Posted on January 20, 2026January 19, 2026 in beautyideals, beautystandards, beliefs, biology, bodyappreciation, bodyimage, culture, diet, dietculture, disorderedeating, education, exchristian, fatloss, fitness, fitnessjourney, fitspiration, health, history, holistic health, hormones, mental health, mentalhealth, metabolism, midlife, mindset, misinformation, multilevelmarketing, nuance, nutrition, nutritionadvice, nutritionalscience, podcast, research, self-help, selfcompassion, socialmediainfluence, stress, thyroid health, trauma, wellness, womenshealth

When Discipline Stops Working

What Women Were Never Told About Weight, Aging, and Control

The Science They Never Told Us

This is the first episode of 2026, and I wanted to start the year by slowing things down, getting a bit personal instead of chasing the latest talking points.

At the end of last year, I spent time reading a few books that genuinely stopped me in my tracks. Not because they offered a new diet or a new protocol, but because they challenged something much deeper: the story we’ve been told about discipline, control, and women’s bodies.

There is a reason women’s bodies change across the lifespan. And it has very little to do with willpower, discipline, or personal failure.

In Why Women Need Fat, evolutionary biologists William Lassek and Steven Gaulin make the case that most modern conversations about women’s weight are fundamentally misinformed. Not because women are doing something wrong, but because we’ve built our expectations on a misunderstanding of what female bodies are actually designed to do.

A major part of their argument focuses on how industrialization radically altered the balance of omega-6 to omega-3 fatty acids in the modern food supply, particularly through seed oils and ultra-processed foods. They make a compelling case that this shift plays a role in rising obesity and metabolic dysfunction at the population level.

I agree that this imbalance matters, and it’s a topic that deserves its own full episode. At the same time, it does not explain every woman’s story. Diet composition can influence metabolism, but it cannot override prolonged stress, illness, hormonal disruption, nervous system dysregulation, or years of restriction. In my own case, omega-6 intake outside of naturally occurring sources is relatively low and does not account for the changes I’ve experienced. That matters, because it reminds us that biology is layered. No single variable explains a complex adaptive system.

One of the most important ideas in the book is that fat distribution matters more than fat quantity.

Women do not store fat the same way men do. A significant portion of female body fat is stored in the hips and thighs, known as gluteofemoral fat. This fat is metabolically distinct from abdominal or visceral fat. It is more stable, less inflammatory, and relatively enriched in long-chain fatty acids, including DHA, which plays a key role in fetal brain development.

From an evolutionary standpoint, this makes sense. Human infants are born with unusually large, energy-hungry brains. Women evolved to carry nutritional reserves that could support pregnancy and lactation, even during times of scarcity. In that context, having fat on your lower body was not a flaw or a failure. It was insurance.

From this perspective, fat is not excess energy. It is deferred intelligence, stored in anticipation of future need. This is where waist-to-hip ratio enters the conversation.

Across cultures and historical periods, a lower waist-to-hip ratio in women has been associated with reproductive health, metabolic resilience, and successful pregnancies. This is not about thinness, aesthetics, or moral worth. It is about fat function, not fat fear, and about how different tissues behave metabolically inside the body. It is about where fat is stored and how it functions.

And in today’s modern culture we have lost that distinction.

Instead of asking what kind of fat a woman carries, we became obsessed with how much. Instead of understanding fat as tissue with purpose, we turned it into a moral scoreboard. Hips became a problem. Thighs became something to shrink. Curves became something to discipline.

Another central idea in Why Women Need Fat is biological set point.

The authors argue that women’s bodies tend to defend a natural weight range when adequately nourished and not under chronic stress. When women remain below that range through restriction, over-exercise, or prolonged under-fueling, the body does not interpret that as success. It interprets it as threat.

Over time, the body adapts, not out of defiance, but out of protection.

Metabolism slows. Hunger and fullness cues become unreliable. Hormonal systems compensate. When the pressure finally eases, weight often rebounds, sometimes beyond where it started, because the body is trying to restore safety.

From this perspective, midlife weight gain, post-illness weight gain, or weight gain after years of restriction is not mysterious. It is not rebellion. It is regulation.

None of this is taught to women.

Instead, we are told that if our bodies change, we failed. That aging is optional. That discipline and botox should override biology. That the number on the scale tells the whole story.

So, before we talk about culture, family, trauma, or personal experience, this matters:

Women’s bodies are not designed to stay static.
They are designed to adapt.

Once you understand that, everything else in this conversation changes.

Why the Body Became the Battlefield

This is where historian Joan Jacobs Brumberg’s work in The Body Project: An Intimate History of American Girls, provides essential context, but it requires some precision.

Girls have not always been free from shame. Shame itself is not new. What has changed is what women are taught to be ashamed of, and how that shame operates in daily life.

Brumberg asks a question that still feels unresolved today:
Why is the body still a girl’s nemesis? Shouldn’t sexually liberated girls feel better about themselves than their corseted counterparts a century ago?

Based on extensive historical research, including diaries written by American girls from the 1830s through the 1990s, Brumberg shows that although girls today enjoy more formal freedoms and opportunities, they are also under more pressure and at greater psychological risk. This is due to a unique convergence of biological vulnerability and cultural forces that turned the adolescent female body into a central site of social meaning during the twentieth century.

In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, girls did not typically grow up fixated on thinness, calorie control, or constant appearance monitoring. Their diaries were not filled with measurements or food rules. Instead, they wrote primarily about character, self-restraint, moral development, relationships, and their roles within family and community.

One 1892 diary entry reads:

“Resolved, not to talk about myself or feelings. To think before speaking. To work seriously. To be self-restrained in conversation and in actions. Not to let my thoughts wander. To be dignified. Interest myself more in others.”

In earlier eras, female shame was more often tied to behavior, sexuality, obedience, and virtue. The body mattered, but primarily as a moral symbol rather than an aesthetic project requiring constant surveillance and correction.

That changed dramatically in the twentieth century.

Brumberg documents how the mother-daughter connection loosened, particularly around menstruation, sexuality, and bodily knowledge. Where female relatives and mentors once guided girls through these transitions, doctors, advertisers, popular media, and scientific authority increasingly stepped in to fill that role.

At the same time, mass media, advertising, film, and medicalized beauty standards created a new and increasingly exacting ideal of physical perfection. Changing norms around intimacy and sexuality also shifted the meaning of virginity, turning it from a central moral value into an outdated or irrelevant one. What replaced it was not freedom from scrutiny, but a different kind of pressure altogether.

By the late twentieth century, girls were increasingly taught that their bodies were not merely something they inhabited, but something they were responsible for perfecting.

A 1982 diary entry captures this shift starkly:

“I will try to make myself better in any way I possibly can with the help of my budget and baby-sitting money. I will lose weight, get new lenses, already got a new haircut, good makeup, new clothes and accessories.”

What changed was not the presence of shame, but its location. Shame moved inward.

Rather than being externally enforced through rules and prohibitions, it became self-policed. Girls were taught to monitor themselves constantly, to evaluate their bodies from the outside, and to treat appearance as the primary expression of identity and worth.

Brumberg is explicit on this point. The fact that American girls now make their bodies their central project is not an accident or a cultural curiosity. It is a symptom of historical changes that are only beginning to be fully understood.

This is where more recent work, such as Louise Perry’s The Case Against the Sexual Revolution, helps extend Brumberg’s analysis into the present moment. Perry argues that while sexual liberation promised autonomy and empowerment, it often left young women navigating powerful biological and emotional realities without the social structures that once offered protection, guidance, or meaning. In that vacuum, the body became one of the few remaining sites where control still seemed possible.

The result is a paradox. Girls are freer in theory, yet more burdened in practice. The body, once shaped by communal norms and shared female knowledge, becomes a solitary project, managed under intense cultural pressure and constant comparison.

For many girls, this self-surveillance does not begin with magazines or social media. It begins at home, absorbed through tone, comments, and modeling from the women closest to them.

Brumberg argues that body dissatisfaction is often transmitted from mother to daughter, not out of cruelty, but because those mothers inherited the same aesthetic anxieties. Over time, body shame becomes a family inheritance, passed down quietly and persistently.

Some mothers transmit it subtly.

Others do it bluntly.

This matters not because my experience is unique, but because it illustrates what happens when a body shaped by restriction, stress, and cultural pressure is asked to perform indefinitely. Personal stories are often dismissed as anecdotal, but they are where biological theory meets lived reality.

