Escaping One Cult, Joining Another? The Trap of Ideological Echo Chambers

When ‘Cult Recovery’ Looks a Lot Like a New Cult

I had a lot of different topics in mind for my final solo episode of Taste of Truth Tuesdays Season 3. For example, The Stress-Mitochondria Connection: How B vitamins, Taurine and Magnesium Fuel your Energy, A world without religion: Freedom or Fragmentation, How Emotional Trauma contributes to Chronic Pain or the Social Media Dilemma How to Break Free from the Digital Grip… But then, a new development landed right in my lap—one that perfectly encapsulates the concerning trends I’ve been observing in the deconstruction, ex-Christian, anti-MLM, and ex-cult communities.

My friend Brandie, who I had on in Season 2 for the episode From Serendipity to Scrutiny, recently blocked me. And why? Because I simply pushed back and asked questions. We’d had some private conversations in the DMs that had already raised red flags for me, but apparently, even the slightest bit of pushback was enough to get me cut off. This isn’t just about one friendship—it’s about a much bigger pattern I’ve seen unfolding.

The Deconstruction Pipeline: When Leaving a High-Control Group Means Entering Another

One of the biggest ironies in the ExChristian circles is how quickly people flee high-control religious environments only to land in equally dogmatic ideological spaces. This isn’t a coincidence—it’s human nature. As Jonathan Haidt lays out in The Righteous Mind, our reasoning evolved more for argumentation than truth-seeking. We are wired for confirmation bias, and when we leave one belief system, we often replace it with another that feels equally absolute but now appears “rational” or “liberating.”

This is where figures like Steven Hassan and Janja Lalich come in (because this isn’t just about Brandie) self-proclaimed experts on cults who, ironically, exhibit the same control tactics they claim to expose. Hassan, a former Moonie turned cult deprogrammer, has made a career out of helping people escape authoritarian religious systems. But a deeper look at his work reveals an ideological bent (it’s hard to ignore). He frequently frames conservative or traditional religious beliefs as inherently cult-like while giving progressive or leftist movements a pass. He has called Trumpism a cult but is conspicuously silent on the high-control tactics within certain progressive activist spaces. His criteria for what constitute undue influence seem to shift depending on the political context, (BITE model) making his framework less about critical thinking and more about reinforcing his preferred ideological narrative. I did what Hassan won’t: use his own model to break down the mind control tactics of the extreme left.

Janja Lalich follows a similar pattern. A (supposedly) former Marxist-Leninist, she applies her cult analysis primarily to religious and right-wing groups while glossing over the coercive elements in the far-left spaces she once occupied (or still does). Her work is valuable in breaking down how high-demand groups operate, but she, too, appears to have blind spots when it comes to ideological echo chambers outside of the religious sphere. These represent a pattern rather than an isolated incident. Other platforms like (The New Evangelicals, Dr. Pete Enns (The Bible for Normal People), Eve was framed, Jesus Unfollower, Dr. Laura Anderson just to name a few.) highlight control tactics when they appear in traditional or conservative groups but fail to apply the same scrutiny to their own ideological circles.

This selective analysis creates a dangerous illusion: it allows people leaving fundamentalist religious spaces to believe they are now “free thinkers” while unknowingly adopting another rigid belief system. The deconstruction pipeline often leads former evangelicals straight into progressive activism, where purity tests, ideological loyalty, and social shaming operate just as effectively as they did in the church. The language changes: “sin” becomes “problematic,” “heresy” becomes “harmful rhetoric”, but the mechanisms remain the same.

Haidt’s work on moral foundations helps explain this phenomenon. Progressive and conservative worldviews are built on different moral intuitions, but both can be taken to extremes. The key to avoiding ideological capture is intellectual humility—the ability to recognize that no belief system has a monopoly on truth and that reason itself can be weaponized for tribalism.

John Stuart Mill warned of this centuries ago: the greatest threat to truth is not outright censorship but the cultural and social pressures that make certain ideas unspeakable. Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt’s The Coddling of the American Mind echoes this concern, showing how overprotective thinking and emotional reasoning have created a generation that confuses disagreement with harm.

