with the territory. I so badly want to shout obscenities but I kept my mouth shut… The following message I heard spoke little about what it use to be like and more so on sponsor/sponsee relationship, service, how important it was to not speak to people of the opposite sex because we alcoholics don't know what our motives are, and a few other "suggestions" I never read in the Big Book. I was given a newcomers packet which consisted of a meeting guide, a few women's numbers because there wasn't many at this meeting, a Just for Today card and a couple other papers/pamphlets.

After getting out of treatment right away I knew I needed a sponsor so I wasn't too picky and asked the woman who gave [me] a ride on a couple occasions. We had a few things in common about what it use to be like…. I asked a woman A.... to work with me, she told me a little about herself though stated she was extremely happy today and never thought about drinking - the obsession as they say had been removed. That's what I wanted, and she seemed to be the ring leader of the women there, sat in the front chair on the women's side and to me at the time seemed like a VIP of AA at least with the Joys folks. At the time it didn't make sense but now knowing all the history of Joys AA I can make a few connections, I was told her sponsor lived in England / AKA the motherland of Joys/ Visions meetings. Once I stated working one on one I had all of the typical daily suggestions of the Joys Cult, read and live out the JFT card, gratitude list, calling newcomers, I was set up with 2 three month long service positions, one in Troy and one at their sister location Detroit (also talked about on this site) I was not to have any romantic relations, read 2 pages of the big book, daily meetings though there were meetings I was advised not to attend / didn't count as meetings, for example women's meetings because we should not be prejudice on who can hear a message ( though they choose to segregate men and women @ their fellowship and own meetings ) Is segregation a form of prejudice? Just a thought... Then there was a meeting I attended where Joys was not spoken fondly of when I told them I went there, A...... told me "they were sick" and I probably should choose another meeting that night. That meeting was my home group and I was a young person and it was a young person meeting which was very refreshing but, I was told that my home group was now Joys because my sponsor was from Joys and her sponsor started Joys…. ( Kristen and John C ) the husband and wife who play mummy and daddy in the cascade style sponsoring. I was to never miss a Joys meeting attend early and attend fellowship. At the time I was on an anti depressant, meanwhile 2 months earlier I was released from a mental hospital and was advised NOT to come off my medication. I told A.... what I was taking its a non-narcotic explained what the medication did etc, and I was told "I need to look that up"… For real? I found that odd, you're not my doctor lady, you're my sponsor, and you're supposed to have no medical view or opinion so why do you need to "look that up"…. Someone from another group asked once they found out who my sponsor was if I had to sign my name in blood and deliver my first born child to be a home group member with Joys. Obviously this meeting had a reputation I was unaware of. As did my sponsor...

Upon going to the meeting in Detroit a man stood outside and said his sponsor was telling him to stop smoking since he had acquired a year of sobriety, where does the book say that we can't smoke after a year? During the meeting I began to notice a routine of sharing and if someone spoke out of line from the Joys program someone was quick to reprimand and or speak up next in turn. One woman stated something that stuck out to me " I was told not to share at a meeting till I had completed the 12 steps for until then I didn't have a message to share"… hmm I find that strange, sometimes I need the raw, real message from someone struggling or just walking through the doors to remind me what it was like out there. But apparently those messages are for your sponsor and not for the meeting. I also on an occasion had a conversation with my sponsor about getting a coin because I had an anniversary coming up, but I was sadly told Joys doesn't do birthdays and it's suggested I don't get coins because that's what A.....'s sponsor had told her, and one day A........ wanted to pick up her one year birthday coin at a meeting and apparently relapsed several days later, its un-humble of our sobriety to get a coin is what that conversation amounted to, and we stay sober for today. Though for me getting a coin is for the newcomer today not for me, it's to show the newcomer that this works, so keep coming back and one day you will have a coin too! I believe this relapse had nothing to do with picking up a coin…. but the brainwashing aspect attached to it… I kept getting my coins like I saw so many others with great long term sobriety at other meetings. I also began to notice before going to the restroom people would wait till someone was done sharing, and then stand on the sides till a share was over to return to their seat. This reminds me of church though I'm sure it just goes back to discipline. This group also has a huge prudent reserve, and acquires a large amount of money, group business meeting seemed to have business set up outside the meeting before the group conscious but matters were still discussed for the formality. Like a hierarchy is taking care of business for the group… I was telling someone after the meeting about an affirmations book I had purchased at a rehab, it was Hazelden, I was told that was not AA approved literature and suggested to pick up a 24 hour a day book instead. When I went to smoke cigarettes outside none of the men would even acknowledge my presence, I didn't want "attention" it just seemed strange to carry on a conversation and not even say hello, or 'good morning' like a welcoming AA member would… There were small other incidences regarding this meeting as far as living out the Just for Today and dressing becomingly I was told from a friend a Joys woman saw their attire at a meeting and asked "why are we dressed for the bar". Joys homegroup members pride themselves on looking "presentable".