If you want to dive deeper into this topic:

From Diary Entries to Digital Screens: How Beauty Ideals and Sexualization Have Transformed Over Time

Where It All Began: The Messages That Shape Us

I grew up in a household where my body was not simply noticed. It was scrutinized, compared, and commented on. Comments like that do not fade with time. They shape how you see yourself in mirrors and photographs. They teach you that your body must be managed and monitored. They plant the belief that staying small is the price of safety.

So, I grew up believing that if I could control my body well enough, I could avoid humiliation. I could avoid becoming the punchline. I could avoid being seen in the wrong way.

For a while, I turned that fear into discipline.

The Years Before the Collapse: A Lifetime of Restriction and Survival

Food never felt simple for me. Long before bodybuilding, chronic pain, or COVID, I carried a strained relationship with eating. Growing up in a near constant state of anxiety meant that hunger cues often felt unpredictable. Eating was something to plan around or push through. It rarely felt intuitive or easy.

Because of this, I experimented with diets that replaced real meals with cereal or shakes. I followed plans like the Special K diet. I relied on Carnation Instant Breakfast instead of full meals. My protein intake was low. My fear of gaining weight was high. Restriction became familiar.

Top left is when I started working out obsessively at age 16, top right and bottom photo are from middle school when I was at my “heaviest” that drove the disordered behaviors.

In college, I became a strict vegetarian out of compassion for animals, but I did not understand how to meet my nutritional needs. I was studying dietetics and earning personal training certifications while running frequently and using exercise as a way to maintain control. From the outside, I looked disciplined. Internally, my relationship with food and exercise remained tense and inconsistent.

Later, I became involved in a meal-replacement program through an MLM. I replaced two meals a day with shakes and practiced intermittent fasting framed as “cleanse days.” In hindsight, this was structured under-eating presented as wellness. It fit seamlessly into patterns I had lived in for years.

Eating often felt overwhelming. Cooking felt like a hurdle. Certain textures bothered me. My appetite felt fragile and unreliable. This sensory sensitivity existed long before the parosmia that would come years later. From early on, food was shaped by stress rather than nourishment.

During this entire period, I was also on hormonal birth control, first the NuvaRing and later the Mirena IUD, for nearly a decade. Long-term hormonal modulation can influence mood, inflammation, appetite, and weight distribution. It added another layer of complexity to a system already under strain.

Looking back, I can see that my teens and twenties were marked by near constant restriction. Restriction felt normal. Thriving did not.

The book Why Women Need Fat discusses the idea of a biological weight “set point,” the range a body tends to return to when conditions are stable and adequately nourished. I now understand that I remained below my natural set point for years through force rather than balance. My biology never experienced consistency or safety.

This was the landscape I carried into my thirties.

The Body I Built and the Body That Broke

By the time I entered the bodybuilding world in 2017 and 2018, I already had years of chronic under-eating, over-exercising, and nutrient gaps behind me. Bodybuilding did not create my issues. It amplified them.

I competed in four shows. People admired the discipline and the physique. Internally, my body was weakening. I was overtraining and undereating. By 2019, my immune system began to fail. I developed severe canker sores, sometimes twenty or more at once. I started noticing weight-loss resistance. Everything I had done in the past, was no longer working. On my thirty-fifth birthday, I got shingles. My energy crashed. My emotional bandwidth narrowed. My body was asking for rest, but I did not know how to slow down.

Dive deeper into my body building journey here:

Fit for TV: How Screens, Diet Culture, and Reality Shows Rewire Our Bodies and Minds

Around this time, I was also navigating eating disorder recovery. Learning how to eat without panic or rigid control was emotionally exhausting even under ideal circumstances… but little did I know things were about to take a massive turn for the worst.

COVID, Sensory Loss, and the Unraveling of Appetite

After getting sick with the ‘vid late 2020, everything shifted again. I developed parosmia, a smell and taste distortion that made many foods taste rotten or chemical. Protein and cooked foods often tasted spoiled. Herbs smelled like artificial chemical. Eating became distressing and, at times, impossible.

My appetite dropped significantly. There were periods where my intake was very low, yet my weight continued to rise. This is not uncommon following illness or prolonged stress. The body often shifts into energy conservation, prioritizing survival overweight regulation.

Weight gain became another source of grief. Roughly thirty pounds over the next five years. I feel embarrassed and avoid photographs. I often worry about how others will perceive me.

If this experience resonates, it is important to say this clearly: your body is not betraying you. It is responding to stress, illness, and prolonged strain in the way bodies are designed to respond.

Untangling the Threads of Chronic Pain, Trauma, and Healing

Why Women’s Bodies Adapt Instead of “Bounce Back”

When years of restriction, intense exercise, chronic stress, illness, hormonal shifts, and emotional trauma accumulate, the body often enters a protective state. Metabolism slows. Hormonal signaling shifts. Hunger cues become unreliable. Weight gain or resistance to weight loss can occur even during periods of low intake, because energy regulation is being driven by survival physiology rather than simple calorie balance.

This is not failure. It is physiology.

The calories-in, calories-out model does not account for thyroid suppression, nervous system activation, sleep disruption, pain, trauma, or metabolic adaptation. It reduces a complex biological system to arithmetic.

Women are not machines. We are adaptive systems built for survival. Sometimes resilience looks like holding onto energy when the body does not feel safe.

Metabolism Myths: Why Dieting Fails

The Systems That Reinforce Shame

Despite this biological reality, we live in a culture that ties women’s value to discipline and appearance. When women gain weight, even under extreme circumstances, we blame ourselves before questioning the system.

Diet culture frames shrinking as virtue.

Toxic positivity encourages acceptance without context.

Industrial food environments differ radically from those our ancestors evolved in.

Medical systems often dismiss women’s pain and metabolic complexity.

Social media amplifies comparison and moralizes body size.

None of this is your fault. And all of it shapes your experience.

This is why understanding the science matters. This is why telling the truth matters. This is why sharing stories matters.

Beyond the Before-and-After: The Truth About Social Media and Body Image

In the book, More Than a Body, Lindsay and Lexie Kite describe how women are taught to relate to themselves through constant self-monitoring. Instead of living inside our bodies, we learn to watch ourselves from the outside. We assess how we look, how we are perceived, and whether our bodies are acceptable in a given moment.

This constant self-surveillance does real harm. It pulls attention away from hunger, pain, fatigue, and intuition. It trains women to override bodily signals in favor of appearance management. And over time, it creates a split where the body is treated as a project to control rather than a system to understand or care for.

When you layer this kind of self-objectification on top of chronic stress, restriction, illness, and trauma, the result is not empowerment. It is disconnection. And disconnection makes it even harder to hear what the body needs when something is wrong.

Weight gain is not just a biological response. It becomes a moral verdict. And that is how women end up fighting bodies that are already struggling to keep them alive.

The Inheritance Ends Here

For a long time, I believed that breaking generational cycles only applied to mothers and daughters. I do not have children, so I assumed what I inherited would simply end with me, unchanged.

Brumberg’s work helped me see this differently.

What we inherit is not passed down only through parenting. It moves through tone, silence, and self-talk. It appears in how women speak about their bodies in front of others. It lives in the way shame is normalized.

I inherited a legacy of body shame. Even on the days when I still feel its weight, I am choosing not to repeat it.

For me, the inheritance ends with telling the truth about this journey and refusing to speak to my body with the same cruelty I absorbed growing up. It ends here.

Closing the Circle: Your Body Is Not Broken

I wish I could end this with a simple story of resolution. I cannot. I am still in the middle of this. I still grieve. I still struggle with eating and movement. I am still learning how to inhabit a body that feels unfamiliar.

But I know this: my body is not my enemy. She is not malfunctioning. She is adapting to a lifetime of stress, illness, restriction, and emotional weight.

If you are in a similar place, I hope this offers permission to stop fighting yourself and start understanding the patterns your body is following. Not because everything will suddenly improve, but because clarity is often the first form of compassion.

Your body is not betraying you. She is trying to keep you here.

And sometimes the most honest thing we can do is admit that we are still finding our way.

References

Brumberg, J. J. (1997). The Body Project: An Intimate History of American Girls. Random House.
Lassek, W. D., & Gaulin, S. J. C. (2011). Why Women Need Fat: How “Healthy” Food Makes Us Gain Excess Weight and the Surprising Solution to Losing It Forever. Hudson Street Press.
Kite, L., & Kite, L. (2020). More Than a Body: Your Body Is an Instrument, Not an Ornament. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

Scientific and academic sources

Lassek, W. D., & Gaulin, S. J. C. (2006). Changes in body fat distribution in relation to parity in American women. Evolution and Human Behavior, 27(3), 173–185.
Lassek, W. D., & Gaulin, S. J. C. (2008). Waist–hip ratio and cognitive ability. Proceedings of the Royal Society B, 275(1644), 193–199.
Dulloo, A. G., Jacquet, J., & Montani, J. P. (2015). Adaptive thermogenesis in human body-weight regulation. Obesity Reviews, 16(S1), 33–43.
Fothergill, E., et al. (2016). Persistent metabolic adaptation after weight loss. Obesity, 24(8), 1612–1619.
Kyle, U. G., et al. (2004). Body composition interpretation. American Journal of Clinical Nutrition, 79(6), 955–962.
Simopoulos, A. P. (2016). Omega-6/omega-3 balance and obesity risk. Nutrients, 8(3), 128.