Franklin O’Kanu’s concept of the “fake intellectual” is particularly relevant here—people who claim to be champions of free thought while aggressively enforcing ideological orthodoxy.

In this episode, through my experience with Brandie, I’ll illustrate how skepticism is selectively applied, and how ‘critical thinking’ communities can become just as dogmatic as the systems they reject. And unlike Hassan or Lalich, my connection with Brandie was personal. And that’s why I felt this warranted an entire podcast episode. Because what happened with her is a microcosm of a larger issue: people leaving high-control spaces only to re-enter new ones. They are convinced that this time, they’ve finally found the “truth.” Spoiler alert: that’s not how truth works.

So, let’s talk about it.


Blocked for Asking Questions

Recently, Brandie posted on Instagram about DARVO—a psychological tactic where abusers Deny, Attack, and Reverse Victim and Offender to avoid accountability. I agree that MLMs use DARVO. But I wanted to add friendly pushback, that I’ve noticed anti-MLM advocates use similar tactics to silence critics—especially when it comes to questioning the food industry— but she had turned the comments off.

So I went to Substack, wrote a note, tagged her and asked for us to have a discussion. and that’s when she blocked me. Not for being aggressive. Not for being rude. But for questioning her narrative.

So much for open conversation.

DARVO: The Classic Manipulation Tactic

DARVO stands for Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender—a tactic frequently used by abusers, cult leaders, and high-control groups when they’re called out. It flips accountability on its head, making the person asking legitimate questions seem like the aggressor while the actual manipulator plays the victim.

How MLMs Use DARVO

Multi-Level Marketing (MLM) schemes thrive on DARVO because their entire business model is built on deception. Here’s a classic example:

  1. Deny – A distributor is confronted with the fact that 99% of people in MLMs lose money. Instead of addressing the data, they deny it completely:
    “That’s just a myth! I know tons of people making six figures!”
  2. Attack – When pressed further, they go on the offensive, accusing the skeptic of being negative or jealous:
    “Wow, you’re so close-minded. No wonder you’re not successful!”
  3. Reverse Victim and Offender – Finally, they paint themselves as the victim and the questioner as the bully:
    “I’m just a woman trying to build a business and empower others. Why are you trying to tear me down?”

This tactic shuts down meaningful discussion and keeps people trapped in a system that exploits them.

Do you know what else exploits individuals? Fear and propaganda.

I saw this firsthand in a recent conversation with a friend who’s deeply entrenched in leftist ideologies and what I’d call “Trump Derangement Syndrome.” She shared a post warning people to change their bank accounts because of a false claim that Elon Musk’s staff had access to personal financial data. I pointed out that the post was misinformation, but instead of engaging with the facts, the conversation quickly shifted in a way that mirrors the DARVO tactic.

First, she denied that the post could be harmful or misleading. Then, she attacked me for not understanding the larger “fear” that people are feeling in the current political climate. Finally, she reversed the roles, casting herself as the victim of a chaotic world and me as the one creating unnecessary tension by questioning the post.

This is a textbook example of DARVO, a tactic that deflects accountability, shifts blame, and keeps people trapped in fear-driven narratives. It keeps them from having honest, fact-based conversations and prevents any real understanding of what’s going on around them.

How Brandie Used DARVO on Me

Ironically, despite being an anti-MLM advocate, Brandie used the exact same manipulation tactics when I pushed back on some of her positions. This is a woman who criticizes manipulative marketing tactics in MLMs, yet here she was, employing the very same tactics in our discussion. It’s a stark example of how these patterns can be so ingrained that even those who oppose them can fall into using them.

Deny – When I questioned her promotion of dietitians who endorse processed foods like Clif Z Bars (which recently faced a class-action lawsuit for misleading health claims), she refused to acknowledge the legitimate concerns. Instead, she dismissed it by claiming that caring about food ingredients was more stressful for the body than just eating the food itself—a false dichotomy that undermines any nuance in the conversation, especially when she often critiques the same logical fallacy in other contexts.

