The Real Handmaid’s Tale Isn’t in America

Between Liberation and Collapse: Why We Need to Talk About the Middle Path

Welcome back to Taste Test Thursdays, where we explore health, culture, belief, and everything in between. I’m your host, Megan Leigh and today, we’re asking a question that’s bound to make someone uncomfortable:

What if the very institutions we tore down as oppressive… were also protecting us?

We live in a time of extremes. On one side, you’ve got Quiverfull-style fundamentalists preaching hyper-fertility and wifely submission like it’s the only antidote to modern decay. On the other, we’ve got a postmodern buffet of “do what you want, gender is a vibe, all structures are violence.”

And if you’re like me—having navigated the high-control religion pipeline but also come out the other side—you might be wondering…

“Wait… does anyone believe in guardrails anymore?”

Because spoiler: freedom without form becomes chaos. And chaos isn’t empowering. It’s destabilizing.

I truly believe that structure and boundaries can actually serve a purpose—especially when it comes to sex, gender, and human flourishing.

This isn’t a call to go backward. It’s a call to pause, zoom out, and ask: what’s been lost in our so-called progress? Let’s dig in.

The Panic Playbook

This past summer, the media went full apocalyptic. You couldn’t scroll, stream, or tune in without hearing it: Christian nationalism is taking over. Project 2025 is a fascist manifesto. Trump is a theocratic threat to democracy itself. The narrative was everywhere—breathless Substacks, viral TikToks, and cable news countdowns to Gilead.

But while progressives were busy hallucinating handmaids and framing every Republican vote as the end of America, they were also helping cover up the biggest political scandal since Watergate: Biden’s cognitive decline.

This blog isn’t a right-wing defense or a leftist takedown. It’s a wake-up call. Because authoritarian creep doesn’t wear just one team’s jersey. If we’re serious about resisting tyranny, we need to stop fearmongering about theocracy and start interrogating the power grabs happening under our own banners—especially the ones cloaked in compassion, inclusion, and “equity.”


Not All “Christian Nationalism” Is the Same—Let’s Break It Down

The term “nationalism” gets thrown around a lot, but it actually has different meanings:

🔸 1. The Theocratic Extreme
This is the version everyone fears—and with good reason.

  • Belief: Government should follow biblical law.
  • Goal: A Christian theocracy where dissent is treated as rebellion.
  • Associated with: Christian Reconstructionism, Dominionism, and groups hostile to pluralism.
    📍 Reality: This is fringe. Most evangelicals don’t support this, but it’s the go-to boogeyman in media and deconstruction circles.

🔸 2. Civic or Cultural Nationalism
More common, less scary.

  • Belief: Shared culture—language, customs, even religion—can create unity.
  • Goal: Strong national identity and cohesion, not exclusion.
  • Seen in: France’s secularism, Japan’s cultural pride, and even Fourth of July BBQs.
    📍 Reality: This is where most “Christian nationalists” actually land. They believe in the U.S.’s Christian roots and want to preserve those values—not enforce a theocracy.

🔸 3. Patriotism (Often Mislabeled as Nationalism)
Here’s where it gets absurd.

  • Belief: Loving your country and its traditions.
  • Goal: A moral, thriving republic.
    📍 Reality: Critics lump this in with extremism to discredit conservatives, centrists, or people of faith.

Why It Matters

Lumping everyone—from flag-waving moderates to dominionist hardliners—into one “Christian nationalist” category fuels moral panic. It shuts down real dialogue and replaces nuance with hysteria.

You can:

✅ Love your country
✅ Value strong families
✅ Want morality in public life

…without wanting a theocracy.

Let’s Define the Terms Critics Confuse:

  • Dominionism: A fringe movement pushing for Christian control of civic life. Exists, but not mainstream.
  • Quiverfull: Ultra-niche belief in having as many kids as possible for religious reasons. Rare and extreme.
  • Christian Nationalism: Belief that the U.S. has a Christian identity that should shape culture and law. Vague, often misapplied.

And What It Isn’t:

  • Pro-natalism: A global concern over falling birth rates—not just a religious thing.
  • Conservative Feminism: Belief in empowerment through family and tradition. Dismissing it as brainwashing is anti-feminist.
  • Family Values: Often demonized, but for many, it just means prioritizing marriage, kids, and legacy.

Not all traditionalism is fascism.
Not all progressivism is liberation.
Let’s keep the conversation honest.


Hillary’s “Handmaid” Moment

Hilary Clinton🎧 “Well, first of all, don’t be a handmaiden to the patriarchy. Which kind of eliminates every woman on the other side of the aisle, except for very few. First, we have to get there, and it is obviously so much harder than it should be. So, if a woman runs who I think would be a good president, as I thought Kamala Harris would be, and as I knew I would be, I will support that woman.”

This quote from Hillary Clinton caused predictable outrage—but what’s more disturbing than the clip is the sentiment behind it.

In one breath, she managed to dismiss millions of women—mothers, caretakers, homemakers, conservative politicians, religious traditionalists—as unwitting slaves to male domination. Clinton doesn’t leave room for the idea that a woman might freely choose to prioritize home, faith, or family—not because she’s brainwashed, but because she’s pragmatic, thoughtful, and in tune with her own values.

To Clinton, there’s one legitimate type of woman in politics: the woman who governs like Hillary Clinton.

This framework—that conservative, traditional, or religious women are “handmaidens”—isn’t new. It’s a familiar talking point in progressive circles. And lately, it’s been weaponized even more boldly, as Clinton revealed in another recent statement:

“…blatant effort to basically send a message, most exemplified by Vance and Musk and others, that, you know, what we really need from you women are more children. And what that really means is you should go back to doing what you were born to do, which is to produce more children. So this is another performance about concerns they allegedly have for family life. Return to the family, the nuclear family. Return to being a Christian nation. Return to, you know, producing a lot of children, which is sort of odd because the people who produce the most children in our country are immigrants and they want to deport them, so none of this adds up.”

This is where modern feminism loses its plot. If liberation only counts when women make certain kinds of choices, it’s not about freedom then.


The Pro-Natalism Panic—and the Projection Problem

🎧 “Although the Quiverfull formal life isn’t necessarily being preached, many of the underlying theological and practical assumptions are elevated… and now, you know, they’re in the White House.”
Emily Hunter McGowin, guest on In the Church Library podcast with Kelsey Kramer McGinnis and Marissa Franks Burt

There’s a subtle but dangerous trend happening in the deconstruction space: lumping all traditional Christian views of family into the Quiverfull/Dominionist bucket.

In a recent episode of In the Church Library, the hosts and guest reflected on the rise of pro-natalist ideas and Christian influence in politics. Marissa asks whether the ideology behind the Quiverfull movement might be getting a new rebrand—and Emily responds with what sounds like a chilling observation: echoes of that movement are now in the White House.

But let’s pause.

❗ The Quiverfull movement is real—but it’s fringe. It’s not representative of all evangelicals, conservatives, or even Christian pro-family thinking.

Yet increasingly, any policy or belief that values marriage, child-rearing, or generational stability gets painted with that same extremist brush. This is where projection replaces analysis.

Take J.D. Vance, often scapegoated in these conversations. He’s frequently accused of trying to turn America into Gilead—even though he has three children, supports working-class families, and hasn’t once called for a theocracy. His concern? America’s birthrate is in freefall.

That’s not theocracy. That’s math.

Pro-natalism isn’t about forcing women to give birth. It’s about grappling with a demographic time bomb. Countries like South Korea, Hungary, and Italy are facing societal collapse because too few people are having children. This isn’t moral panic—it’s math.

Even secular thinkers are sounding the alarm:

Lyman Stone, an economist and demographer, emphasizes: “Lower fertility rates are harbingers of lower economic growth, less innovation, less entrepreneurship, a weakened global position, any number of factors… But for me, the thing I worry about most is just disappointment. That is a society where most people grow old alone with little family around them, even though they wanted a family.”