I only had a few meetings with this sponsor until enough was enough after doing different meetings and talking to other AAs this was not AA, and I'll never forget my final straw with Joys and their principles. I was 90 days plus clean and this woman never took me through a single step, I was reading Dr addict, alcoholic in the third edition BB which in the 4th edition is Acceptance was the answer every time we met…. To sum it up I was not being taken though the steps because according to Joys I was using alcohol in solid form, my non narcotic anti depressant. I read the medical view in AA in the appendix several times and in the Living Sober book, I saw nothing that I was doing wrong or against AA though it was against Joys, I was told that "this is the recipe for my cake and if you don't follow my directions (recipe) exactly I can't guarantee you my cake. Well I want my own fucking cake. I still want a cake, because I'm still an alcoholic but I want some chocolate freedom which I have earned now that I am not a slave to alcohol any longer. Apparently A....'s cake didn't entail me taking anti depressants, thank god I'm not bipolar or schizo affected because lord knows the 12 steps aren't gonna keep me from seeing dragons, but according to Joys I just don't "trust" enough.

According to Joys I have a watered down version of AA, I find this very sad, they're killing people with their methods. and I had a hard time breaking away from them like as though my sobriety wasn't good enough…. I now see a few newcomers at other meetings looking and acting like I did over a year ago. I was prideful to be a Joys member, knowing that I thought I worked the best of the best program, with prestige, and ettiquette. Though as being an alcoholic I find peace today knowing I am no better than or worse than, I am just another alcoholic. I have returned to their meeting on a few occasions this summer both the Wednesday meeting in Troy and Saturday meeting in Detroit and things have changed… there is an obvious number of people breaking away from this meeting mainly the women! There are roughly from what I can tell 3-5 female homegroup members meaning they lead back to Kristen in sponsorship lineage. As for her husband John I'm not sure who his sponsees are though I hear of a California man named Manny spoken of often who sponsors a few men there cascade style. Several of the women I once saw there no longer attend, thankfully they found a way out and are still sober; though a couple of them I'm not sure. I hope anyone who comes to this meeting goes to other meetings as well and can recognize this is NOT AA. That they may use the 12 steps but this is a dictatorship with their own principles and their own agenda. MANY people in our area are aware of them and refer newcomers else where they are not looked upon fondly and we try to keep our distance as long as they keep their meetings in their own bubble. Though it has been a challenge to share the message with those especially the young members who don't know any better culted by their program to see for THEMSELVES otherwise. This website is an excellent tool, I hope to see more blogs and advice from people recovering from a Joys experience in the Detroit area so we can share our experience on how to find a way out.”

(minor edits)

Comment: None needed. But all too familiar!

Cheerio

The Fellas (Friends of Alcoholics Anonymous)

PS Our usual thanks to our correspondent

AA Cults I Have Known

Does this all sound a bit familiar to you? Sure does to us!

Source: An article (reproduced in full) by Benjamin Aldo (pseudonym) appearing in The Fix (online magazine)

"AA Cults I Have Known 

Alcoholics Anonymous has long been vulnerable to a creeping fundamentalism with cult-like tendencies. One longtime member recounts his brushes with some pernicious corruptions of the fellowship.

A couple of years ago I went to the Atlantic Group in New York. It was springtime, and the moneyed Upper East Side was in full bloom. The AA meeting, known as AG, was holding its anniversary party. The large Christ Church on Park Avenue had members milling about in its courtyard, sipping the Starbucks coffee the group serves, a few smoking on the sidewalk. The men wore suits and ties. Inside, a beaming young woman offered me a name tag, and wished me luck in finding a seat. I knew the meeting was well attended, but the church was overflowing with members.

AG is well known in New York AA. Depending on who’s talking, it either represents “Real Recovery” or an off-putting, overly rigid interpretation of AA doctrine. AG members have strongly worded suggestions about sobriety: You should have a sponsor who has a sponsor who has gone through the 12 Steps with another AG member; when you speak at any AA meeting you should wear a suit and tie or the female equivalent; the use of anti-depressants is discouraged; and the use of profanity is not allowed during qualifications.

"It’s the difference between rape and sex. It’s technically the same, but the spirit of it is the difference between hell and heaven."

This big Tuesday night meeting is the social centerpiece of the AG way of life. It is structured with several minutes of introductory comments and news about the group from enthusiastic members standing at the altar, before the hundreds of members in pews. Then two newer members get up and share their stories of recovery for 15 minutes. And then comes the keynote speaker—vetted before the event—most usually a member practiced in entertaining large crowds. Afterwards there is a prayer, and a formal line-up to thank the three speakers for their service. Recordings of the speakers are available for purchase.