Trauma, stress, and nervous system context

Sapolsky, R. M. (2004). Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers. Henry Holt and Company.
Walker, P. (2013). Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving. Azure Coyote Books.

Posted on July 26, 2025 in americanpolitics, coercivecontrol, manipulation, medicalconsequences, mental health, mentalhealth, mentalhealthindustry, nuance, politics, progressiveleft, socialjustice, therapy, therapyharm, trauma, trump

When “Helping the Homeless” Becomes a Trojan Horse

Why Trump’s new executive order deserves close scrutiny

President Trump signed an executive order on July 24, 2025, calling on states and cities to clear homeless encampments and expand involuntary psychiatric treatment, framed as a move to improve public safety and compassion

At first glance, it seems reasoned: address the homelessness crisis in many progressive cities, restore order, & help those with severe mental illness. But when I read it closely, and the language….phrases like “untreated mental illness,” “public nuisance,” and “at risk of harm”is vague enough, subjective enough, and feels ripe for misuse 😳

This goes beyond homelessness. It marks a shift toward normalizing forced institutionalization, a trend with deep roots in American psychiatric history.

We explored this dark legacy in a recent episode, Beneath the White Coats 🥼 and if you listened to that episode, you’ll know that

compulsory commitment isn’t new.

Historically, psychiatric institutions in the U.S. served not just medical needs but social control. Early 20th-century asylums housed the poor, the racially marginalized, and anyone deemed “unfit.”

The International Congress of Eugenics’ Logo 1921

The eugenics movement wasn’t a fringe ideology….it was supported by mainstream medical groups, state law, and psychiatry. Forced sterilization, indefinite confinement, and ambiguous diagnoses like “moral defectiveness” were justified under the guise of public health.

Now, an executive order gives local governments incentives (and of course funding 💰 is always tied to compliance) to loosen involuntary commitment laws and redirect funding to those enforcing anti-camping and drug-use ordinances instead of harm reduction programs

Once states rewrite their laws to align with the order’s push toward involuntary treatment and if “public nuisance” or “mental instability” are to be interpreted broadly…

Now, you don’t have to be homeless to be at risk. A public disturbance, a call from a neighbor, even a refusal to comply with treatment may trigger involuntary confinement.

Is it just me, or does this feel like history is repeating?

We’ve seen where badly defined psychiatric authority leads: disproportionate targeting, loss of civil rights, and institutionalization justified as compassion. Today’s executive order could enable a similar expansion of psychiatric control.

So.. what do you think? Is this just a homelessness policy? or is it another slippery slope?

Posted on February 13, 2025 in americanpolitics, beliefs, biblicalworldview, commericalcults, conspiracies, cultoffitness, cults, deconstruction, dietculture, exchristian, faith, fitness, freedom, manipulation, mental health, misinformation, podcast, politics, progressives, religion, scripture, self-help, selfcompassion, socialmedia, spiritualabuse, testimonies, theology, wellness, wordofgod, worldview

Why Challenging Beliefs Feels Like a Personal Attack—And Why It Shouldn’t

From religion to politics, why deeply held beliefs trigger defensiveness, outrage, and even hostility—and how we can foster better conversations.

We all have seen how the internet seems to bring out everyone’s inner troll. 🧌

The moment a deeply held belief—whether religious or political—is questioned, people lash out with hostility, aggression, or outright rage. Why does this happen? Why do some people react as if their very identity is under attack?

This past summer, we sat down with Dr. Mark Gregory Karris to explore religious trauma, belief deconstruction, and the psychological grip of fundamentalist ideology.

This season on Taste of Truth, we have been expanding the conversation—because this isn’t just about religion. Political ideologies, social movements, and even scientific debates can trigger the same defensive responses.

Fundamentalist thinking—whether in religion or politics—creates a fear-driven, us-vs-them mentality.

At its most basic, the allure of fundamentalism, whether religious or ideological, liberal or conservative, is that it provides an appealing order to things that are actually disorderly. -Peter Mountford

This hits at something crucial that I’ve written about numerous times before: the human brain craves order, even in the face of chaos. The illusion of control is a powerful psychological driver, and our brains reward it with dopamine. Fundamentalist thinking offers a structured, black-and-white framework that feels safe and predictable, making it incredibly appealing—especially in times of uncertainty. It’s why people cling even harder to rigid beliefs when they feel threatened. Whether in faith or politics, the need for certainty can override openness to new information, leading to the defensive reactions we see when those beliefs are questioned.

The moment someone questions the “truth,” it’s perceived as an existential threat, triggering anxiety, cognitive dissonance, and sometimes outright hostility.

Take a look at the patterns:

Verbal Attacks: When someone questions a core belief, the response can be insults, shouting, or belittling. For example, in religious circles, someone questioning doctrine might be labeled a heretic, while in political spaces, dissenters might be called traitors or bigots.
Social Ostracism: In both fundamentalist religious and political groups, those who challenge the status quo risk being shunned, excommunicated, or “canceled.” A former churchgoer who deconstructs their faith may be cut off from their community, just as someone who questions ideological orthodoxy in politics might lose social standing, friendships, or even career opportunities.
Online Harassment: Social media amplifies these reactions. Question a sacred political narrative? Expect dogpiling. Challenge a religious doctrine? Brace yourself for moral outrage. The internet rewards ideological purity and punishes deviation.
Physical Aggression: In extreme cases, questioning or challenging deeply held beliefs can escalate to threats or violence. History is littered with examples—holy wars, political purges, ideological revolutions—all stemming from the belief that certain ideas must be defended at any cost.

This isn’t just about bad behavior—it’s about psychology. When beliefs become intertwined with identity, disagreement feels like a personal attack. Fundamentalist teachings—whether religious or ideological—reinforce this by instilling fear of deviation:

Fear of Deviation – Straying from the accepted belief system is framed as dangerous, whether it’s framed as spiritual damnation or societal collapse.
Cognitive Dissonance – Encountering opposing viewpoints creates internal discomfort, making people double down rather than reconsider.
Fear of Consequences – Whether it’s eternal hellfire or being cast out by one’s political tribe, the cost of questioning is framed as too high.
Identity Threat – When beliefs define self-worth, changing one’s mind feels like losing a part of oneself.
Social Pressure – Communities reinforce conformity, and breaking from the group’s ideology invites punishment.

When Morality Binds and Blinds

In The Righteous Mind, Jonathan Haidt explains how moral systems don’t just guide our sense of right and wrong—they also bind us to our tribes and blind us to opposing perspectives. Morality evolved not just to help individuals make ethical choices but to reinforce group cohesion. When we share a moral framework with others, it strengthens social bonds and builds trust. But there’s a cost: once we’re deeply embedded in a moral community—whether religious, political, or ideological—we stop seeing outside perspectives clearly.

This is why people react with such hostility when their beliefs are challenged. They aren’t just defending a set of ideas; they’re defending their sense of identity, belonging, and moral righteousness. A challenge to the belief feels like a challenge to the self—and to the entire group they’re part of.

This also explains why fundamentalist thinking isn’t confined to religion. Political movements, activist groups, and even secular ideologies can exhibit the same rigid certainty, group loyalty, and hostility toward outsiders. The more a belief system becomes tied to identity, the more resistant it is to change—and the more aggressive the response when it’s questioned.

The antidote? Intellectual humility. The ability to recognize that our beliefs, no matter how deeply held, might be flawed. That truth-seeking requires engaging with discomfort. That real conversations happen not when we dig in our heels but when we’re willing to ask, What if I’m wrong?

These dynamics explain why deconstruction—whether of faith or political ideology—often leads to intense backlash. It also reminds me of our conversation with Neil Van Leeuwen, author of Religion as Make-Believe. He pointed out that factual beliefs thrive on evidence, but religious and ideological beliefs function differently. When a belief becomes part of group identity, truth often takes a backseat. In fact, sometimes falsehoods serve the group better because they reinforce belonging.