Paul Morland, a British demographer, warns: “We’ve never seen anything like this kind of population decline before. The Black Death wiped out perhaps a third of Europe, but we’ve never seen an inverted population pyramid like the one we have today. I can’t see a way out of this beyond the supposedly crazy notion that people should try to have more kids.”

We have to be able to separate structure from subjugation. There’s a world of difference between saying “families matter” and forcing women into barefoot-and-pregnant obedience.

When we flatten every traditional idea into a fundamentalist threat, we not only lose clarity—we alienate people who are genuinely seeking meaning, stability, and community in a fragmented culture.

If we want to be intellectually honest, we must distinguish:

  • Extremism vs. Order
  • Oppression vs. Structure
  • Religious Tyranny vs. Social Cohesion

And we should probably stop pretending that every road leads to the Handmaid’s Tale.


Protective Powers: What Louise Perry and Joan Brumberg Reveal About Institutions

Let’s talk about The Case Against the Sexual Revolution by Louise Perry. Perry is a secular feminist. She’s not nostalgic for 1950s housewife culture—but she is asking: what did we actually get from the sexual revolution?

Here’s her mic-drop:

“The new sexual culture didn’t liberate women. It just asked them to participate in their own objectification with a smile.”

We built an entire culture around the idea that as long as it’s consensual, it’s empowering. But Perry argues that consent—without wisdom, without boundaries, without institutional protection—leaves women wide open to harm.

She points to:

  • Porn culture
  • Casual hookups
  • The normalization of sexual aggression and coercion in dating

These aren’t signs of liberation—they’re signs of a society that privatized female suffering and told us to smile through it.

Perry doesn’t say “go full tradwife.” But she does say maybe marriage, sexual restraint, and even modesty functioned as protective constraints—not just patriarchal tools of oppression.

We traded one form of pressure (be pure, stay home) for another (be hot, work hard, never need a man). Neither version asked what women actually want.

Now flip over to The Body Project by Joan Jacobs Brumberg. This one blew my mind.

She traces how, a century ago, girls were taught to cultivate inner character: honesty, kindness, self-control.

By the late 20th century? That inner moral development had been replaced by bodily self-surveillance: thigh gaps, clear skin, flat stomachs. Girls now focus on looking good, not being good.

She writes:

“The body has become the primary expression of self for teenage girls.”

Think about that. We went from teaching virtue to teaching girls how to market themselves. We told them they were free—and then handed them Instagram and said, “Good luck.”

So again, maybe some of those “oppressive” structures were also serving as cultural scaffolding. Not perfect. Not painless. But they gave young people—especially girls—a script that wasn’t just: “Be hot, be available, and don’t catch feelings.”

Brumberg isn’t saying go back to corsets and courtship. But she is saying we’ve lost our moral imagination. We gave up teaching self-restraint and purpose and replaced it with branding. With body projects. And now we wonder why depression and anxiety are through the roof??

We dive deeper into these subjects in these two podcasts:


Why the Fear Feels Real—And Why It’s Still Misguided

Look, I get it.

If you’ve escaped religious trauma, purity culture, or spiritual abuse, the sight of a political figure talking about motherhood as a virtue can feel like a threat. Your nervous system registers it as a return to oppression. The media confirms your panic. And suddenly, a call for demographic survival starts sounding like a demand for forced birth.

But your trauma doesn’t make every policy that triggers you authoritarian. It just means you need to slow down and check the data.

Because ironically, the real threats to bodily autonomy and family structure? They might not be coming from traditionalists at all.


🏛 The Progressive Power Grab You’re Not Supposed to Question

Another frustrating comment made by Kelsey Kramer McGinnis in a recent podcast was the need to “decenter nuclear families” and the dismissal of concerns about an “attack on nuclear families” as mere panic. But here’s the thing—this fear isn’t fabricated. It’s not fringe. It’s rooted in observable cultural trends and policy shifts. You can’t just wave it away with smug academic detachment.

Whether you support the traditional family structure or not, the erosion of it has real consequences—especially for children, social stability, and intergenerational resilience. Calling that out isn’t fearmongering. It’s an invitation to discuss the stakes honestly.

Let’s set the record straight: The desire to shape culture, laws, and education systems is not the sole domain of religious conservatives. Dominionist Christians aren’t the only ones with blueprints for a theocratic society. Progressive activists also seek to remake the world in their image—one institution at a time.

This isn’t a right-wing “whataboutism.” It’s an honest observation about how ideological movements—regardless of political lean—operate when they gain influence.

Let’s take a look at what this looks like on both ends of the spectrum:

🏛 Dominionism (Far-Right Christian Nationalism)

Core Belief: Christians are mandated by God to bring every area of life—government, education, business—under biblical authority.

Tactics:

  • Homeschool curricula promoting biblical literalism and creationism.
  • Campaigns for Christian prayer in public schools or Ten Commandments monuments in courthouses.
  • Promoting the idea that America was founded as a Christian nation and must return to those roots.
  • Electing openly Christian lawmakers with the explicit goal of reshaping law and public policy to reflect “biblical values.”
  • Supporting the Quiverfull movement, which encourages large families to “outbreed the left” and raise up “arrows for God’s army.”

📘 Progressive Institutional Capture (Far-Left Activism)

Core Belief: Society must be dismantled and rebuilt to eliminate systemic oppression, centering race, gender, and identity as primary moral lenses.

Tactics:

  • Embedding DEI (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion) frameworks into public schools, universities, and corporate policy.
  • Redefining gender and sex in school curricula while often sidelining parental input or community values.
  • Elevating “lived experience” over objective standards in hiring, curriculum design, and academic research.
  • Weaponizing social media and institutional policies to punish dissenting views (labeling them as “harmful,” “unsafe,” or “hateful”).
  • Using activist lingo to obscure government overreach (“gender-affirming care” vs. irreversible medical intervention for minors).

🔄 Shared Behaviors: The Race to Capture Institutions

Despite their stark differences in values, both dominionists and far-left activists behave in eerily similar ways:

  • They seek cultural dominance through schools, law, media, and public policy.
  • They view their moral framework as not just legitimate but necessary for a just society.
  • They suppress dissent by pathologizing disagreement—branding critics as “anti-Christian,” “bigoted,” “transphobic,” “groomers,” or “domestic extremists.”

The battleground is no longer just the ballot box. It’s the school board meeting. The state legislature. The HR department. The university curriculum. The TikTok algorithm.

Colorado’s HB25-1312 — The “Kelly Loving Act”

Signed in May 2025, this law expands protections for transgender individuals. Fine on the surface. But here’s the fine print:

  • It redefines coercive control to include misgendering and deadnaming.
  • In custody cases, a parent who refuses to affirm a child’s gender identity could now be framed as abusive—even if that child is a minor in the midst of rapid-onset gender dysphoria.

Is it protecting kids? Or is it using identity to override parental rights?

Washington State’s HB 1296

This bill guts the Parents’ Bill of Rights (which was approved by voters via Initiative 2081). It:

  • Eliminates mandatory parental access to children’s health records (including mental health).
  • Enshrines gender identity and sexual orientation in a new “Student Bill of Rights.”
  • Allows state-level monitoring of school boards that don’t comply.

And the cherry on top? It was passed with an emergency clause so it would take effect immediately, bypassing normal legislative scrutiny.

This isn’t some abstract culture war. These are real laws, passed in real states, stripping real parents of their authority.


A Marxist Framework Masquerading as Compassion

Some of these changes echo critical theory more than constitutional liberty.

Historically, Marxist and Maoist ideologies viewed the family unit as an oppressive structure that needed dismantling. Parental authority was often seen as an extension of capitalist control. In its place? State-affirmed loyalty, reeducation, and ideological uniformity.