 

AG began in 1992 as an offshoot of the Pacific Group in Brentwood, California, which was founded by AA legend Clancy I., who got sober in 1958. Members of the Pacific Group often refer to PG as “the single biggest weekly AA meeting in the world”—a tellingly dubious claim, given that there are over 114,000 AA meetings worldwide.

PG has a reputation like that of AG, only more so. Adherents insist theirs is the only true path of recovery, and demean “AA lite”—groups that focus merely on drinking stories and complaints. Those who are uncomfortable with PG point to the insularity of the group, the rejection of AA members lacking enthusiasm for PG rules, and the notion of “better than” sobriety. As one regular AA member said, “If sobriety is grace, and grace is an undeserved gift, how can I be arrogant about this gift of sobriety?”

Another member had a harsher take. “It’s the difference between rape and sex. It’s technically the same, but the spirit of it is the difference between hell and heaven.”

Every year, to celebrate their anniversary, AG invites Clancy to speak at their meeting, hence the enormous crowd. On this evening, he told a story very familiar to AAs from the many tapes and conventions he has spoken at over the decades. He was entertaining, pausing for laughs and dramatic punctuation.

Midway, he used the word “goddamit.” A young man piped up from the balcony to say, “Excuse me Sir, we have no profanity at this meeting.” It was clear he was attempting a teasing tone. It was also clear he had misjudged the room. The enormous hall froze, not unlike in an abusive household when a child calls out their cruel father.

At that moment, as I fiddled with my name tag, I thought it would be a great chance to see long-term, revered sobriety in action. How would the man whose AA tapes had helped me stay sober 20 years earlier gracefully handle this interruption.

In the event, there was no empathy for the psychology of the newly sober young man. Instead, Clancy played to the crowd. He expertly waited a few beats of pin-dropping silence, then leaned in to the microphone and said, “Shut up Bitch.”

And then, hundreds of sober men and women burst into laughter. Some applauded, as if they were watching Louis CK take down a heckler. The young man turned bright red, and awkwardly raced out of the church. Of the several hundred attendees—many of whom claim to be “recovered” from alcoholism, and that their most important action each day is to “carry the message to the alcoholic who still suffers”—not one followed the young man outside. Instead, they turned their attention to Clancy and lapped up the rest of his honed speech, in which he assured the room that their brand of sobriety was more solid, more real and more lasting than any other.

 

Cults have leaders, deprive you of worldly goods, cut you off from family and friends, and demand an absolute devotion to their precepts. AG and PG only have the first and last of these attributes. But both the cult of personality—the near deification of Clancy and a handful of pretenders to the throne—and the insistence on one "true path" of sobriety are 12th-Step work at its worst, causing vulnerable men and women to be forever turned off the low-key, profoundly helpful AA meetings in the majority.

 

The Atlantic Group did not exist when I first got sober, but Clancy's moment of righteous wrongness reminded me of the beginning of my first AA meeting, which was held in the same district courtroom where I had been arraigned for attempted murder.

 

The banners with the Steps and Traditions were hanging on either side of the judge’s chair, which was occupied by my new probation officer. He was also the PO for the 30 other men scattered about the courtroom. Some of us were leaving the state prison system and transitioning back to society, while others were avoiding time in the county jail.

The PO, William Nagle, did most of the talking, speaking in the second person. He talked a little about his own drinking, and how he figured out a way to stop, and was now sober 20 years. He introduced a speaker who had been through his program; the man talked about his drug use, his jail time and how Nagle had saved his life. Despite it being called an AA meeting, there was no mention of AA, of the Steps or of recovery. The message was, “Once we were tough guys, doing bad things, now we are tough guys doing good things.”

We attended this meeting four times a week. On the judge’s bench, where the gavel had come down sentencing us to this program, was a sign that said, “The Honor Court is a privilege, not a punishment.”

Aside from the four meetings, we lived on the top floor of a flophouse on Main Street, and on my first day, after I signed my welfare check over, I was given $20 and told to buy some work clothes at the Salvation Army. We slept in a large room with a dozen bunk beds, and the days started at 5am, sweeping the streets or shoveling snow in winter, hauling trash, cleaning parks and delivering meals to shut-ins. On Sundays, we held a car wash in the parking lot of the same courthouse.

I raised my hand and shared that the meetings outside seemed different. I was immediately cut off: “That’s because those people are all faggots who never drank for real!"