Attack – Rather than engaging with my points, she made it personal, implying that I was being antagonistic or bad-faith for even questioning her stance.

Reverse Victim and Offender – Finally, when I didn’t back down, she blocked me, flipping the narrative to make it seem like I was the one causing harm simply by asking questions.


When Therapy Becomes Thought Control: The Weaponization of Mental Health

What makes this dynamic even more interesting is that both my friend in Portland and Brandie, an anti-MLM advocate, are therapists. These conversations have all unfolded within a culture that professes to value feelings, emotional well-being, and mental health awareness. More people are going to therapy than ever before, and an increasing number of people are training to become therapists—mostly women. Currently, around 70-80% of psychologists and therapists are female, and those seeking help are also more likely to be female.

The field has increasingly become a vehicle for ideological activism. Dr. Roger McFillin has spoken extensively about this shift, describing how therapy now often reinforces victimhood narratives rather than fostering resilience. Instead of helping clients process experiences and build coping skills, many therapists nudge them toward predetermined ideological conclusions—especially in areas of identity, oppression, and systemic injustice.

This shift has eroded one of psychology’s most fundamental ethical principles: informed consent. Clients, particularly young and vulnerable individuals, are often funneled into ideological frameworks without realizing it. Under the guise of “affirming care” or “social justice-informed therapy,” therapists may subtly guide them toward specific worldviews rather than offering a full range of perspectives. What should be a process of self-discovery instead becomes thought reform, where questioning the prevailing narrative is framed as harmful or regressive.

Therapy is no longer just political—it has become a mechanism of enforcement. We see this in counseling programs that demand ideological conformity from students, in therapists who blur the line between clinical work and activism, and in public figures like Janja Lalich and Steven Hassan, who claim to expose undue influence while engaging in the same tactics. This is ideological gatekeeping disguised as expertise.

Rather than fostering open exploration, the field is increasingly defined by rigid dogma. Questioning the dominant ideology isn’t framed as critical thinking—it’s labeled as resistance, ignorance, or even harm. And when that happens, dissenting voices aren’t debated; they’re erased. If this trend continues, therapy won’t just be a tool for self-improvement. It will be a tool for social control. It already is.


The Hypocrisy of Selective Skepticism

Brandie and the anti-MLM crowd claim to combat misinformation, yet they overlook a significant issue: the influence of Big Food and Big Pharma on public health narratives.

On her social media story and in private conversations, Brandie has defended dietitians who actively promote ultra-processed foods. Some registered dietitians with large platforms endorse products like Hawaiian Punch and Clif Z Bars as acceptable—even healthy—options.

Clif Z Bars, for example, were recently involved in a $12 million class action settlement for falsely marketing their products as “healthy and nutritious.” These bars are 37% added sugar, essentially sugar bombs.

Yet, a dietitian Brandie supports feeds these bars to her young children, publicly calling them a “healthy snack.” Why is this not considered misinformation?

A deeper issue lies in the conflicts of interest within the nutrition field. 95% of the 2020 U.S. Dietary Guidelines Advisory Committee members had conflicts of interest with the food and pharmaceutical industries. Many had financial ties to corporations like Kellogg, Abbott, Kraft, Mead Johnson, General Mills, and Dannon. Similarly, a 2023 report by U.S. Right to Know revealed that 65% of the 2025 Dietary Guidelines Advisory Committee had high-risk or medium-risk conflicts of interest with industry actors like Novo Nordisk, the National Dairy Council, Eli Lilly, and Weight Watchers International.

Interestingly, both Clif Z Bars and Hawaiian Punch—the two foods mentioned in this discussion—are owned by Mondelēz International, a company that has faced scrutiny over its ties to government-advising scientists and other potential conflicts of interest. This raises an important question: How much of what we’re told by credentialed experts is shaped by corporate influence rather than unbiased science?

These conflicts of interest raise serious concerns about industry influence over public health recommendations. Yet, if you question this, you’re labeled anti-science.