Now, it’s not happening with red stars and gulags—it’s happening through rainbow flags and DEI seminars. But the power dynamics are the same:

The family becomes secondary to the state.
Dissent becomes dangerous.
Disagreement becomes “violence.”

This is how authoritarianism creeps in—wrapped in the language of safety and inclusion.


What Real Theocracy Looks Like

If you need a reality check, read Yasmine Mohammed’s Unveiled. Raised in a fundamentalist Muslim home, where women had no autonomy, no basic rights, and no freedom. She was forced into hijab at age 9, married off to an al-Qaeda operative, and beaten for asking questions. Women cannot see a doctor without a male guardian, they are forced to cover every inch of their bodies and are denied access to education and even the right to drive. That’s theocracy. That is TRUE oppression.

Now contrast that with the freedom that women enjoy in the West today. In modern America, women have more rights and freedoms than at any point in history. Women can run around naked at Pride parades, express their sexuality however they choose, and redefine what it means to be a woman altogether. The very idea of a “dystopia” here is laughable when we consider the actual freedom women in the West enjoy.

Yet, despite these freedoms, many liberal women still cry oppression. They whine about having to pay for their student loans, birth control or endure debates over abortion restrictions. This level of cognitive dissonance—claiming victimhood while living in unprecedented freedom—is a slap in the face to women who actually suffer under real patriarchal oppression.

What’s even more Orwellian is how the left, in its quest for inclusivity and justice, is actively stripping others of their freedoms. They preach about fighting for freedom of speech while canceling anyone who disagrees with them. They claim to be champions of equality while weaponizing institutions to enforce ideological conformity.

Bottom line: If you think Elon Musk tweeting about birth rates is the same as what Yasmine went through? You’ve lost perspective.

To revisit my conversation with Yasmine:


Fear Isn’t Feminism

If your feminism can’t handle dissent, it was never liberation—it was just a prettier cage.

We have to stop mistaking fear for wisdom. We have to stop confusing criticism with violence. And we absolutely must stop handing our power over to ideologies that infantilize us in the name of compassion.

Let’s be clear: Gilead isn’t coming. But if we’re not careful, something just as destructive might.

A world where parents are powerless.
Where biology is negotiable but ideology is law.
Where compliance is the only virtue, and questions are a crime.

The Courage to Be Honest

What I’m suggesting isn’t fashionable. It doesn’t fit neatly in a progressive or conservative box. But I’m tired of those boxes.

I’ve lived in Portland’s secular utopia and inside a high-control religious environment. I’ve seen how each side distorts truth in the name of “freedom” or “righteousness.”

But what if true liberation is found in the tension between the two?

The most revolutionary thing we can do today is refuse to become an extremist.

Not because we’re afraid.
Not because we’re fence-sitters.
But because we believe there’s a better way—one that honors the past without being imprisoned by it and faces the future with clear eyes and moral courage.


Maintain your curiosity, embrace skepticism, and keep tuning in. 🎙️🔒

— Megan Leigh

📚 Source List for Blog Post

1. Hillary Clinton Quotes

  • Quote 1 (on being a “handmaiden to the patriarchy”):
    [Reference: “Defending Democracy” podcast with historian Heather Cox Richardson, May 2024]
    No official transcript published — you’re using a direct audio clip for this one.
  • Quote 2 (on pro-natalism and immigration):
    [Source: Same podcast — “Defending Democracy” with Heather Cox Richardson, 2024]
    Partial reference via The Independent article

2. Louise Perry


3. Mary Harrington


4. Demographer Paul Morland


5. Lyman Stone


6. Dominionism & Quiverfull Movement


7. Recent Legislation Affecting Parental Rights

Weaponized Forgiveness, Institutional Abuse, and Evangelical Justifications for Harm

Forgive and Forget? The Dark Side of Christian Forgiveness Culture

One of the main reasons I left mainstream Christianity is the way forgiveness has been weaponized. It’s used not as a path to healing but as a tool to silence victims, excuse harm, and protect institutions.

Instead of confronting abuse, many churches demand those survivors “forgive as they have been forgiven,” which conveniently shields perpetrators and absolves leadership from responsibility. Nowhere is this clearer than in the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC)—the largest Protestant denomination in the U.S.—which has spent decades covering up abuse while doing the bare minimum to protect children.

What Is the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC)?

The Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) is the largest Protestant denomination in the U.S., with over 47,000 churches and 13 million members as of 2024. Founded in 1845, the SBC split from northern Baptists over slavery and has since maintained a conservative theological stance.

The SBC holds complementarian beliefs, teaching that men and women have distinct, God-ordained roles with male headship in both the church and the home. This doctrine reinforces strict gender hierarchies, contributing to a culture of silence around abuse, particularly when male leaders are involved.


The SBC’s Persistent Failure to Protect Children

Despite its size and influence, the SBC has long failed to protect children from abuse. Recent reports show that only 58% of SBC-affiliated congregations require background checks for staff and volunteers working with children, and in smaller churches, this number drops to just 35%. A past audit revealed 12.5% of background checks flagged criminal histories that could disqualify individuals from church roles. These numbers underscore the SBC’s ongoing failure to address its own scandals.

Even if some churches struggle financially, it’s grossly irresponsible to assume volunteers are qualified without basic screenings. Churches should at the very least implement strict policies and mandatory training on abuse prevention and reporting—but the data proves otherwise.

Source: Southern Baptist Membership Decline Slows, Baptisms and Attendance Grow | Lifeway Research | May 7, 2024


SBC’s Hidden Influence: The Non-Denominational Loophole

Many churches that appear to be “non-denominational” are quietly affiliated with the SBC for financial and structural support. This means:

  • They may not openly use “Southern Baptist” in their name, yet still receive funding, resources, and pastoral training from the SBC.
  • Their leadership and policies often align with SBC doctrine, even if they market themselves as independent.
  • Some SBC-affiliated churches hide their connections to avoid association with the denomination’s abuse scandals, while still benefiting from its network.

This hidden network allows the SBC to maintain significant influence over American evangelicalism, even among those who believe they’re attending independent churches. And when scandals emerge, the denomination claims little accountability over individual churches, even as it continues to fund them.

  • The Guidepost Report (2022) exposed that SBC leadership maintained a secret list of over 700 abusive pastors, shielding them from consequences while survivors were ignored, discredited, or retaliated against.
  • Jennifer Lyell, an SBC abuse survivor, was vilified by church leadership when she came forward. Instead of support, she was publicly shamed, and her abuser faced no consequences.
  • Christa Brown, another survivor, spent years advocating for reform after being assaulted by her youth pastor. The SBC’s response? Stonewalling, gaslighting, and further silencing.

This is not an anomaly. It’s a pattern.


The Hillsong Scandal: A Deep Dive into Leadership, Accountability, and Institutional Culture

Hillsong Church, once hailed as a beacon of contemporary Christianity with its celebrity-driven worship services and massive global influence, has been mired in a series of scandals that have sent shockwaves through the church and beyond. The drama surrounding Hillsong reflects much deeper systemic issues within religious institutions, particularly those that prioritize celebrity culture, financial power, and unchecked leadership.

Brian Houston and His Father’s Abuse Scandal

At the heart of the Hillsong scandal is the case of Brian Houston and his handling of sexual abuse allegations against his father, Frank Houston, a founding member of the Assemblies of God in New Zealand. Frank Houston’s abuse of children became widely known, but Brian Houston’s failure to act—despite being aware of the allegations for decades—has raised serious questions about the church’s culture of secrecy and its prioritization of protecting its leaders over seeking justice for victims.

In 2021, Brian Houston was charged with covering up his father’s abuse, but he was acquitted in 2023. While the legal outcomes may be behind him, the moral and ethical questions surrounding his actions remain. His failure to report the abuse to the authorities and the lack of transparency in how Hillsong handled the situation speaks to the larger issue of institutions shielding leaders from accountability, especially when their actions threaten the church’s public image.