Though Bill would scream at me every day, calling me an “ingrate” because of my scowl and lack of street-sweeping abilities, I quickly got used to the routine. It was summertime, and being outside doing manual labor with a bunch of thugs was a good distraction. We could all chain-smoke while we worked. Bill massaged the system so that an old DUI I had from Boston was thrown out, and the DMV arranged for a new driver’s license—my first in two years—so that I could be one of his drivers.

When anyone was defiant, they would be reminded that they could be sent directly to jail to serve out their sentences. A couple of members chose to return to jail, saying it was a better life inside, but I felt pretty lucky. Soon, 30 days had gone by, and for the first time in a decade I was a month clean and sober—at least physically.

I was 22 at the time, and the most depressing part of the program, other than being screamed at and having 1,000 hours of community service to work off, was the “AA” meetings. I assumed this was the way all AA and NA meetings were—a man who knew better than everyone raving about our transgressions, insisting that we become better and repeating that the only way to stop was to do what he said.

One day, a newer member invited me to a local AA meeting. We sat in a musty, smoky old basement, surrounded by people laughing and joking, smoking and hugging. Then everyone quieted down and a man stood up at a podium. He was very light in his delivery, and the room laughed easily. Then a young woman told her long, involved drinking story.

As we left early, to meet our house curfew, a man said he hoped we’d come back again. The difference from what I was used to was like night and day. Nobody yelled—and sobriety looked like it might be enjoyable.

At the next courtroom meeting, I raised my hand and shared that the meetings outside seemed different. I was immediately cut off by Bill, who screamed, “That’s because those people are all faggots who never drank for real! Next.”

The next day, between sweeping the streets and loading up the trucks to clear out the park, I sat smoking with two of the older members. One of them had the tattoo on his inner arm from a concentration camp, the other, in his 50s, was clearly mentally ill. I asked them how long they had been with Honor Court. Neither could quite remember. They said they had been homeless, and that Bill had saved their life. I asked when they would be leaving. They asked me, "Where would we go?"

I asked my lawyer how many of my thousand hours of community service had been paid off in the last month. I was called into Bill’s office (another sign on his desk said, “When I want your opinion I’ll give it to you”) and screamed at again.

“You think you’re better than anyone here, you’re not, you’re worse. By our count you’ve worked nine hours in the last four weeks. You’re not going anywhere.” I called my lawyer again, and after some negotiations, during which I was threatened with both serving my suspended sentence and extra time for a host of offenses, I was assigned a new PO and allowed to do the balance of my community service elsewhere.

It was clearly a shady operation—the welfare checks cashed right over to Nagle, the convenience of the town having clean streets and parks without paying salaries, the direct transfer of prisoners into the program, the institution of trusties and newbies, the casual threats of violence and jail time for non compliance and mainly the fact that the program was run by a very serious dry drunk who never let a day pass without screaming obscenities to at least one member of the crew.

The organization had nothing to do with AA beyond the use of the name to justify its existence to the court system (a parallel to the practice of court-mandated AA attendance). The entire entity rested on the character quirks of a man who had very real power over all of us. If that wasn’t a cult, it was certainly a cult of personality. This was borne out when Nagle died, and the organization crumbled very quickly, steeped in corruption and scandal, his legacy an office full of dodgy paperwork, court house connections without his pushy spirit, city contracts lacking his aggression and 30 men who were both disturbing and intimidating, on a good day, strolling the town’s streets with heavy brooms. 

The creep element of Honor Court was out for all the town to see: scowling convicts pushing brooms and pulling weeds. But later cults of personality I experienced were more pernicious still, thanks to their veneer of civility.

In 1990, I found a meeting on the King's Road in West London. I sat in the front row, and listened to a young man who announced there was no point in talking about his drinking because it was the program of recovery that mattered. It was essentially a lecture about the Steps, but the room lapped it up, and the shares all confirmed that his talk had been “brilliant.” I wondered about the efficiency of spirituality without context, but I was glad to be at a meeting.

Afterwards, an older man approached and introduced himself as David. He asked why I looked so miserable, appointed himself my sponsor and told me that I should stick with his AA group: The Joys of Recovery. He then told me if I did six things every day for 30 days—prayed, called him, read the Big Book etc.—he guaranteed me perfect happiness. He gave me a meeting list, circling some recommended meetings, and starring a few others that I should “avoid like the plague.”

There was an appeal in the smug superiority, the thought that I had gained access to AA's VIP room.

I followed his lead. At first the meetings seemed upbeat, friendly and very clear. They were also repetitive—the same people were repeatedly called on to share, who said that their drinking and early AA experience had been hopeless, but then they found The Joys of Recovery and life was wonderful. There was not a hint of struggle or complaint, and the occasional adversity was always framed with gratitude for the challenge. David and his acolytes uttered the same phrases at every meeting: “I never had a bad day since I stopped drinking,” and “Misery is optional.”