This kind of blind faith in authority is no different from religious dogma. The pursuit of truth should always leave room for debate. This also highlights why blindly trusting “credentialed experts” is insufficient. Degrees and titles don’t guarantee that recommendations are free from corporate influence.

Rather than acknowledge these conflicts, Brandie and her followers discredit those asking valid questions, often accusing them of using the “Just Asking Questions” fallacy.

The “Just Asking Questions” Fallacy

A common tactic used to dismiss skepticism is labeling it as the “Just Asking Questions” (JAQ) fallacy. This fallacy occurs when people imply that merely questioning an issue is a form of misinformation or bad faith argumentation.

Many dietitians and anti-MLM advocates are deeply entrenched in mainstream narratives on topics like vaccine safety, climate change, and pharmaceutical efficacy. When skeptics ask pointed questions about these subjects, they are often accused of using JAQing off—a term that suggests they are sowing doubt without providing counter-evidence. The accusation assumes that asking difficult questions is inherently conspiratorial, rather than a legitimate means of inquiry.

But skepticism is not the same as denialism. Critical thinking demands that we interrogate all claims—especially those made by institutions with financial or ideological incentives. Dismissing questions outright only serves to protect entrenched power structures.


The Counterpoint: Intellectual Humility and the Dogma of Data

While it’s vital to engage critically with the information we’re presented, it’s equally crucial to consider the potential pitfalls of blind adherence to any ideology—whether it’s religious, political, or scientific. In the modern age, science and data have often become the new forms of dogma. The scientific community, which prides itself on skepticism and inquiry, is sometimes treated as an unassailable authority—leaving no room for dissent or alternative perspectives.

The worship of science and data as infallible can feel eerily similar to religious dogma. It demands conformity in the name of progress, dismisses alternative viewpoints, and often shuts down debate—all while asserting that it’s in the name of critical thinking and rationality. In this system, the pursuit of truth can ironically become an exercise in tribalism and intellectual rigidity.

What is critical to recognize is that science and reason themselves are not immune to bias, corruption, or influence. Take, for example, the “revolving door” between regulatory agencies and the pharmaceutical industry, which compromises the integrity of public health policies. This conflict of interest is a significant factor in the mistrust surrounding many mainstream health recommendations, especially when we see how corporate interests shape the outcomes of clinical trials, the approval of drugs, or public health initiatives.

Take the nutrition field, for example. The dietitian mentioned earlier endorses Clif Z Bars for her young children, but if you challenge this, you’re accused of being anti-science or fear-mongering.

Similarly, when figures like RFK Jr. highlight pharmaceutical industry ties to regulatory agencies, critics don’t engage with the data. Instead, they attempt to discredit the person asking the questions.

The Real Issue is Deception from Trusted Intuitions

The real misinformation often stems from corporate-backed institutions. Public trust in physicians and hospitals fell from 71.5% in April 2020 to 40.1% in January 2024—not due to misinformation, but because people witnessed firsthand the contradictions, shifting narratives, and financial incentives behind public health decisions. Trust is eroded by deception, not by questioning.

RFK Jr. isn’t “sowing doubt” for the sake of it. He’s pointing out documented cases where pharmaceutical companies have manipulated clinical trials, buried adverse data, and exercised significant influence over regulatory bodies. His book The Real Anthony Fauci outlines a heavily researched case against the unchecked power of Big Pharma and its ties to government agencies. If his claims were false, he would face lawsuits, yet his work continues to spark vital discussions.

True skepticism means demanding better science, not blindly trusting authority. The real danger lies in silencing those who ask critical questions.


Big Food and the Shaming of Health Advocates

A recent study has revealed something I find all too familiar: intimidation tactics used by industries like Big Tobacco, ultra-processed food companies, and alcohol sectors to bully and silence researchers, whistleblowers, and anyone challenging their agenda. This tactic—used by Big Food to discredit critics—reminds me of the way people are shamed or bullied for questioning processed foods or advocating for healthier diets. If you’ve ever pointed out the risks of sugary snacks or fast food, you’ve probably been labeled an extremist, a health-obsessed “wellness warrior,” or worse, a “purity culture” advocate. I can’t help but feel this is just another form of gaslighting, where we’re told that it’s worse to worry about the ingredients in our food than it is to consume those ingredients, even if they are known to contribute to chronic health conditions.