To close down the conversation, let’s talk about healthy communities—whether religious, political, or social—embrace intellectual humility. Here’s what that looks like:

Open Dialogue: Encouraging respectful conversations where differing perspectives are explored rather than attacked.
Supportive Community: Allowing for questions, doubts, and evolving beliefs without fear of punishment.
Personal Reflection: Cultivating a mindset that prioritizes growth over ideological purity.
Interdisciplinary Engagement: Seeking insights from multiple fields rather than reinforcing an echo chamber.

By recognizing these patterns, we can navigate our own beliefs with more self-awareness and engage in discussions that foster curiosity rather than hostility. The question isn’t whether we hold tightly to certain beliefs—it’s whether we’re willing to interrogate why.

So, what’s one belief you’ve held onto tightly that you later questioned?

Let’s talk about it in the comments.

Posted on December 22, 2024December 22, 2024 in americanpolitics, Bible, biblicalworldview, challenges, christianfaith, christianpatriarchy, cults, deconstruction, faith, freedom, historicalfigures, influencers, JesusChrist, manipulation, mental health, mentalhealth, misinformation, MLMS, mormoninfluencers, newagetojesus, nuance, nutrition, nutritionalscience, physiology, podcast, politics, progressives, pseudoscience, religion, scams, science, socialjustice, socialmedia, trad wife, trauma, trump, worldview

Oh, Woke Night: The New Sacred Beliefs of the Left

A Journey from Cults to Cancel Culture

What’s a racist, homophobe, sexist, bigot, or hater?
Apparently, anyone winning an argument with a liberal these days.

This year has been a wild ride. It began with me terrified of Satan, demons, and the Apocalypse, only to be ending it realizing the real danger isn’t hellfire—it’s the dogmas we create here on Earth. I didn’t grow up religious. In fact, I was raised secular, moved to Portland, OR after college, and could give you a TED Talk on progressive ideals. But then the pandemic hit, and somewhere between sourdough starters and doomscrolling, I found myself deep in the throes of fundamentalist Christianity.

That’s right—I started the year in a cult. It took months to deconstruct my faith, peel back the layers of fear-based control, and reimagine spirituality beyond the man-made monotheistic God I was sold. Yet, just as I was catching my breath, I noticed something chilling: the same patterns of zealotry I had fled were alive and well in the secular world.

Wokeness, with its sermons on systemic oppression and sacraments of allyship, has become the new secular religion. It demands unwavering faith, punishes heretics, and offers little room for redemption. And just like the fire-and-brimstone preachers I’d left behind, its most fervent believers seem less interested in dialogue and more intent on moral superiority.

Thought leaders like John McWhorter (Woke Racism), Yasmine Mohammed (Unveiled), and Douglas Murray (The Madness of Crowds) have drawn the same parallels: woke ideology mirrors religious extremism, complete with its own prophets and purges. And as someone who’s lived through both kinds of radicalism, I’m here to tell you—it’s not just unsettling; it’s dangerous.

How woke ideology mirrors religious extremism

In my podcast episode titled Faith Unbound: Navigating the Process of Disentanglement—or rather, Deconversion—I delved into my initial discovery of the Ex-evangelical Christian network. Back in February 2024, it felt like a lifeline, a safe haven for questioning my former religious beliefs. But after 6–7 months of immersion, patterns began to emerge. While the movement has been instrumental for many, I couldn’t ignore the creeping rigidity and tribalism. The hunger for certainty, the need to be on the “right side,” often replaces one dogma with another.

A striking example of this surfaced in Sexvangelicals’ episode How to Do Social Justice This Election Season Without Being a Jackass. They state:

“November’s presidential election offers a stark contrast between two types of government. One is democracy, built on the idea that many people have voices and, ideally, a government that serves a broad population. The other is autocracy, which operates on the belief that only a few have a say. Autocracies, like the 2024 Republican Party, often communicate through tactics such as blame, repression, and fear-mongering. In our latest episode, we discuss common communication strategies used by autocracies and how progressives and pro-democracy voters can avoid responding in ways that reinforce jackassdom.”

My response? “It’s not your enemies, it’s the system.” This narrative reduces a complex political landscape into a simplistic moral battle, with one side as saviors of democracy and the other as agents of autocracy. But this dichotomy misses the bigger picture. Who really shapes policy in America?

A 2014 study by Martin Gilens and Benjamin Page, often dubbed the “Oligarchy Study,” analyzed policy decisions across two decades. It revealed that elites and organized interest groups wield disproportionate influence over government decisions, while the average citizen’s impact is negligible. This stark reality transcends partisan politics and lays bare a systemic issue: power isn’t held by the left or right—it’s concentrated in the hands of those who profit from our division.

By framing every election as a battle for democracy versus tyranny, we’re falling into the trap of distraction. The real question isn’t, “Which side am I on?” but, “Who benefits from keeping me here, fighting, and not looking beyond this binary?”

The claim that the Republican Party represents an autocracy, as made by Sexvangelicals, is not just simplistic—it’s laughably disconnected from reality. To label one political party as authoritarian while ignoring the bipartisan complicity in maintaining an oligarchic system is either naïve or willfully ignorant.

Take the oligarchic nature of U.S. politics. Both major parties have long benefited from the concentration of wealth and power at the top. Consider the case of former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, whose net worth has ballooned through stock trades that suspiciously align with her legislative influence. Or Barack Obama (Barry Soetoro), who went from public servant to multi-millionaire, cashing in on book deals, speaking engagements, and lucrative partnerships with Netflix after leaving office.

Then there’s President Joe Biden. While progressives champion him as a defender of democracy, his record is far from pristine. Most recently, questions surrounding his son Hunter Biden’s international business dealings—spanning over a decade—have drawn scrutiny. Hunter’s alleged tax evasion and unregistered foreign lobbying have raised concerns, yet he continues to receive leniency from the justice system.

This isn’t to excuse Republicans from criticism, but the suggestion that they alone embody authoritarian tendencies is absurd when Democrats have equally reaped the rewards of an oligarchic system. Both parties serve the interests of economic elites and organized lobbyists far more faithfully than they do the average voter.

The Magnet, from *Puck*, 1911.(Udo J. Keppler / Library of Congress)

The bipartisan reality of the oligarchy dismantles the “democracy versus autocracy” narrative. For instance, the same Gilens and Page study cited earlier reveals that the preferences of the bottom 90% of income earners have statistically no impact on policy outcomes. Meanwhile, corporate donors and lobbying groups continue to hold sway over legislation regardless of which party is in power.

By framing Republicans as the sole villains in this story, Sexvangelicals perpetuates the kind of shallow tribalism that fuels division while leaving the real culprits—wealthy elites and corporate interests—untouched. The truth is that our democracy has been compromised for decades, and it will remain so until both sides of the aisle are held accountable for their role in preserving this oligarchic system.

Instead of directing anger at individuals or parties, we should be asking: How do we break free from a system designed to keep us pointing fingers at each other while those in power profit from the chaos?

From Crunchy Hippie to Conservative Christian Pipeline: My Journey Through the Radicalization Maze

Growing up secular, I’d have laughed at the idea that I would someday align with conservative or religious ideologies. Portland, Oregon, was my playground of progressive ideals—a city where conservatism felt like the root of every societal ill. But life has a way of challenging our convictions. Late in the pandemic, isolated and seeking meaning, I fell into an extreme version of Christianity. What I once dismissed as unthinkable became my new normal—until it wasn’t. Earlier this year, I deconstructed those beliefs, peeling back the layers of what led me there. Read/listen all about HERE!

Now, I can see the flaws and virtues of both worlds, which is why I find the frame of mind in deconstruction spaces puzzling. Many accounts misrepresent or overgeneralize conservatives—the very people they once were or grew up with—and cast the same stones they once had thrown at them.

It reminds me of this quote from the book The Righteous Mind:

“I had escaped from my prior partisan mind-set (reject first, ask rhetorical questions later) and began to think about liberal and conservative policies as manifestations of deeply conflicting but equally heartfelt visions of the good society. It felt good to be released from partisan anger. And once I was no longer angry, I was no longer committed to reaching the conclusion that righteous anger demands: we are right, they are wrong.”

Deconstructing past beliefs should be about nuance, growth, and intellectual humility—not trading one form of black-and-white thinking for another. When we fail to empathize with others’ moral frameworks, we miss out on a deeper understanding of the human experience.

Many in the ex-evangelical space now lean far left in their political views, where values like care, fairness, and empathy take center stage. Conservative values like loyalty and authority are dismissed or viewed with suspicion, fostering an “us vs. them” mentality.