Soon, I noticed a focus on how the message was not being carried correctly away from Joys, how there was “light sobriety” and “real sobriety,” and how we needed to go out to regular AA meetings to "carry the message" to those in mainstream AA.

Another strongly worded suggestion was to avoid psychiatry and anti-depressants—“alcohol in solid form,” as David intoned.

I was still relatively new at the time, so there was an appeal in the smug superiority, the thought that I'd gained access to AA's VIP room, the shared certainty that this was the true path. I felt included and better-than—if not everyone else—then at least my former self. I couldn’t wait to go home and tell my sponsor how the program really worked.

David, I was soon impressed to learn, had founded Joys. He remained its genial godfather. He sponsored many members, who sponsored many others, and so on. His method of sponsoring consisted of sponsees calling him every day, and being told to pray and call him the next day. He insisted that life was "marvelous."

One evening, after yet another joyous Joys meeting, I sat at the coffee shop with David and half a dozen acolytes, and asked David, innocently, who his sponsor was. The table went very quiet. David explained that he'd had a very capable sponsor who had died—and that he had been set on the path and had all of us, his sponsees, to guide him. I didn’t have the presence of mind to point out that David himself always insisted that not having a sponsor meant that you were not really sober in AA. I was struck, though, at how all of us accepted his quickly-made point.

That evening David took me aside and told me it was time to work the Steps with him. I had known him for three weeks at this point. I had been taken through the Steps already, but he insisted that he could tell I needed more extensive step-work. He urged me to attend to it immediately, handing me an addendum he'd written on how to do the work properly. He suggested that I concentrate on the third part of the Fourth-Step inventory, where we examine our sex lives.

We met in David’s small flat, and he had me read a few pages, stopping me with pointed questions. He wanted to know mechanics: what I was most excited by, what my girlfriend liked, how often we had sex. I answered some of his questions, wondering why he was so interested. Then I suddenly realized that I was a 22-year-old man, being asked intrusive questions about my sex life by a 60-something-year-old stranger. In his home.

He may as well have been licking his lips and rubbing his palms together, as he interrupted me to offer more questions—not advice or suggestions or even, God forbid, his own experience, which it dawned on me extended to masturbatory voyeurism with the newly sober. I told him I was uncomfortable and that his motives were disturbing. He smiled a smile I'd seen before, and told me that my sobriety was in jeopardy if I didn’t marry my girlfriend and proceed to have children.

I started to object and he raised his hand. “I’ve forgotten more about AA than you will ever know,” he started to scream. “You know how lucky you are that I’m even talking to you! Your relationship with this girl is not sober.” And that was the end of that.

Later, at more reasonable meetings around London, it transpired that David and the Joys were well known. I went directly to all of the meetings David had told me were “sick.” Many stories were told: One member was cautioned to never share about her attempted suicide; another was told to put the equivalent of $20 in the basket; sponsees were urged to “vote with their sponsor,” at business meetings about AA policy.

One meeting in particular, the Monday night Pont Street Group (tucked behind Harrods), was filled with glamor and beauty all united by powerlessness. The meeting was also infested with Joys people—including David in his customary back-row chair. The Joys people would be called on to express their opinion of how AA should be, condemning the majority of the room for their failings. 

I asked one non-Joys regular why their behavior was tolerated: He told me they were harmless and needed help—and that in AA desperation gets us sober, but tolerance keeps us sober. “We might not be allowed to share in their meetings, but they are free to share in ours," he said. "You can tell they’re in pain, and if they ever want help, we can provide it.” So that was what being sober looked like. 

David died, and The Joys of Recovery became so shrouded in controversy that they changed their name (A Vision For You, The Big Book Study Group), and have migrated into Detroit and Ireland, though the Irish General Service Office of AA considered that off-shoot to be outside the structure of AA.

When I moved to New York 20 years ago, I knew just enough to stick to regular meetings. I heard about local versions of Joys, but they conveniently stayed in their own cocoons of self-congratulation—occasionally venturing out to speak in the second person and distribute complex step-work charts, amid curious claims of doing all 12 Steps every morning. As the years went by, most people in AA seemed to treat them like an anomaly—a cult-lite, if you will. 

One day, I happened upon a meeting called The Big Book Study Group. The meeting calls for a moderator—rather than a speaker—who shares their specific experience of going through the book with their sponsor. Three highlighter pens are used to denote sections that confuse, are agreeable and are disagreeable.