Carl Lentz and Leadership Failures

Another key figure in the Hillsong saga is Carl Lentz, the former lead pastor of Hillsong New York. Lentz’s celebrity status, especially his close relationships with figures like Justin Bieber, elevated him to international fame. But in 2020, Lentz was fired from his position after admitting to an extramarital affair. The church’s response to Lentz’s scandal raised more questions than answers. Hillsong failed to address the broader cultural issues at play—namely, a leadership model built on celebrity culture and a lack of accountability.

The church’s focus on its brand, public image, and the reputations of its leaders made it easier to overlook the toxic dynamics that led to Lentz’s behavior. His fall from grace demonstrated the dangers of elevating leaders to superstar status, where moral accountability is secondary to their influence and popularity.

Financial Mismanagement and Lack of Transparency

Financial scandals have also been a hallmark of Hillsong’s decline. Despite its non-profit status, Hillsong has faced accusations of lavish spending by its leaders, including Brian Houston, and financial mismanagement that prioritized the comfort of senior leaders over the needs of the congregation. Hillsong’s lack of financial transparency has led many to question how donations were being spent, particularly when its leaders were living luxurious lifestyles while the church’s financial practices remained opaque.

Reports have shown that church members had little insight into the church’s budgeting or financial decisions, raising alarms about how donations were being used. This financial opacity has created a culture of distrust, with many questioning whether Hillsong truly operated as a faith-based organization or as a business built around its leaders’ financial gain.

Celebrity Culture and Unchecked Leadership

The rise of Hillsong as a “celebrity church” is a clear example of the dangers of celebrity culture within religious organizations. Leaders like Brian Houston and Carl Lentz became more known for their status than their spiritual leadership. This culture created a disconnect between the mission of the church and the behaviors of those at its helm, fostering an environment where moral failings were excused, and accountability was pushed aside in favor of maintaining the church’s celebrity-driven image.

The celebrity culture at Hillsong is not an isolated phenomenon—many mega-churches and influential religious organizations have succumbed to similar dynamics. Leaders are often viewed as untouchable figures whose actions are excused because of their fame and influence. This lack of accountability has led to repeated scandals and a breakdown in trust between church leadership and their congregations.


A Culture of Silence and Protection

Celebrity culture and the culture of silence are both hallmarks of Christian culture, where forgiveness is weaponized to silence victims and maintain the church’s authority. Survivors who seek accountability are often told they are “bitter” or “holding onto unforgiveness,” while abusers are framed as sinners in need of grace.

This forced-reconciliation model doesn’t just silence victims—it actively enables abusers. Over and over, religious institutions have shielded predators while insisting their victims move on.

  • The Catholic Church sex abuse scandal followed the same pattern—priests were quietly transferred rather than removed.
  • The Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) was exposed in 2022 for covering up hundreds of abuse cases, prioritizing its reputation over protecting the vulnerable.
  • The Institute in Basic Life Principles (IBLP), made infamous by Shiny Happy People, used its teachings to guilt victims into silence, reinforcing submission as godliness.
  • The Mormon Church (LDS) has been accused of systematically covering up child sexual abuse, instructing bishops to handle cases internally rather than report them to authorities. The “help line” for abuse victims has been exposed as a legal shield to protect the church from liability.
  • Jehovah’s Witnesses have a longstanding pattern of protecting sexual predators under their “two-witness rule,” which requires at least two people to witness abuse for it to be considered valid. This impossible standard allows abusers to go unpunished while victims are shunned for speaking out.

This cycle continues because religious institutions prioritize obedience and reputation over accountability. Instead of advocating for justice, they demand submission—a dynamic that ensures abuse thrives in the shadows, disguised as grace.


The Evangelical Rejection of Modern Psychology

Many evangelicals reject modern psychology, fearing it undermines biblical authority and promotes a so-called “victim mentality.” Books like Bad Therapy are used to discredit trauma-informed approaches, mental health care, and gentle parenting—reinforcing the belief that obedience and submission matter more than emotional well-being.

But this isn’t just about dismissing psychology—it’s about control. Evangelical spaces often use forgiveness as a tool to suppress legitimate pain and absolve abusers of accountability. Instead of being a process that centers the victim’s healing, forgiveness is reframed as an obligation, a test of faith that prioritizes reconciliation over justice.

This kind of messaging pressures survivors into “forgiving and forgetting” under the guise of spiritual growth. As Susan Forward explains in Toxic Parents, this demand for immediate forgiveness often leads to “premature reconciliation,” where the victim is pushed to restore relationships without ever addressing the harm done. She describes how toxic family systems—and by extension, religious institutions—weaponize guilt, framing any resistance to reconciliation as bitterness, rebellion, or even sin. Forward emphasizes that true healing requires acknowledging pain, setting boundaries, and understanding that some relationships are too harmful to maintain. Forgiveness, in this sense, should never be about dismissing harm but about reclaiming personal agency.

Similarly, Pete Walker in The Tao of Fully Feeling critiques how many forgiveness frameworks, particularly those influenced by religious teachings, encourage victims to suppress righteous anger rather than process it. He argues that when people are pressured to forgive too soon, they bypass the necessary emotional work of grief and anger, which are essential steps in healing. Walker describes how survivors of abuse are often gaslit into believing that their pain is an obstacle to their spiritual growth rather than a justified response to harm. In contrast, he advocates for harvesting forgiveness out of blame—a process that allows victims to first fully validate their experiences, express their anger, and grieve their losses before even considering forgiveness. This approach reframes forgiveness as something that should serve the survivor’s well-being rather than the comfort of the perpetrator.

This is why modern psychology takes a different approach. Unlike evangelical teachings that frame forgiveness as a duty, trauma-informed perspectives recognize that forgiveness is a choice—one that should empower the survivor, not burden them with more guilt. True healing requires honoring all emotions, including anger, rather than rushing to absolution for the sake of appearances or religious pressure.


ACBC “Biblical Counseling”: When Religion Overrides Psychology

Another significant issue within certain Christian communities is the rise of the Biblical Counseling movement, particularly through the Association of Certified Biblical Counselors (ACBC) and its Nouthetic Counseling model. This approach starkly rejects psychological expertise and promotes the belief that biblical wisdom alone is sufficient to address mental health struggles, trauma, and even domestic violence. While this may seem like a spiritual response to real-world issues, it often exacerbates the trauma and leads to harmful advice.

One glaring problem with ACBC counseling is its lack of professional psychological training. Many of its so-called counselors do not possess accredited education in mental health fields. Instead, they rely on an outdated and rigid interpretation of scripture that reduces complex psychological issues to mere spiritual shortcomings. This is particularly dangerous in cases of trauma, mental illness, and domestic violence, where the guidance of trained mental health professionals is crucial.

Additionally, ACBC’s approach often results in victim-blaming, particularly for women who are struggling with abuse or neglect. Rather than providing the resources and support these women need, the movement encourages them to endure hardship with a sense of spiritual submission. This can exacerbate feelings of helplessness and self-blame, which are already prevalent among victims of abuse.

My Experience within ACBC Biblical Counseling

I was involved in a biblical counseling program that reinforced a system of patriarchal control, stifling my autonomy and presenting a distorted view of marriage and gender roles.

One of the most telling moments was when I encountered an excerpt from The Excellent Wife by Martha Peace in one of the workbooks. The list of expectations outlined for a wife to “glorify” her husband was staggering and disempowering. It included directives like:

  1. Organizing cleaning, grocery shopping, laundry, and cooking while fulfilling your “God-given responsibility” so that your husband is free to focus on his work.
  2. Saving some of your energy every day for him.
  3. Prioritizing your husband above children, parents, friends, jobs, Bible studies, etc., and rearranging your schedule whenever necessary to meet his needs.
  4. Speaking positively about him to others and never slandering him—even if what you’re saying is true.
  5. Doing whatever you can to make him look good, from running errands to helping accomplish his goals, while never taking offense if he chooses not to use your suggestions.
  6. Considering his work, goals, hobbies, and religious duties more important than your own.