This cultural shift into victimhood is explored further in The Coddling of the American Mind by Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt, who identify three “Great Untruths” that help explain these societal trends:

1) “What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker,”
2) “Always trust your feelings,”
3) “Life is a battle between good people and evil people.”

These untruths, they argue, contribute to fragility, discourage critical thinking, and promote a tribal mentality—characteristics that are increasingly evident in both the deconstruction space and parts of the progressive left. The focus on emotional responses over rational thought and the growing divide between “us” and “them” only strengthens these dynamics. For a deeper dive into this.

Woke Ideology as a Secular Faith: A Closer Look

“What we’re seeing isn’t a quest for justice but a demand for unquestioning orthodoxy.”

John McWhorter argues that wokeism functions like a full-fledged religion. It provides a moral framework that mirrors traditional religious beliefs. Instead of concepts like original sin, wokeism offers “privilege,” positioning those with it as morally compromised. In place of rituals like prayer, adherents perform acts like confessing their biases. And, similar to the salvation promised in traditional religions, salvation in wokeism comes through activism and striving for societal change. He warns that its refusal to tolerate dissent turns it into a rigid orthodoxy rather than a genuine quest for justice. For many, including those who’ve deconstructed evangelical faith, this framework hits uncomfortably close to home.

Many of the individuals I met and conversed with who now identify as progressive or left leaning have simply exchanged the evangelical radicalism of their past for their new liberal beliefs. Social justice, in this sense, has become their new End Times—complete with the same apocalyptic fervor. And it’s painfully obvious.

Douglas Murray discusses this analysis further in The Madness of Crowds. He suggests that wokeism often serves as a substitute for religion in today’s secular world. As belief in traditional religions has waned, people have sought meaning elsewhere—and wokeism fills that void. It provides clear rules and a sense of belonging, but in doing so, it also shuts down open debate and nuanced conversation.

The New Authority: From Sky Daddy to State Agencies

A striking similarity between fundamentalist religion and woke ideology is the relentless worship of authority. For those who’ve left behind their “big sky daddy,” that void has been filled by institutions like the CDC, FDA, and government agencies. The pandemic demonstrated how blind faith can easily shift from divine to institutional.

This is where the religion of scientism enters the picture—where reason and science are elevated to the status of ultimate truth. Figures who present themselves as “experts” rely on surface-level expertise and selective data to craft narratives that appear authoritative, yet fail under scrutiny. They become the “fake intellectuals,” as Franklin O’Kanu calls them, feeding the cult of expertise while often lacking real intellectual rigor. In public health, this plays out with the “revolving door” between regulatory agencies and the pharmaceutical industry, which further complicates the narrative of impartiality.

The “revolving door” describes the flow of personnel between agencies like the CDC and the pharmaceutical industry. This cycle blurs the lines between public service and corporate interest, with former regulators influencing policies that benefit the very companies they once oversaw—creating a potential conflict of interest that’s staggering.

In this new system, the scientific establishment becomes the new authority—replacing the monotheistic idea of God with the “god” of reason and data. For those in the deconstruction space, this is a new form of dogma. It stifles curiosity, dismisses dissent, and discourages critical thinking—all in the name of progress. This mirrors the rigid certainty and tribalism found in the religious structures people sought to escape.

Worshipping “science” or blindly trusting clinical trials can be misleading. While clinical trials are seen as vital for medical progress, they are often heavily influenced by the pharmaceutical industry, which funds a vast majority of these trials. This creates a conflict of interest that can skew results and delay critical information about the risks of drugs. Examples like the Vioxx scandal, where a painkiller was marketed despite internal knowledge of its dangers, and the Tamiflu case, where the effectiveness of the drug was overstated, show how corporate interests can shape clinical trial outcomes. Clinical trials, while important, are not always as objective or transparent as they seem.

Empowering Dangerous Systems

Yasmine Mohammed’s Unveiled pushes the conversation even more, explaining how wokeism can actually empower authoritarian regimes. One key point she makes is how Western progressives, in the name of cultural relativism, avoid criticizing radical Islam. This gives a platform to extremist ideologies, which harms vulnerable groups like women and minorities. She argues,

“By shielding oppressive practices from scrutiny, wokeism betrays the very people it claims to protect.”

The binary “oppressor versus oppressed” narrative has become a staple of modern discourse, particularly within the context of the Israel-Palestine conflict. This oversimplified lens reduces complex geopolitical and historical realities to a stark dichotomy, fostering a dangerous environment where nuance is lost. It’s unnerving to see college students waving the flag of Palestine while simultaneously undermining U.S. monuments and values, while spreading fear mongering lies about Project 2025, and comparing Trump to Hitler. These contradictions are not only mind-numbing but also deeply troubling, signaling a shift toward ideological extremism that dismisses the complexities of any issue in favor of emotional, binary thinking.

Antisemitism has spiked globally after the October 7 attacks on Israel, but this tragic reality has also fueled the misuse of the term “antisemitism” to suppress valid critiques of Israeli policies. Labeling critics as antisemitic conflates political criticism with hate, shutting down meaningful dialogue essential to addressing the Israel-Palestine conflict’s complexities.

This approach mirrors patterns within woke ideology, where dissent is often silenced in the name of ideological purity. The weaponization of identity politics and accusations hinders nuanced discussions and reinforces systems of power, obstructing pathways to justice and true understanding.

Vivek Ramaswamy, in Woke, Inc., adds another layer to this by discussing how authoritarian regimes like China’s Communist Party (CCP) take advantage of woke rhetoric. According to Ramaswamy, the CCP amplifies America’s internal divisions—often fueled by wokeism—to weaken the West. By focusing on these cultural rifts, China diverts attention from its own human rights abuses, all while strengthening its geopolitical position. This is part of China’s broader geopolitical strategy, which seeks to deflect attention from its authoritarian practices while exploiting divisions in Western societies.

This pattern can be seen as part of a broader effort to exploit the distractions created by cultural conflicts to enhance its influence in global organizations, trade, and international relations. For example, while Western nations debate internal social issues, China continues its expansive Belt and Road Initiative, which increases its influence across developing nations.

Heretics and the Price of Dissent

Religious movements and extreme ideologies, like wokeism, are often defined by their treatment of dissenters or heretics. Woke spaces, much like traditional religious communities, are quick to condemn those who question or criticize. Whether it’s TERFs (trans-exclusionary radical feminists) or former progressives like Yasmine Mohammed, those who dissent face severe backlash. This exclusionary behavior creates a stifling environment, not dissimilar to how traditional religions treat apostates. As Douglas Murray puts it, “The hatred reserved for heretics is often more intense than that directed at outsiders.”

But this dynamic is about more than just ideological rigidity—it’s also rooted in human psychology. The human brain is naturally drawn to certainty. When we embrace extreme ideologies, we seek control over our environment, which provides us a sense of stability and security. Research in neuroscience shows that when our beliefs are challenged, we experience discomfort, but defending them can trigger a dopamine response, rewarding us with a sense of control. The brain gets a “hit” from maintaining a sense of certainty, even if it’s at the cost of nuance or rational discussion.

Read more here https://taste0ftruth.com/2024/08/08/the-illusion-of-control-neuroscience-of-fundamentalism-and-diet-culture/

In fact, this need for certainty can become addictive. The human brain often craves certainty in the form of binary thinking—where things are either completely right or completely wrong. This type of thinking is satisfying because it shields us from the cognitive dissonance that arises when faced with complexity or ambiguity. In the case of woke ideology, the call for absolute adherence to certain beliefs or behaviors is not just about social justice—it’s a way to satisfy that neurological need for control. When we feel justified in our beliefs and actions, we receive a dopamine “reward,” reinforcing the behavior.

This addiction to certainty can also be seen in extreme partisanship. The more entrenched we become in one side, the more our brain is rewarded for defending it. It’s why many people in the deconstruction space or on the political left engage in “mental gymnastics”—creating justifications and rationalizations that protect their beliefs. This isn’t just about ideology; it’s about keeping that dopamine reward flowing, keeping the illusion of control intact, and avoiding the discomfort of uncertainty.

The problem is this pattern of thinking isn’t conducive to open dialogue or true critical thinking. The “us vs. them” mentality becomes more pronounced, and the space for nuance, disagreement, and personal growth shrinks. Instead of engaging with opposing views, individuals self-censor or double down on their beliefs, further entrenched in the addictive cycle of ideological purity.

Moving Forward: A Balanced Approach

It’s important to note that this critique isn’t meant to dismiss the noble goals of social justice movements. Addressing inequality and harm in the world is crucial. But when these movements demand absolute loyalty and punish dissent, they lose sight of the very ideals they claim to uphold.