The meeting begins with the reading of a prayer, taped into the first page of the book. It is not an AA conference-approved prayer, and it calls for the suspension of judgment for the process of the group. The moderator then goes through each line in the book, offering explanations of the hidden meanings. If you ask one of these devotees to sponsor you, they will say they are "not a coffee-shop sponsor,” and that unless you are serious about your recovery, they will not be able to help you. I asked someone what the hell was going on, and they told me this was the Atlantic Group. They had migrated. 

As well as the Pacific Group, AG is linked to the abusive Midtown Group. Members now sit among us at more regular AA meetings. They have many tell-tale signs. One is that they call themselves “recovered alcoholics,” referring to the first hundred members of AA who described themselves as such, and forgetting that of those hundred at least 70 died drunk. When they speak at a meeting they always say, “My sponsor has a sponsor who has a sponsor who took him through the Steps as laid out in the Big Book.” They speak of being “God-powered,” of being “an alcoholic of the hopeless and doomed variety,” as if there were any other kind. They openly sneer at the oldest of AA notions—"Just don't drink and go to meetings,"—though for many alcoholics, myself included, that is often all that a newcomer can focus on. They use the phrase, “You’re not really sober if...“ and talk of being “transformed.” (Cue their nickname: “The Transformers.")

The ironies of these groups are legion. I’ve noticed one larger-than-usual cluster of members who came in after a season of drinking, at the age of 13 or 14. Nothing wrong with that, but being now “oldtimers” in their early 30s, they tend to lack empathy or experience for people who drank for years, missing the sense of fellowship that founded and informs all of AA. This false sense of a hierarchy lends itself to a patronizing charity on the part of sponsors, rather than the very spirit of the 12th Step—to keep our sobriety, we have to give it (our experience, strength and hope) away. In their faux-tough-guy, undeserved harshness "recovered" mentality there is a lack of the very kindness that first attracted me to AA. 

But there’s not a single person I’ve met in AA in 35 years who has the right to tell anyone what to do

Then there is that underlined, quoted and revered Big Book containing dozens of AA stories, the first qualifications in AA. Every story maintains a similar blueprint: an extensive history of drinking, followed by a brief happy ending. Not a single story in the four editions of the Big Book begins with the oft-expressed sentiment that "a drunkalogue is not worth your time, so let's just get on with the recovery." Neither do the stories laboriously recount step-work. So it follows that not one of those first hundred “recovered” members—nor any other Big Book contributor—would be vetted to speak at AG. The book contradicts the Transformers' central point.

Then there's the methodology—a repetition of homilies, a close reading of that book, and a strong suggestion, at times insistence, not to seek outside counsel, especially involving psychiatry or medications. One of Clancy's well-worn anecdotes is: "Yeah, I saw a shrink for a while. Every Wednesday night for years. He came to our meeting. Boy was he a mess." Cue laugh track.

More chronic alcoholics I have known have been attracted to AG's certainty, only to be disappointed by the robotic mantras and sponsors who offer assignments, rather than listen. One friend suggested it was because his sponsor lacked the ability to empathize with his experience as an alcoholic. How many alcoholics in need have turned up at these meetings, assumed this was the way AA meetings are really held, and walked away only to drink again? How much anti-12th-Step work has the Atlantic Group managed in the last two decades? For all the shock-tactic provenance-lacking statistics about AA (one in nine members stay sober, etc.), that's a number we can never know.

In sum, the Atlantic Group is as close to actual AA as the Honor Court or the Joys of Recovery. Indeed, it's referred to so much as "AG," that it seems divorced from the acronym it insists it has perfected.

But what position does AA's General Service Office take? Like a timid wife in an abusive household, the GSO invoke the Fourth Tradition whenever a complaint reaches them: "Each group is autonomous," they intone—not addressing the second clause of the tradition: "...except in matters affecting AA as a whole."

It may seem innocuous, especially to those who don’t rely on AA. But the real problem with these groups is that while they claim a monopoly on an excellence of sobriety—my powerlessness is better than yours—they are not technically AA meetings. They break most of the traditions (One, Two, Five, Eight, 10, 11 and 12—another article unto itself). They convolute the Steps. They make up their own prayers and they shred three of the AA Concepts (One, Five and 12).

I asked one AA member, who contributed a story to the most recent edition of the Big Book, why he always recounts his extensive drinking history when he speaks. He reminded me of what Bill wrote about our dynamic: “When one alcoholic has planted in the mind of another the true nature of his malady, he will never be the same again.”

He also reminded me of the reason that real AA worked for me—after antabuse, rehab, psychiatric hospital, jail, counselors and DUI class all failed. “I tell you what I do to stay sober. I suggest you do the same. But there’s not a single person I’ve met in AA in 35 years who has the right to tell anyone what to do. All we can do is tell you what we do.”