As I’ve explained, these expectations weren’t just fringe ideas—they were central to the teachings of Biblical Counseling, widely embraced within the Southern Baptist Convention and many non-denominational churches. What I experienced wasn’t just about a partnership; it was about submission—unquestioning and absolute. The woman’s role was essentially to serve her husband’s needs and desires, no matter the cost to her own identity or autonomy.

But perhaps one of the most chilling aspects of this program was a statement that underscored the complete denial of personal rights. The workbook stated that humble people have “no rights” in Christ—only responsibilities. It referenced Philippians 2:3-8 to justify this perspective.

Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves. Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too. You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had.

The workbook then presented a list of “rights” that were seen as sinful or selfish to claim in this context. Some of the rights included:

  • The right to control personal belongings
  • The right to privacy
  • The right to express personal opinions
  • The right to earn and use money
  • The right to plan your own schedule
  • The right to respect
  • The right to be married, protected, appreciated, desired, and treated fairly
  • The right to travel, to have a good education, to be beautiful

There were over thirty items on this list. This wasn’t just a list of personal sacrifices; it was a grooming tool that laid the groundwork for further abuse and manipulation under the guise of spiritual obedience.

These teachings were not about partnership, love, or mutual respect. They were about control, and they left no room for the dignity and rights of individuals, especially women.

If you want to dive deeper into the power dynamics at play in these teachings, I highly recommend listening to this podcast that breaks down the power play behind these ideologies.

A study on women’s anger found that common triggers for anger in women include feelings of helplessness, not being listened to, perceived injustice, and the irresponsibility of others. Instead of addressing these genuine concerns, ACBC’s authoritarian approach often pushes women to submit further, casting aside their voices and their safety in favor of a misguided spiritual ideal. This not only exacerbates their mental health but creates an environment ripe for spiritual abuse.

Corporal Punishment and Legal Definitions of Abuse

A major component of ACBC’s teachings also intersects with the controversial use of corporal punishment, where a thin line between discipline and abuse is often blurred. In some evangelical communities, particularly those influenced by ACBC’s authoritarian doctrines, corporal punishment is defended as a necessary part of biblical discipline, despite overwhelming legal and psychological evidence that physical discipline can have long-term harmful effects.

One of the most enduring arguments for corporal punishment is the misquoted phrase, “Spare the rod, spoil the child.” However, this phrase does not originate from the Bible. It comes from a 17th-century satirical poem by Samuel Butler, Hudibras. Despite this, it continues to be used in evangelical circles to justify spanking, whipping, and other forms of physical punishment.

The Bible passages often cited to defend corporal punishment—Proverbs 13:24, 22:15, 23:13-14, 29:15, and Hebrews 12:5-13—are frequently interpreted in a rigid, literal manner by proponents of corporal punishment. However, this literal approach is a key part of what historian Mark Noll refers to as “the scandal of the evangelical mind.” This narrow hermeneutic reflects a resistance to modern biblical criticism, science, and intellectual inquiry. It prioritizes a literal interpretation of scripture without considering the historical, cultural, and literary context of these texts. As a result, the teachings of scripture are applied in ways that disregard the broader ethical and psychological implications of corporal punishment.

Despite the continued justification for corporal punishment in these circles, modern research overwhelmingly shows its harmful effects. Studies indicate that physical discipline can lead to increased aggression, mental health issues, and weakened parent-child relationships. Yet, many evangelicals remain unwilling to reconsider this harmful tradition, which reflects a broader resistance within conservative Christianity to engage with contemporary understandings of psychology, trauma recovery, and legal definitions of abuse.

To clarify what constitutes abuse, Congress enacted the Federal Child Abuse Prevention and Treatment Act (CAPTA) in 1974, defining physical abuse as:

The infliction of physical injuries such as bruises, burns, welts, cuts, bone and skull fractures, caused by kicking, punching, biting, beating, knifing, strapping, and paddling.

Despite this clear legal definition, corporal punishment remains legal in all 50 states, with 19 states still allowing paddling in schools. This creates a disturbing disconnect: what is considered child abuse in some settings (such as foster care) is still widely accepted in evangelical homes and schools, even when it causes lasting harm to children.

This tension highlights the problematic nature of ACBC’s teachings, which sometimes encourage discipline methods that can be classified as abusive under legal definitions. Rather than fostering healthy relationships between parents and children, these practices often reinforce cycles of harm and emotional neglect, contributing to the very psychological issues ACBC claims to address. The refusal to acknowledge these realities creates a fertile ground for continued spiritual and psychological abuse.


The Case of John MacArthur and Grace Community Church (GCC)

One of the most disturbing examples of ACBC counseling practices, combined with the authoritarian culture it fosters, can be seen in the actions of John MacArthur, the pastor of Grace Community Church in Sun Valley, California, and his church’s mishandling of abuse allegations.

MacArthur has long been a proponent of the Nouthetic Counseling model, promoting a brand of counseling that prioritizes submission and forgiveness above all else, even in cases of serious abuse. One such case involves Eileen Gray, a woman who endured severe abuse at the hands of her husband, David Gray, while seeking help from Grace Community Church. Instead of providing support or professional counseling, Eileen was told by church leaders that seeking outside help was “worldly” and wrong.

Eileen’s testimony reveals the disturbing practices within GCC, where she was repeatedly told to forgive her abuser even if he was not repentant. Pastor Carey Hardy, a close associate of MacArthur, allegedly taught Eileen the “threefold promise of forgiveness”—a concept detailed in a booklet by MacArthur himself. According to this model, forgiveness means acting as though the abuse never happened, never bringing it up again, and never sharing it with others. This approach not only trivializes the severity of abuse but also places the onus on the victim to endure suffering for the sake of forgiveness and spiritual purity.

What is perhaps most alarming is the pressure placed on Eileen to allow David back into the home and “model for the children how to suffer for Jesus.” Eileen was told to accept her husband’s abuse and, in a deeply misguided view, to make her children witness this suffering as an example of Christian resilience. When Eileen refused to allow her children to be exposed to further abuse, she was met with resistance and intimidation.

The Revelation of Abuse and MacArthur’s Dismissal

Despite Eileen’s pleas for help, GCC’s response was woefully inadequate. When Eileen eventually sought counsel from Alvin B. Barber, a pastor who had officiated her marriage, Barber corroborated her account of the abusive counseling she had received from Hardy. Barber’s testimony was a damning indictment of both Hardy and the church’s leadership, as he described how Eileen was told to submit to her abuser and accept the abuse as part of her spiritual journey.

Eileen’s refusal to allow her children to remain in an abusive environment ultimately led her to request removal from the church’s membership. However, in a shocking display of disregard for her safety and well-being, Grace Community Church denied her request and continued to maintain her as a member, further compounding the trauma she had already experienced.

In the wake of these revelations, MacArthur’s involvement in the case became a point of contention. While MacArthur publicly denounced David Gray’s actions and supported his conviction, he simultaneously failed to hold his own leadership accountable for their role in enabling the abuse. MacArthur’s contradictory statements and lack of transparency in addressing the failures of his church’s leadership reflect a deeper systemic issue within his ministry: a prioritization of church authority and reputation over the safety and well-being of its members.

The Larger Implications: Spiritual Abuse and Lack of Accountability

The case of Eileen Gray is far from an isolated incident. It highlights a pattern within certain corners of the evangelical church, where women’s voices are silenced, and their suffering is minimized in favor of preserving a theological ideal that values submission and suffering over justice and healing. This pattern can lead to widespread spiritual abuse, where individuals are subjected to harmful advice and counseling that prioritizes conformity over personal well-being.