What do you guys think? How do you balance the pursuit of justice with the need for free thought?

As I discuss on my podcast, Taste of Truth Tuesdays, this tension is something I’ll be unpacking in more detail on Season 3 and particularly with Yasmine Mohammed. We’ll explore how wokeism intersects with radical Islam, how authoritarian regimes exploit these divisions, and how we can engage with these ideologies in a way that doesn’t undermine the values of justice, free thought, and humanity.

Join the Conversation

Do you see these religious parallels in woke ideology? Are they helpful in understanding these dynamics, or do they oversimplify the issue?

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Comment below, and don’t miss my podcast episode with Yasmine Mohammed dropping 2025 for a deeper dive into these topics!

Posted on October 29, 2024October 29, 2024 in Bible, biblicalworldview, christianfaith, christianpatriarchy, coercivecontrol, conspiracies, cults, deconstruction, faith, historicalfigures, history, manipulation, mentalhealth, new age spiritual, podcast, socialjustice, spiritualabuse, testimonies, theology, wordofgod, worldview

Understanding the Evolution of Witch Hunts

Welcome to Taste of Truth Tuesdays, where we unravel the strange, the mysterious, and today—the terrifying. This post delves into one of history’s darkest chapters: the witch hunts. We’ll explore how fear, superstition, and control shaped centuries of persecution and how these patterns are still evident in the modern world. Witch hunts aren’t just a thing of the past—they’ve evolved.

The European Witch Hunts – Early Modern Europe

Let’s start in early modern Europe. Scholar Peter Maxwell-Stuart illuminates the rise of demonology, where the fear of magic and the devil became a weapon of control for those in power. Beginning in the 1500s, political and religious leaders manipulated entire populations by tapping into their deep-rooted fears of ‘evil forces.’ The Church, in particular, weaponized these beliefs, positioning itself as the protector against witches—women (and sometimes men) believed to consort with devils or conjure dark forces. As the idea took hold that witches could be behind every famine, illness, or death, this created a perfect storm of paranoia.

Stuart argues that demonology texts—many sanctioned by the Church—fueled mass hysteria, feeding the narrative that witches were not just local troublemakers but cosmic agents of Satan, hell-bent on destroying Christendom. Ordinary people lived in constant fear of betrayal by their neighbors, leading to accusations that could swiftly escalate into brutal trials, with the accused often tortured into confessing their ‘diabolical’ crimes.

To understand how demonology in Europe gained such traction, we need to go back to Augustine of Hippo. We have mentioned him before in previous episodes, whose writings in the 4th and 5th centuries laid the foundation for Christian perceptions of the devil and demons. Augustine’s ideas, especially in City of God, emphasized the constant spiritual warfare between good and evil, casting demons as agents of Satan working tirelessly to undermine God’s plan. He argued that humans were caught in this cosmic battle, susceptible to the devil’s temptations and tricks.

‘Augustine before a group of demons’, from ‘De civitate Dei’ by Augustine, trans. by Raoul de Presles, late 15th Century

Augustine’s Doctrine of Demons

According to Augustine, demons were fallen angels who had rebelled and now sought to deceive and destroy humanity. While Augustine didn’t explicitly discuss witches, his interpretation of demons helped fuel the belief that humans could be manipulated by evil spirits—whether through pacts, possession, or magical practices. This idea later influenced medieval and early modern European demonology.

Augustine’s views on original sin—that humanity is inherently flawed and in need of salvation—also intensified fears that people, especially women (who were seen as ‘weaker’ spiritually), were more vulnerable to the devil’s influence.

SIDE NOTE: We have discussed the theological concept of original sin in previous episodes: Franciscan wisdom navigating spiritual growth and challenges with Carrie Moore, we specifically spun the doctrine of original sin on its head and then also Unpacking Religious Trauma: Navigating the Dynamics of Faith Deconstruction with Doctor Mark Karris.

In the centuries that followed, these ideas were weaponized to justify witch hunts. Augustine’s legacy is evident in how later theologians and demonologists, such as Heinrich Kramer (author of the infamous Malleus Maleficarum), built upon his ideas of demonic interference to condemn witchcraft as a real, existential threat to Christian society.

Maxwell-Stuart reveals that the creation of demonology wasn’t just religious but deeply political. Kings and clergy alike realized they could consolidate power by stoking the flames of fear, casting witches and sorcerers as a common enemy. The trials served a dual purpose: they reinforced the Church’s supremacy over the spiritual realm and gave ruling elites a tool for maintaining social order. Accusing someone of witchcraft was an effective way to silence dissent or settle personal scores.

Fear as a Tool of Control

Fear wasn’t just manufactured by rulers—it was deeply ingrained in the societal, religious, and legal systems of the time. Scholar Sophie Page reveals how beliefs in magic and the supernatural were not fringe ideas but core components of medieval and early modern life. Magic wasn’t merely a mysterious force; it was a pervasive explanation for any calamity. Failed harvests, plagues, or unexplained illnesses were often attributed to witches or the devil, creating a society constantly on edge, where supernatural forces were believed to lurk behind every misfortune.

By embedding these beliefs into legal codes, authorities could target suspected witches or sorcerers under the guise of protecting the community. Page’s work illustrates how rituals once seen as protective or healing gradually became demonized. Harmless folk practices and herbal remedies, used for centuries, began to be recast as witchcraft, especially when things went wrong. People, particularly those in rural areas, were vulnerable to this thinking because religion and superstition were inseparable from daily life.

Partisan scholars have long debated whether Catholics or Protestants were the “real” witch hunters, but they’ve made little headway. One important change in Christian morality, as discussed by John Bossie, occurred between the 14th and 16th centuries. The moral focus shifted from the Seven Deadly Sins—pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, anger, and sloth—to the Ten Commandments. This change, influenced by reform movements that shaped the Protestant Reformation, prioritized sins against God over those against the community. Idolatry and the worship of false gods became viewed as the gravest offenses.

This redefinition of witchcraft followed suit. Instead of being seen as harmful actions toward neighbors, witchcraft was now linked directly to devil worship and regarded as serious heresy. Scholars and church leaders began merging various forms of folk magic and healing into this new narrative, suggesting that practitioners were either knowingly or unknowingly making deals with the devil. Confessions of pacts or attendance at “witch gatherings” were shaped to highlight community failings, like envy and resentment. Consequently, educated society began to see witchcraft as a real threat rather than mere superstition. While traditional beliefs about magic still existed, they were overshadowed by fears of violent backlash from reformers.

The Power of Dualistic Thinking

This dualistic thinking, influenced by St. Augustine, gave rise to a semi-Manichean worldview, where the struggle between good and evil became more pronounced. Manichaeism, an ancient belief system, viewed the world as a battleground between equal forces of good and evil. Although orthodox Christianity rejected this dualism, the focus on the devil’s role in everyday life blurred those lines for many people. By emphasizing the devil’s pervasive influence, religious leaders inadvertently created a belief system in which evil seemed as powerful as good.

In this semi-Manichean view, the devil was not just a tempter of individuals but a corrupting force within communities and even within political and religious practices deemed heretical. Fears of devil-worshipping conspiracies became intertwined with anxieties about witchcraft and moral decay. Reformers, particularly in Protestant movements, fueled these fears by branding idolatry, Catholic rituals, and even folk healing as dangerous openings for the devil’s influence. This perspective transformed witchcraft from a local issue into a broader threat against God and society.

The result was a potent mix of dualistic thinking and an intense focus on spiritual warfare. This not only intensified the persecution of supposed witches but also reinforced the obsession with eliminating anything considered “satanic.” The ideological shift redefined witchcraft as a communal danger, turning innocent healing practices into accusations of demonic pacts.

Every village had its own ‘cunning folk’—individuals skilled in healing and folk magic—yet these very people could easily become scapegoats when something went wrong. The legal structures played a vital role in perpetuating this cycle of fear. Church courts, bolstered by theologians and demonologists, were empowered to try individuals accused of witchcraft, and the accusations quickly spiraled into mass hysteria. Trials often relied on tortured confessions, reinforcing the belief that witches and the devil were real and tangible threats to society. This institutionalized paranoia was a perfect storm of religion, fear, and control.

The Rise of Organized Witch Hunts

Beginning in the late 15th century, witch trials escalated into full-blown hunts, particularly after the publication of the Malleus Maleficarum in 1487. This infamous witch-hunting manual, written by Heinrich Kramer and endorsed by the Pope, offered legal and theological justifications for hunting down witches. It encouraged harsh interrogations and set guidelines for identifying witches based on superficial evidence like birthmarks, behaviors, and confessions extracted under torture. The legal system, which had already started to turn against folk healers, now had a codified method for persecuting them.