And that’s the difference. The better-than, slicked up, professional AA practice reminds me of all those professionals whose job it was to try to help me when I was desperate, with their clip-boards and quotas, legal threats and health warnings, their superficial concerns and patronizing smugness.

The creepiness of this approach came to an inevitable point in 2007, when the Washington Post and Newsweek reported on the Midtown Group—the Washington DC AA group led by Michael Quinones. According to police reports and press interviews, Quinones was a grand-sponsor who strongly discouraged members from seeking psychiatric help or taking anti-depressants. They did, however, encourage underage female members to sleep with middle-aged male members, including Quinones. The group was also known as The Q Group, after their leader. After the allegations came to light, several of the churches hosting their meetings ended their arrangements. It was a shocking story of sexual predation.

 

A remark from the man who sponsored Quinones was telling. According to the Washington Post, Clancy Imislund, managing director of Midnight Mission in LA, spoke directly about the situation. “There probably have been some excesses,” he said, “but they have helped more sober alcoholics in Washington than any other group by far.” Note that last jab at other AA meetings, and the shrug about what, in his state, would be legally considered statutory rape.

 

He continued, “It had been an issue [the sexual exploitation of teenage girls] but wherever you have a lot of young, neurotic people, they’re going to cling to each other.” Note the fault of those “young, neurotic people,” also known as newcomers seeking experience, strength and hope.

That Clancy, of course, is the same man who told a trembling newcomer at that packed AG meeting to “Shut up, Bitch.”

Amid all this ugliness, superiority and ego gratification, it’s helpful to return to AA’s history, the implementation of the traditions and concepts to ward off such aberrations of AA and to bear in mind that the founders, while very much human, knew what they were doing.

The last time Bill Wilson visited Dr. Bob, before he died, Bob’s final words to him were, “Let’s not louse this thing up. Let’s keep it simple.””

Related articles: 

Invasion of the Big Book Body Snatchers

Cult Culture and the 12 Steps

AA's Culture Clash: NYC vs. LA

The Dark Legacy of a Rehab Cult

Let's Stick to the Book in AA

Comment: None needed!

Cheers

The Fellas (Friends of Alcoholics Anonymous)

PS Our thanks to the member who helpfully pointed us in the direction of this article

A year or two with the Joys of Recovery

“In the mid 1990s I attended the Joys of recovery group in London for 1-2 years. My sponsor, who was a member of the group, insisted that I attend each week while we worked through the Steps. Though I was largely uncritical at the time, taking them and their practices at face value, some things did jar and stick in my memory.

Firstly, there seemed to be some kind of order of sharing: To share from the ‘body of the hall’ you had to raise your hand (like at school) and then be selected by the secretary. Each week the meeting would be attended by maybe 100 people, and there was no shortage of hands in the air when the opportunity arose to share. However, it was generally the same people who were picked, and, what’s more, they seemed to be chosen in pretty much the same order each week - first would come the grand old sponsors, then their sponsees, and so on down the chain. During the time I attended this meeting there were three secretaries, so you might expect them to have different ‘favourites,’ but this was not so, they all seemed to follow the same pattern.

The Joys of Recovery are fairly well known for a very upbeat style of sharing. Generally I found this unobjectionable except when any lone voice shared doubt, pain or confusion. This would inevitably be followed by an orgy of cross-talk, which was painful to hear. I vividly remember the harrowed look in one victim’s eyes when they hurried away at the end. They say ‘you never leave a meeting feeling worse than you went in.’ I doubt that was always true at the Joys of Recovery.

Regarding sharing: of particular interest to me was the subject of ‘what happened,’ as in ‘what it was like, what happened, and what it’s like now.’ Hearing AAs tell of the pivotal moments in their lives has been a privilege. I regard very highly the sharing of those lucid-moments, interventions, prayers, meetings, twists of fate, conversations and various rock-bottoms that lead us away from alcoholic drinking and into sobriety. It’s remarkable just how unique such things can be. At the Joys, though, there was an unusual degree of similarity in these shares. Each individual’s story seemed to centre around the phrase ‘and then I got a sponsor.’ Before finding a sponsor, life had been awful for them and after, life was wonderful. Before long I found it a bit spooky.

Sponsorship wasn’t just to be talked about. Each week, for the first few weeks of attending, I was asked at least once if I had a sponsor. My answer was always yes. However on one occasion a long-standing member of the group pointed out that a sponsor should be of a certain kind and suggested I might like to choose a new one. He only relented after being told who my sponsor was (a member of the group).

And what was my sponsor like? I count myself fortunate that: 1. I was already rooted in my own little corner of AA. 2. he was a fairly junior member of the group and not much longer sober than me. I suspect these factors mellowed his approach, as he wasn’t as extreme as many. Even so, I had to attend the group each week; Step Three was to be done with him, using the prayer in the Big Book, and on our knees; and Step Five was for his ears only. If memory serves, he always referred to his methods as ‘the Big Book way,’ even when his suggestions bore only a loose resemblance to those in the Big Book.