Furthermore, the lack of accountability for church leaders like John MacArthur, who have enormous influence in evangelical circles, contributes to the perpetuation of this toxic culture. By refusing to acknowledge the harmful consequences of ACBC-style counseling and the dismissive responses to abuse victims, MacArthur and others in positions of power not only fail to protect the vulnerable but also send a message that spiritual authority trumps the dignity and safety of individuals.

In the case of John MacArthur’s response to abuse allegations within his church, we see a chilling example of how religious institutions, under the guise of biblical wisdom, can cause immense harm. Eileen Gray’s story is a reminder of the dangers of theological systems that prioritize submission, forgiveness, and authority without regard for the trauma and suffering of individuals.

As these abuses come to light, it’s essential to continue challenging the status quo and demand greater accountability from religious leaders and organizations that have long been able to operate with impunity. Victims of spiritual abuse must be heard, and their stories must be validated, not dismissed or ignored.


The Bigger Picture: Power, Control, and the Misuse of Forgiveness

Whether we’re talking about institutional abuse, forced forgiveness, corporal punishment, or the rejection of psychology, the common denominator is control.

Evangelicals often claim that therapy “makes people feel like victims”, yet they embrace an even bigger victim narrative—the belief that Christians are under attack, that psychology is a threat, and that questioning church authority is dangerous.

Modern psychology isn’t perfect. Some aspects can promote excessive victimhood narratives. But that doesn’t mean psychology is inherently bad.

What we need is balance:

  • Healing that acknowledges real harm without trapping people in a victim identity.
  • Forgiveness as a choice, not a weapon.
  • Accountability for abusers, not silence for survivors.

Forgiveness should never be used to:

❌ Silence victims

❌ Excuse abuse

❌ Bypass justice

Discipline should never be an excuse for violence.
Faith should never be a shield for abusers.

Final Thoughts

Leaving mainstream Christianity wasn’t about rejecting faith—it was about rejecting an abusive system that prioritizes power over people.

If the church truly cared about justice, it would:

✔️ Prioritize abuse prevention over “cheap grace.”
✔️ Hold abusers accountable instead of demanding forced forgiveness.
✔️ Recognize that psychology isn’t a threat—but unchecked religious authority is.

It’s time to stop justifying harm in the name of God.

If you’re questioning a church’s affiliation with the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC), here are a few ways to check:

  • Ask directly—but be aware that some churches may downplay or obscure their affiliation.
  • Look for “Great Commission Baptists”—a rebranded term used by some SBC churches to distance themselves from controversy.
  • Use the SBC church locator tool online.
  • Investigate whether the church’s pastors were trained at SBC seminaries (e.g., Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary).

But here’s the thing: A new approach is emerging—one that focuses on community-driven solutions to address the consequences of institutional failures. Transparency, accountability, and education are now essential for organizations to operate ethically in the 21st century.

As these movements grow, it’s clear that change is happening. If you’re interested in exploring these shifts, especially within religious institutions, check out the upcoming docuseries dropping this Easter Sunday. It will dive deep into the pressing need for institutional reform, highlighting the intersection of religious nonprofits and the modern world. The series will explore the ethical, financial, and leadership issues many faith-based organizations face today. For more information, visit The Religion Business.

Consent Isn’t Enough: The Harsh Truth About “Sex Work”

Beyond the Glamour: The Dark Reality of the Sex Industry

Welcome back to Taste of Truth Tuesdays. Today’s episode is one that I’ve both been eager and hesitant to share. While I’ve spoken about my journey through faith, fitness and personal transformation that there’s one chapter I’ve largely kept private until now….

For most of my life, I was fed a specific narrative: go to college, get a degree, build a career, and don’t worry about prioritizing marriage or family. Financial independence was the ultimate goal.

After graduating college, I moved from Virginia to Portland, Oregon, to chase my career as a personal trainer, lifestyle coach, and professional circus performer. My income relied on clientele, and while I had busy seasons, nothing was ever truly stable. But with inconsistent income and the ever-present pressure to make ends meet, I found myself in a space that many glamorize but few truly understand—the world of sugar dating.

At first, it didn’t seem that different from the casual dating I was already doing—except now, dinner was covered, and there was a financial incentive. But the deeper I got, the more I realized how unstable and unsafe it was. Most of these men didn’t care about you as a person; they just wanted no-strings-attached access to your body. And when I found myself in situations where I wasn’t in control—where boundaries were ignored, protection was negotiable, and at times, I left empty-handed even after doing my part—I started to see the cracks in the ‘empowerment’ narrative. I remember one night, sitting in my car after being verbally and physically assaulted, I realized I had no one to report it to. No way to warn the next woman. That’s when the illusion fully shattered for me.

That’s why today’s conversation is so important. I’m joined by Sloane Wilson from Exodus Cry, an organization dedicated to exposing the truth about sexual exploitation and advocating for survivors. We’re unpacking the hard truths about the sex industry, the myths that keep women trapped in it, and the cultural shifts that have normalized what should never be considered “just work.”

But we’re also diving into something deeper, faith. Both Sloane and I have gone through our own journeys of deconstruction and reconstruction. She’s seen firsthand how the church can mishandle encountering survivors and how delicate and complex these situations can be.

The Reality of “Sugar Dating”

Some nights felt harmless—like having dinner with a businessman who just wanted company and conversation. But most nights? They were anything but that. The truth is, the fantasy of sugar dating—mutually beneficial, long-term arrangements with financial stability—was just that: a fantasy. Most men weren’t offering monthly allowances or ongoing support. They wanted pay-per-meet agreements—no strings attached, no safety net, just transactional sex. And when survival depended on it, I found myself scrambling to secure the next “daddy.”

I struggled to assert myself, especially in two key areas: insisting on protection and ensuring I was paid upfront. That put me at immense risk—both for my health and my safety. One night, I was forced into acts I didn’t consent to, verbally assaulted, and then left empty-handed. Sitting in my car afterward, I realized something chilling: there was no one to report it to. No way to warn the next girl. No system to hold these men accountable.

Some men had hidden home cameras, recording our time together without my consent. Others were forceful, rough, and used sex toys in ways that crossed every boundary I had. And yet, as awful as those experiences were, I knew I was lucky—because it could have been so much worse.

Most of these men pushed to move conversations off the platform as quickly as possible, demanding explicit photos before agreeing to meet. When you’re in a financial bind, it’s hard to say no. That’s how exploitation thrives—through desperation.


The Trap of a “Luxe” Illusion

Looking back, I wonder—why didn’t I just walk away? Why couldn’t I see, from the beginning, that this wasn’t sustainable? I wasn’t like most women in the industry. I was white, college-educated, and didn’t even have student debt shackling me. My financial stress came from my own reckless spending—maxed-out credit cards and the relentless costs of bodybuilding, a sport I was pouring everything into. So why, with all the options I had, did I keep chasing this?

I think part of it was desperation. The MLM-like promise of sugar dating had me convinced that if I just worked harder, played the game right, and landed the right arrangement, I could have financial security and independence. I put more energy into curating the perfect sugar persona than I ever did into building my personal training business. And maybe, just maybe, I was chasing the mirage of someone close to me—someone who had made sugar dating “work.” I saw her succeed, and I kept believing I could, too.

But there’s another layer. One I don’t love admitting (and one my mom will absolutely deny.) My mother praised me for it. She told me, “I wish I had done this when I was your age.” That kind of validation messes with your perception of right and wrong. It made it seem like I was onto something genius, like I had cracked code other women were too scared or too moralistic to try. Was I subconsciously trying to prove something? Was I filling the void left by emotional neglect?

Or was it just my own damn fault?