In regions like Germany, Scotland, and Switzerland, these legal trials turned into widespread witch hunts. Hundreds, even thousands, of individuals—predominantly women—were accused and executed. What’s particularly fascinating is that these witch hunts often peaked during periods of societal or economic instability when fear and uncertainty made people more susceptible to attributing their misfortunes to external, supernatural forces.

By institutionalizing the persecution of witches, rulers and religious leaders could manage social unrest and solidify their authority. The trials often reinforced the power structures by demonstrating that anyone perceived as a threat to societal order—whether through suspected witchcraft or merely social nonconformity—could be eradicated.

Witch Hunts and Gender

The scapegoating of women played a crucial role in these witch hunts. Owen Davies’ work reveals how the demonization of witches intersected with misogyny, turning the hunts into a gendered form of control. Midwives, healers, or outspoken women were more likely to be targeted, reinforcing patriarchal authority. The very skills that had once been valued, such as healing and midwifery, were redefined as dangerous and linked to dark powers.

As witch hunts spread, the legal frameworks across Europe became more refined and institutionalized, creating a climate where fear of witches and demonic possession became the norm. The trials’ obsession with confessions—often coerced under brutal conditions—further fueled public paranoia, as the more people confessed to witchcraft, the more tangible the ‘threat’ seemed.

The Modern Echoes of Witch Hunts

Fast forward to today, and we find that the legacy of witch hunts lingers. The tactics of fear-mongering, scapegoating, and social control can still be observed in modern contexts. Contemporary movements often mirror historical witch hunts, targeting marginalized groups through accusations and public shaming. Just as witch hunts flourished in times of societal uncertainty, modern societies can succumb to similar dynamics.

In the age of social media, legal accusations spread like wildfire, and the court of public opinion often acts faster than the courts themselves. Political enemies are dragged through the mud with allegations that may or may not have a basis in fact.

The case of Michael Jackson serves as a poignant example of how media narratives can distort reality. The beloved pop icon faced multiple allegations of child molestation, with the most notable case occurring in 2005 during a highly publicized trial. Accusers claimed that Jackson had abused them, yet the defense presented compelling counterarguments, including challenges to the credibility of the witnesses and highlighting inconsistencies in their testimonies. After a lengthy trial, Jackson was acquitted of all charges, but the media frenzy surrounding the case fueled public debate and sensationalism, earning him the derogatory nickname “Wacko Jacko.” This smear campaign perpetuated false narratives about his character and actions. Behind the scenes, Jackson was embroiled in a lawsuit against Sony Music, a battle he was reportedly winning at the time of these allegations. Furthermore, his controversial doctor, Conrad Murray, who administered drugs to Jackson, faced serious legal consequences for his role in the singer’s death, including manslaughter charges. The intersection of these legal battles and the media frenzy created a complex narrative that ultimately tarnished Jackson’s legacy, and that’s what truly breaks my heart.

By the time these individuals have the chance to clear their names, their reputations—and often their careers—are already in ruins. Davies’ research shows us that while modern witch hunts don’t involve burning at the stake, they do involve trial by media and mob justice.

And we can’t talk about modern-day witch hunts without bringing the CIA into the conversation. Since its inception, the CIA has been at the heart of international political manipulations—using covert methods to shape public perception, interfere in foreign governments, and even influence elections here in the United States. In the 1960s, the agency coined the term ‘conspiracy theorist’ to discredit anyone who questioned the official narratives surrounding events like the assassination of JFK. Those who didn’t toe the line were labeled as ‘paranoid’ or ‘dangerous.’ It was the modern version of labeling someone a witch—turning them into a social outcast, not to be trusted.

Fast forward to today: we see similar tactics used against whistleblowers, journalists, and activists who challenge the powerful. Think about Edward Snowden, Julian Assange, and even political figures targeted by intelligence communities. The second they start exposing uncomfortable truths, they are vilified. Whether through leaks, smear campaigns, or selective legal action, these modern-day ‘witches’ face an onslaught of accusations, designed to discredit them before they can fully tell their story.

In many cases, the evidence behind these accusations is shaky at best. The CIA’s involvement in manipulating public perception goes all the way back to Operation Mockingbird, a secret program to influence media narratives, which showed that controlling information was one of the most powerful tools they had. During the Cold War, the United States engaged in a concerted effort to influence and control media narratives to align with its interests, which involved recruiting journalists and establishing relationships with major media outlets.

Edward Bernays, often referred to as the father of public relations, played a pivotal role in these discussions on media manipulation. Working with several major companies, including Procter & Gamble, General Electric, and the American Tobacco Company, Bernays was instrumental in promoting the cigarette brand Lucky Strike, famously linking it to the women’s liberation movement. His connections extend to notable figures like Sigmund Freud, who was Bernays’ uncle, Freud’s psychoanalytic theories significantly shaped Bernays’ PR strategies. Throughout his career, Bernays leveraged media to influence public perception and political leaders, raising profound questions about the power dynamics of media and its capacity to shape societal narratives. (If you’re intrigued by the intricate interplay of media and propaganda, this is a rabbit hole worth exploring!)

Today, that same fear-mongering tactic is played out on a much larger scale. Accusations, whether of conspiracy, treason, or subversion, become tools to silence anyone questioning the status quo. Just as witches in the past were seen as ‘different’ and thus dangerous, today’s targets are often people who challenge the system.

And while throughout the 1300-1600s, there was no due process for the accused witches, today, we see something similar in the digital realm. There’s no real accountability or fairness in the court of public opinion. All it takes is a viral accusation—a tweet, a blog post, or a video—and the person’s career, family, and mental health can be obliterated overnight. No evidence required, no trial, no defense.

So, what can we learn from this history? From the witch hunts of early modern Europe to today’s viral accusations and political fearmongering, there’s one key lesson: fear remains one of the most dangerous tools of control. When we allow fear to dictate our actions—whether it’s fear of witches, outsiders, or anyone who doesn’t fit into the mold—we lose sight of reason and humanity.

In closing, I’d like to examine the phenomenon of witch hunts through the lens of amygdala hijacking, a topic we discussed in a previous episode. This term refers to the brain’s immediate response to perceived threats, where the amygdala—the emotional center of the brain—takes control, often resulting in irrational and impulsive actions.

During the witch hunts, communities gripped by fear of the unknown succumbed to a mob mentality whenever someone fell ill or misfortune struck. The amygdala triggered a fight-or-flight response, compelling individuals to find scapegoats, with cunning folk and those deviating from societal norms becoming prime targets. As accusations spiraled, fear dominated decision-making instead of rational thought. Today, we observe similar patterns in how social media can incite panic, leading to modern witch hunts. When fear takes over, reason often fades, resulting in unjust vilification—echoing the dark lessons of history.

As we navigate our modern world, let’s remain vigilant against the echoes of this history, seeking truth and questioning the narratives that shape our beliefs. Fear may be powerful, but curiosity and critical thinking are our greatest allies in maintaining our autonomy and humanity.

Resources:

Briggs, Robin. Witches and Neighbors: The Social and Cultural Context of European Witchcraft. Oxford University Press, 1996.

This book provides a comprehensive exploration of the social dynamics surrounding witch hunts in early modern Europe, highlighting the interplay of fear, community, and cultural beliefs.

Maxwell-Stuart, Peter G.Witchcraft in Europe, 1100-1700: A Sourcebook. Palgrave Macmillan, 2010.

This sourcebook compiles essential documents related to the history of witchcraft in Europe, providing insights into how fear and persecution were constructed and justified.

Page, Sophie.Magic in the Middle Ages. Cambridge University Press, 2005.

This book offers an analysis of the cultural and religious practices surrounding magic during the medieval period, emphasizing how these beliefs shaped societal attitudes toward witchcraft.

Bossy, John.Christianity in the West, 1400-1700. Oxford University Press, 1985.

Bossy examines the transformation of Christian morality during the Reformation, providing context for the changing perceptions of witchcraft and heresy.

Davies, Owen. Popular Magic: Cunning Folk in English History. Continuum, 2007.

This work explores the role of cunning folk—those who practiced folk magic—and how their practices were perceived within the broader context of witchcraft accusations.

Baroja, J. C. Witches and Witchcraft. University of California Press, 1990.

Baroja’s work examines the historical and cultural significance of witchcraft, providing insights into the social conditions that fueled witch hunts and the cultural implications of these beliefs.

The first use of the term “conspiracy theory” is much earlier — and more interesting — than historians have thought.