And myself? Well, I was sober before ever attending the Joys and have stayed sober since. There seems to be no shortage of meetings like the Joys of Recovery these days, but I rarely attend them - not more than once, anyway. Which is fine for me, but what of newcomers? There may be some good news here. A counsellor friend told me that most of her clients were burnt out ex-Joys members, who needed help to get over the experience. It’s an ill wind that blows no-one no good!

MH”

Cheers

The Fellas (Friends of Alcoholics Anonymous)

PS. Our thanks to our contributor

Cult dependency – How it DOESN'T Work!

“Hi ….....,

Thanks for your post mate, you have a good point. I will try to answer you as best I can.

There is a saying "The Truth will set you free". I certainly think this applies to cult involvement. The Truth is the one thing the Cult does not want to face. For example, in the Vision/Joys cult, the fact that the founder of the Cult movement in AA in this country, David B, didn’t have a sponsor, and repeatedly lied about this in his sharing right until his death. "I’m sober 22 years because I always do everything my sponsor says" he would to say to the newcomer. Well, yes, when you sponsor yourself I guess you do everything your sponsor says! lol. He used this confidence trick to lure and manipulate others into doing everything HE said. Thus the whole cult practice of sponsor-control is based upon a lie. Once you know this one fact alone, the entire Cult experience changes. At least it did for me. Self-evidently, a program founded upon a lie cannot be “spiritual”. What I encountered at Vision/Joys was psychological manipulation and bullying, not spirituality. That is a tough truth to face up to, partly because it affects my pride. "How can I have been so dumb as to fall for it" and “what a waste of my time, energy and good will”, were the questions that often went on in my mind at that time. However I learned through the study of Cults and their characteristics, and through the stories of others who had been involved in cults, that I was not alone.

Rather like alcohol or drug use, cult involvement satisfied a “need” or “emptiness” within me. It gave me a sense of euphoria (that is, “feeling good” via group approval, provided of course I followed the highly demanding cult script) and security (being part of a seemingly protective gang).

Human beings need to feel secure and feel good, especially if we are vulnerable, depressive, addicted, or have had poor or insecure upbringings. This is why a lot of disaffected young people join gangs, and is also, by the way, why a lot of younger people tend to be attracted to the cults/gangs within AA (you must have wondered why cult meetings tend to be dominated by young people and young men in particular?). However when these natural needs for security/belonging/self-worth etc become focused upon people, places and material things, then they are founded upon straw. The program of AA is a spiritual program, not a cult program. It suggests to us, simply, that what we should try to do is place an unreserved faith and trust in a Higher Power of our own understanding, not a human power, or thing. This is why reliance on groups and personalities is not spiritual at all, but psychological dependence, sometimes called co-dependency.

How can I really and inwardly be “happy joyous and free” – if my life is dependent upon the approval of a group, or a sponsor, or some other human agency? The kind of “happiness/freedom” - that a group gives me - is a fragile illusion, and is entirely fear driven. How can I be truly free if my every action has to be “permitted” by a sponsor, rather than my own conscience and faith in a Higher Power?

No, the only approval I need is from honestly consulting my own conscience. It also helps to have and develop a faith and trust in a loving Higher Power of my understanding, and a willingness to practice spiritual principles (honesty, truth, humility, patience, tolerance, love etc) in my life. These themes are repeated again and again in the Big Book and the other AA literature dealing with the steps and program of AA. AA gives me the true freedom of being able to choose my own Path in this regard. AA is not about co-dependency on a sponsor/personality/group/whatever, but reliance on a Higher Power which is, as the Big Book puts it, goodness and love. Don’t just take my word for it. Read the Book, it’s all there!

One of the sad things about cult involvement, in my experience, is that is obstructs my developing a real relationship with my own Higher Power. In cults, the Higher Power is always trumped by “sponsor” approval. Therefore, during my cult involvement, I became a slave of a man (sponsor), rather than a free child of the God my own understanding.

“The Truth will set you free…..” This is why I am currently going through David C Icons website, exposing it piece by piece, because it is full of distortions and deviations from the AA program. Although David C Icons talks glibly about “trusting a sponsor before his Higher Power”, his pride just can’t come to terms with the fact that his guru - the sponsorless David B – was an arrogant liar who was NOT to be trusted. So the advice given in the website is hypocrisy. All the other distortions and twists follow on from that.

Thanks for your stimulating post …...”.

(extract from aacultwatch forum - with permission)

Cheers

The Fellas (Friends of Alcoholics Anonymous)