That’s the thing about these choices—they never come down to just one reason. It is always more complex. It wasn’t just the financial stress. It wasn’t just my upbringing. It wasn’t just the influence of someone I admired. It was all of it, tangled together, keeping me locked in place. And it took me years to realize that no amount of effort or strategy would turn sugar dating into the safety net I desperately wanted it to be.


The Lie of “Sex Work is Work”

For a long time, I believed the mantra: “sex work is work.” It’s the rallying cry of the sex-positive movement, a phrase meant to legitimize the industry. Prostitution is often called “the oldest profession,” but historically, it has always been a last resort for survival. Women don’t enter this industry because it’s empowering. They do it because they have no better options.

The real harm in prostitution isn’t just about bad working conditions or societal stigma. It’s about dehumanization. When sex is reduced to a transaction, people become commodities. And when we treat people like products to be bought and sold, we strip them of their dignity.

Louise Perry, in The Case Against the Sexual Revolution, makes this point powerfully. She argues that the sex industry’s only real defense is a hollow, commodified version of “liberation”—one that insists, “Everyone consents, everyone is an adult, the women enjoy it, so who are you to judge?” But when consent is the only moral standard, we ignore the broader ethical issue: that people are being treated as means to an end. Consent alone does not erase coercion, exploitation, or harm.

In our postmodern culture, we’ve rejected objective morality and replaced it with a consumerist approach to sex. If both parties “agree,” then anything goes. But this is a dangerous slope—one that allows predatory men to exploit desperate women under the guise of empowerment.


Insights from Recent Research

New research exposes the blurred lines between sugar dating and traditional sex work. A study published in The Journal of Sex Research found that over one-third of sugar babies have engaged in other forms of transactional sex work, such as escorting or stripping. This challenges the narrative that sugar dating is different or “classier” than prostitution. The reality? It operates on the same fundamental exchange.

The study also found that sugar benefactors reported an average of over six arrangements, indicating a revolving door of sugar relationships. For these men, sugar dating is just another avenue for purchasing companionship and sex.

Beyond the emotional toll, sugar dating carries serious legal and personal risks. Legal experts warn that these arrangements can lead to blackmail, coercion, and threats—especially when expectations aren’t met. Many women find themselves in vulnerable situations with no real recourse. The illusion of control is just that—an illusion.


The Flawed Narrative Around Sex Work and Deconstructing Purity Culture

In the deconstruction space, there’s a growing trend of equating sexual liberation with empowerment while rejecting any critique of the sex industry as moral panic. A popular post circulating on International Sex Workers Day exemplifies this mindset, arguing that deconstructing purity culture requires deconstructing any negative views of sex work. The claim? Sex work and sex trafficking are entirely separate, and many big Christian anti-trafficking organizations wrongly conflate the two to push an agenda. The post insists that if a person is not forced, defrauded, or coerced, they are simply making a free choice to engage in sex work. But this argument is deeply flawed when examined through historical context, real-world data, and the experiences of women who have lived through it.

The Demand Problem: Why Legalizing Sex Work Doesn’t Protect Women

One of the most critical oversights in this argument is the failure to acknowledge that sex work is a demand-driven industry. As Louise Perry outlines in The Case Against the Sexual Revolution, countries that have legalized prostitution have seen an increase in trafficking. Why? Because legalizing the industry normalizes the demand for paid sex, and when there aren’t enough willing participants, traffickers step in to fill the gap. Studies show that in places like Germany and the Netherlands, where prostitution is legal, trafficking rates have skyrocketed because the market rewards pimps and exploiters. The idea that sex work can be fully separate from trafficking ignores the economic reality that supply follows demand.

Linda Lovelace’s experience in Deep Throat is a perfect example of this. The film was a massive success, grossing over $600 million, and was hailed as revolutionary at the time. But years later, Lovelace revealed that she had been coerced into performing in the film under violent and abusive conditions. Her book Ordeal exposed the hidden abuse within the industry—an industry that thrives precisely because there is a market for extreme, degrading content. This isn’t an isolated case; countless women have echoed similar stories after leaving the industry, only to be dismissed while they were still in it because they were expected to uphold the “liberation” narrative.

The Exploitation Behind the Industry

Another major flaw in the sex-work-as-liberation argument is the lack of accountability within the industry itself. MindGeek, the corporation behind the world’s largest pornography sites, has faced multiple civil lawsuits for monetizing non-consensual content—including child sexual abuse, rape, revenge pornography, and voyeuristic recordings of women showering. Reports from December 2020 revealed that the platform was infested with videos depicting abuse and that it profited from some of the darkest corners of human sexuality.

The industry thrives on the illusion that all participants are willing, yet it repeatedly fails to ensure consent. The reality is that the vast majority of those in sex work come from backgrounds of financial instability, trauma, or coercion—not from an empowered, freely chosen career path. The notion that sex work is “just another job” ignores how uniquely dangerous, exploitative, and often inescapable it can be.

The Broader Issue: Normalizing Harm Under the Guise of Liberation

This same pattern of dismissing harm under the banner of liberation isn’t exclusive to the sex industry. I recently came across another example in the deconstruction space where an account that advocates for women’s sexual empowerment was documenting her abortion experience on National Abortion Day. She filmed herself taking the abortion pill as if it were nothing—a casual, almost celebratory act. But this kind of messaging erases the medical realities and risks associated with the abortion pill. It ignores the fact that women absolutely should get an ultrasound before taking it to determine gestational age and rule out ectopic pregnancy, which can be fatal if left untreated. Reducing such a serious medical decision to a political performance trivializes the real consequences that many women face.

This connects back to the issue with sex work: the rush to de-stigmatize everything labeled as “empowerment” often leads to a dangerous lack of critical thought. If deconstruction is about questioning harmful narratives, then why aren’t we allowed to question the harm within the sex industry? Why does rejecting purity culture mean embracing an industry that, time and time again, has been built on coercion, abuse, and exploitation?

Deconstructing purity culture shouldn’t mean abandoning discernment. If anything, it should mean taking an even closer look at these industries and asking hard questions about who truly benefits from them. Because when we actually listen to the stories of women who have left sex work, the pattern is clear: what is sold as empowerment often turns out to be exploitation in disguise.

Healing & Advocacy

Looking back, my perspective has completely shifted. The journey out of the sex industry has been long and complicated, but I’m grateful for the clarity I have now. Organizations like Exodus Cry work to expose the realities of the commercial sex trade and fight for real change. And voices like Louise Perry’s are crucial in dismantling the harmful myths that keep this industry alive.

The sexual revolution promised liberation, but for many women, it delivered exploitation instead. The more we normalize the commodification of sex, the more we enable the very systems that harm us. It’s time to rethink everything we’ve been told about “sex work” and start asking: Who really benefits from this industry? Because it’s certainly not the women inside it.

If you’ve ever questioned the narrative around sex work, if you’ve been curious about the reality behind sugar dating, or if you want to hear from someone who’s been there—I invite you to tune in.

It’s time to move beyond the glamour and face the truth.

Resources:

The Wounds We Don’t See: Betrayal, Recovery and Rebuilding Trust

Healing After Religious Abuse: A Conversation with Connie A. Baker

Religious abuse can leave deep scars—ones that don’t just fade with time but require intentional healing. In this week’s conversation, I sat down with Connie A. Baker, author of Traumatized by Religious Abuse, for an honest and heartfelt discussion about the journey of healing from spiritual trauma. Connie shares her own experiences, the painful realities of the “second wound,” and how survivors can reclaim their emotional autonomy after years of manipulation and control.

Why Healing Can’t Be Rushed

One of the most profound takeaways from our conversation was the reminder that healing isn’t something to bulldoze through. Connie calls herself a “recovering bulldozer,” always pushing to move forward as quickly as possible. But in trauma recovery, speed can be counterproductive. She embraces the mantra, slow is steady, and steady is fast. For survivors, learning to slow down and allow healing to unfold naturally is essential. Trying to rush past the pain often leads to setbacks, while true recovery requires patience, self-compassion, and time.