Posted on July 22, 2024 in Bible, biblicalworldview, challenges, christianfaith, deconstruction, holistic health, mental health, nervous system, new age spiritual, newagetojesus, physiology, podcast, scripture, spiritualabuse, theology, wordofgod, worldview

Beyond the IBLP: Unveiling the Shared Roots of Evangelicalism & Spiritual Trauma

The Institute in Basic Life Principles was founded by Bill Gothard, is known for its strict, authoritarian teachings on Christian living and family roles, often leading to significant emotional harm.

In the deconstruction space, there’s a troubling tendency to focus exclusively on extreme cases of spiritual abuse, such as those from the Institute in Basic Life Principles (IBLP). While it’s crucial to address and understand these severe experiences, it’s equally important to recognize that spiritual and religious trauma can manifest in many forms beyond such high-profile examples.

While IBLP is a notable example of spiritual abuse, its practices reflect broader trends within evangelical Christianity that also emphasize control, guilt, and fear.

Unveiling the Shared Roots

The roots of evangelical Christianity are deeply entwined with guilt, fear, coercion, and deception, a legacy that can permeate all levels of faith practice. This issue isn’t confined to one group or doctrine; rather, it echoes through the broader history of evangelicalism, including the violent and tumultuous period of the Protestant Reformation.

Guilt and Fear: Evangelical teachings often emphasize human sinfulness and the need for constant repentance, creating an environment where guilt and fear become central. The pressure to meet unattainable moral standards can lead to chronic anxiety and self-doubt. Believers may struggle with feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness, which can erode self-esteem and lead to long-term psychological trauma.

Coercion: Many evangelical doctrines employ coercive tactics to ensure conformity and compliance. This can include manipulating believers through promises of divine favor or threats of divine punishment. Such coercion often pressures individuals into adhering to strict beliefs and behaviors, stifling personal autonomy and fostering a sense of control and manipulation.

Deception: The evangelical tradition can sometimes perpetuate deceptive teachings, presenting religious doctrines in a way that omits or distorts critical truths. This can include selective scriptural interpretations or misleading teachings about the nature of God and salvation. When individuals later confront these deceptions, they may experience profound disillusionment and betrayal, further contributing to their trauma.

Historical Context: The Protestant Reformation, a pivotal event in evangelical history, was marked by violent conflict and intense upheaval. The brutality and extremism of this period set a precedent for how religious movements can become entangled in aggression and intolerance. This historical backdrop adds another layer to understanding how evangelical Christianity, in its various forms, can inflict spiritual harm.

By acknowledging this broader context, we can better address the diverse experiences of trauma within the Christian faith and work towards healing that encompasses all who have been affected.\

Let’s look at the parallels:

1. Control and Authority:

Evangelical Teachings: Evangelical groups often emphasize strict adherence to biblical authority and teachings, which can lead to high levels of control over personal beliefs and behavior.
IBLP: The IBLP, founded by Bill Gothard, is known for its rigid set of rules and teachings that govern nearly every aspect of life, including family dynamics, education, and personal conduct.

2. Use of Guilt and Fear:

Evangelical Teachings: Evangelicals may use guilt and fear of eternal damnation to enforce moral behavior and adherence to religious practices.
IBLP: The IBLP uses fear of divine punishment and guilt to maintain control, emphasizing strict obedience to its principles and teachings.

3. Isolation from Dissenting Views:

Evangelical Teachings: Evangelical communities might discourage or isolate members who question or deviate from core beliefs, often labeling dissent as dangerous or sinful.
IBLP: The IBLP isolates its members from outside influences and encourages avoidance of those who criticize or question its teachings.

4. Emphasis on Obedience:

Evangelical Teachings: Emphasis is placed on obedience to God’s commands and church teachings, which can sometimes discourage critical thinking and personal questioning.
IBLP: stresses strict obedience to its guidelines as a sign of faithfulness, often at the expense of personal autonomy and critical reflection.

5. Authoritarian Structure:

Evangelical Teachings: Many evangelical groups have a hierarchical structure where church leaders wield significant authority over members’ beliefs and practices.
IBLP: The IBLP has a centralized authority with Bill Gothard’s teachings at the core, and his directives are followed unquestioningly by adherents.

6. Focus on Family Roles:

Evangelical Teachings: Traditional evangelical teachings often emphasize distinct roles within the family, typically with a strong patriarchal structure.
IBLP: The IBLP advocates for a strict family hierarchy where the father is the ultimate authority, and family roles are rigidly defined.

7. Handling of Dissent and Criticism:

Evangelical Teachings: In many evangelical communities, dissent or criticism of church doctrine or practices can lead to significant social and spiritual consequences. Those who voice doubts may be labeled as troublemakers or heretics, and their concerns are often dismissed or invalidated.
IBLP: The IBLP is known for its strong stance against criticism. Those who question or criticize its teachings are often ostracized or labeled as spiritually immature or rebellious. This approach helps to maintain a homogenous and compliant membership base.

8. Emphasis on Personal Purity and Moral Behavior:

Evangelical Teachings: Evangelical teachings often place a high value on personal purity and moral behavior, with a strong focus on abstaining from behaviors deemed sinful, such as premarital sex, substance abuse, or other forms of moral failing. This emphasis can create a culture of judgment and fear of falling short.
IBLP: The IBLP emphasizes extreme standards of moral behavior and personal purity, with detailed guidelines on how members should conduct themselves in all areas of life. The focus on maintaining high moral standards can lead to guilt and self-policing among members.

9. Economic and Social Expectations:

Evangelical Teachings: Some evangelical communities have specific expectations regarding financial contributions to the church and adherence to tithing practices. Members may be encouraged to prioritize church-related financial support over other expenses.
IBLP: The IBLP also has expectations regarding financial and social behavior, including guidelines on how families should manage their finances and interactions. Members are often encouraged to support the organization financially and align their social activities with its teachings.

10. Role of Testimonies and Personal Experiences:

Evangelical Teachings: Evangelical communities often emphasize personal testimonies and experiences as evidence of spiritual truth. Individuals are encouraged to share their personal stories of conversion or miracles as validation of their faith.
IBLP: The IBLP similarly relies on personal testimonies and experiences to validate its teachings. Success stories and positive outcomes are used to promote the effectiveness of its principles, while negative experiences are often dismissed or attributed to a lack of adherence.

11. Intervention in Personal Choices:

Evangelical Teachings: Evangelical teachings may extend into personal choices such as dating, marriage, and career decisions. Members might receive guidance or pressure to make choices that align with church teachings or leadership directives.
IBLP: The IBLP provides detailed guidance on personal choices, including dating and marriage, often imposing strict rules on how these aspects of life should be approached. Members are expected to follow these guidelines closely, with deviations viewed as problematic.

12. Cultural and Social Isolation:

Evangelical Teachings: Evangelical communities may promote cultural and social isolation from secular society, encouraging members to avoid influences that are seen as contrary to their faith. This can include limiting exposure to secular media, secular education, or interfaith interactions.
IBLP: The IBLP promotes a high degree of cultural and social isolation, encouraging members to avoid secular influences and limit interactions with those outside the organization. This isolation helps to reinforce adherence to IBLP teachings and prevents exposure to alternative viewpoints.

13. Psychological and Emotional Impact:

– Evangelical Teachings: The pressure to conform to strict religious standards can lead to psychological and emotional stress, including anxiety, guilt, and fear of failure or condemnation. Members may struggle with self-esteem and mental health issues as a result of these pressures.
– IBLP: The IBLP’s emphasis on strict adherence to its principles can also have significant psychological and emotional impacts, including stress, guilt, and fear of not measuring up to its standards. This can lead to long-term emotional and psychological difficulties for members.

In examining the similarities between evangelical teachings and the Institute in Basic Life Principles (IBLP), it becomes clear that both systems employ similar methods of control and influence.

Evangelicalism often emphasizes strict adherence to biblical authority, use of guilt and fear, and isolation of dissenting views, which can significantly impact personal beliefs and behavior.

Similarly, IBLP’s rigid rules and central authority exert profound control over its members, using fear and guilt to enforce compliance. Both systems focus on obedience and maintain hierarchical structures that can suppress critical thinking and personal autonomy.

Understanding these parallels sheds light on the broader patterns of spiritual trauma that can arise within high-control religious environments.

Whether within the confines of IBLP or the wider evangelical world, the use of control, guilt, and isolation can have lasting effects on individuals.

Recognizing these patterns is crucial for fostering awareness and support for those affected by such environments. As we continue to explore and address these issues, it is essential to advocate for more compassionate and open approaches to faith and personal growth, free from undue control and fear.

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