Ironically, this kind of manipulation is the same strategy Big Tobacco used for decades to muddy the waters around the health risks of smoking. And now, ultra-processed food companies are doing the same thing—distracting us from the very real, documented consequences of a poor diet.


Why We Need to Trust Ourselves, Not JUST the Experts

What frustrates me is how the anti-MLM community often jumps on wellness advocates who want to clean up their diets for health reasons. While I agree that MLMs are a breeding ground for manipulation, this should not mean we ignore the very real need to question the food industry’s stranglehold on our diets and health. It’s vital to recognize that not all experts have your best interests at heart. Many of the mainstream recommendations we’re told to follow come from organizations or industries with questionable motives—whether it’s Big Pharma, Big Food, or Big Tobacco. These same industries have a long history of misleading the public, and many of their experts are bought and paid for by corporate interests.

Wanting to improve your diet to manage or reverse chronic health conditions shouldn’t be dismissed as obsessive or extreme. It’s a rational, self-preserving choice that empowers you to take control of your health, even when the mainstream narrative tells you otherwise.


Is This Healing or Just Another High-Control Belief System?

Brandie often talks about “cult recovery” and the importance of psychological resilience. But is she really modeling resilience? Because true resilience isn’t about avoiding discomfort—it’s about engaging with it, questioning your own biases, and standing firm in discussions, even when they challenge your worldview.

Instead, she’s teaching people to coddle their minds. To create ideological echo chambers where questioning the “right” experts is heresy. To avoid any perspective that might cause discomfort. If she’s teaching people to avoid discomfort rather than work through it, I’m not sure how that aligns with the principles of ethical psychotherapy.

True healing requires grappling with discomfort, not running from it. When you teach people to shut down their discomfort rather than confront it, you’re not promoting growth—you’re just pushing them into another high-control belief system.

That’s not healing. That’s just another form of control.

And let’s be real—if your response to fair, thoughtful criticism is to shut down the conversation and block people who used to support you, you haven’t actually deconstructed anything. You’ve just built a new echo chamber with different branding.


The Bigger Picture

This isn’t just about Brandie. It’s about a larger pattern I see in the deconstruction and anti-MLM communities. Many of them claim to be freeing minds, but in reality, they’re just recruiting people into a different kind of ideological purity test.

The message is clear: You’re allowed to be skeptical, but only in the “approved” ways.

That’s not intellectual freedom. That’s just another cult.


Where Do We Go From Here?

We need real conversations about manipulation and misinformation—whether it comes from MLMs, Big Food, Big Pharma, or influencer dietitians who profit from pushing corporate-backed narratives. It means we need to question everything—without replacing one unquestionable authority with another. And we need to be willing to hold all forms of power accountable, not just the ones that fit neatly into our existing beliefs.

Because if we’re not careful, we’ll escape one high-control group only to fall right into another.

Sources:

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.

Unveiling Evangelicalism: From High-Control Practices to Spiritual Trauma

Challenging the Narrow View: Understanding Spiritual Trauma Beyond the IBLP

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.

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.

⛓️Evangelicalism is the opposite of freedom. ⛓️

A high-control religion is a religious group that exercises significant control over its members’ lives, including their beliefs, behaviors, relationships, and access to information.

Evangelical Christianity often exerts high levels of control over its members by demanding strict adherence to its interpretations of the Bible.

Members may be expected to attend multiple church services and small group meetings each week, adhere to moral codes regarding sexuality, substance use, and entertainment, and prioritize church activities over other aspects of life.

The lie of penal substitutionary atonement theory, original sin, fear of hell and eternal damnation is frequently used to enforce compliance and discourage questioning.

Evangelical communities may also encourage social isolation from non-believers, creating an insular environment where dissenting views are discouraged and conformity is enforced.

These practices and teachings illustrate how Christianity, particularly in its more conservative and fundamentalist forms, exhibits the characteristics of a high-control religion.

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