The Second Wound: Betrayal After Speaking Out

Connie describes how only 25% of the damage she endured came from the abuse itself—the remaining 75% came from the judgment, rejection, and betrayal she faced when she spoke out. This “second wound” is a devastating reality for many survivors who expect support but instead encounter disbelief, gaslighting, or outright hostility.

I resonated deeply with this. When I began speaking about my own experiences within the church, I was met with accusations of backsliding, manipulation, and spiritual rebellion. Survivors already carry the weight of their trauma, and the added burden of social ostracization can feel insurmountable.

So how do we heal from this betrayal? Connie shares practical steps, including:

  • Finding safe, validating spaces where your story is heard and honored.
  • Understanding that others’ disbelief or discomfort does not negate your truth.
  • Developing strong boundaries to protect yourself from further harm.

Naming Abuse and Embracing Spectrum Thinking

One of the most insidious aspects of religious abuse is the difficulty of naming it. Many survivors downplay their experiences, believing that if they weren’t physically harmed, it “wasn’t that bad.” But Connie emphasizes that minimizing abuse hinders healing.

Abuse exists on a spectrum—from coercive control and emotional manipulation to outright physical harm. Recognizing where an experience falls on that spectrum is crucial for understanding the impact and taking steps toward recovery. This applies beyond religion too—cults, MLMs, and even rigid ideological movements can exhibit the same coercive tactics found in high-control religious environments.

Developing spectrum thinking—moving away from rigid “all or nothing” perspectives—allows survivors to see the full picture. Instead of thinking, “I was never physically hurt, so it wasn’t abuse,” they can acknowledge, “This environment manipulated me, eroded my self-trust, and controlled my emotions. That was harmful.”

Reclaiming Emotional Autonomy

Spiritual abuse often hinges on emotional suppression. Survivors are told that negative emotions—anger, sadness, fear—are sinful or a sign of weak faith. Verses like “Rejoice in the Lord always” and “Be anxious for nothing” are weaponized to shame people into emotional denial.

But emotions provide vital information. Anger tells us when our boundaries have been crossed. Sadness signals loss and the need for healing. Anxiety can be a survival mechanism. Connie reminds us that full wisdom comes from embracing the entire spectrum of human emotions.

Learning to trust yourself again after years of emotional control is no small feat. Some practical steps include:

  • Allowing yourself to feel emotions without labeling them as good or bad.
  • Recognizing when religious conditioning is silencing your true feelings.
  • Using anger constructively—to set boundaries rather than self-destruct.

Wrestling with Worldview: From Spiritual to Materialist and Back Again

Many survivors of religious abuse go through a radical shift in their worldview. Some reject spirituality entirely, embracing a materialist perspective where only the tangible world is real. Others swing to the opposite extreme, seeking comfort in rigid new belief systems.

Connie highlights that this spectrum—from deeply spiritual to strictly materialist—is something many survivors navigate as they attempt to make sense of their experiences. Some turn to hedonism—“Eat, drink, and be merry”—while others find meaning in service, activism, or intellectual pursuits. What matters most isn’t where someone lands on the spectrum but rather the process of wrestling with meaning, truth, and autonomy after religious trauma.

Final Thoughts

Healing from religious abuse is not linear. It’s messy, painful, and often isolating. But as Connie’s journey shows, it’s possible. By embracing the full range of emotions, setting firm boundaries, and recognizing abuse for what it is, survivors can reclaim their autonomy and rebuild a life of freedom and self-trust.

If you’re in the midst of this journey, know that you are not alone. Whether you’re deconstructing, reconstructing, or simply trying to make sense of it all, your experiences are valid. And healing—real, lasting healing—is possible.

What part of this conversation resonated most with you? Drop a comment and let’s keep the discussion going.

And as always: Maintain your curiosity, embrace skepticism, and keep tuning in! 🎙️🔒

Resources:

Reclaiming Critical Thinking in an Age of Narrative Warfare

How Media Manipulation and Pseudo-Intellectualism Are Undermining Independent Thought

In today’s episode of Taste of Truth Tuesdays, I sit down with Franklin O’Kanu, also known as The Alchemik Pharmacist, to unpack one of the most pressing issues of our time: the erosion of critical thinking. Franklin, founder of Unorthodoxy, brings a unique perspective that bridges science, spirituality, and philosophy. Together, we explore how media narratives, pseudo-intellectualism, and societal conditioning have trained people to ignore their inner “Divine BS meter” and simply accept what they’re told.

The Death of Critical Thinking

As Franklin points out, we’ve lost the ability to thoughtfully absorb and analyze information. The past few years have conditioned individuals to disregard anything that doesn’t align with mainstream sources, experts, or consensus. Instead of engaging with information critically, many have been taught to dismiss it outright. The result? A culture that values conformity over curiosity and blind acceptance over intellectual rigor.

We discuss how this shift has been accelerated by media bombardment, especially during the pandemic. The New York Times even published an article on critical thinking, but instead of encouraging intellectual engagement, it suggested that questioning mainstream narratives is dangerous. This is narrative warfare at its finest—manipulating public perception to ensure that only “approved” ideas are given legitimacy.

The Power of Narratives: How Ideological Echo Chambers Shape Reality

Franklin O’Kanu often cites James Corbett’s work on media’s role in shaping public perception as a major inspiration behind his Substack. Corbett’s central thesis is simple: narratives build realities—and whoever controls the dominant narrative controls public thought. Nowhere is this clearer than in the nihilistic messaging that dominates left-leaning social media platforms like Meta. The idea that humans are an irredeemable blight on the planet has been mainstreamed, despite evidence to the contrary.

This same unquestioning adherence to an ideological narrative played out during the pandemic with phrases like “Trust the science” and “Don’t do your own research.” I explored this trend in my Substack, particularly through the lens of so-called ‘cult expert’ Steven Hassan. Hassan built his career exposing ideological manipulation, branding himself as the foremost authority on cult mind control. But here’s the irony: while he calls out high-control religious groups, he seems completely blind to the cult-like tactics within his own political ideology.

Information Control: Censoring ‘Dangerous’ Ideas

Hassan’s BITE model—which stands for Behavior, Information, Thought, and Emotional control—is designed to help people recognize manipulation.

In cults, leaders dictate what information followers can access. The extreme left does the same.

  • Censorship of Opposing Views – Deplatforming, banning books, firing professors—if an idea threatens the ideology, it’s labeled “harmful” and shut down.
  • Historical Revisionism – Complex events are reframed to fit simplistic oppression narratives, ignoring inconvenient facts.
  • Selective Science – Only research that supports the ideology gets funding and visibility. Studies on biological sex differences, IQ variations, or alternative climate models? Silenced or retracted—not because they’re disproven, but because they’re inconvenient.
  • Discouraging Exposure to Counterarguments – Followers are taught that listening to the other side is “platforming hate” or “giving oxygen to fascism.”

This is exactly what happened when Franklin challenged the mainstream climate change narrative. The moment he questioned NetZero policies, he wasn’t just hit with the usual accusations: “climate denier,” “science denier,” and the ever-expanding list of ideological insults meant to discredit rather than debate, but he was blocked. This is how bad ideas survive—by shutting down the people who challenge them.

Franklin warns that if you’re not careful, these narratives can take you down a dark rabbit hole built on lies. Once an ideological framework is built around selective truth, it becomes a self-reinforcing system—one that punishes dissent and rewards conformity. And once you let someone else dictate what information is “safe” for you to consume, you’re already in the first stages of ideological capture.

The Rise of the Fake Intellectual

Platforms like Facebook/Instagram/YouTube have perfected the illusion of intellectual discourse while actively suppressing opposing voices. This has led to what Franklin calls the fake intellectual—individuals or organizations that present themselves as champions of knowledge but ultimately serve to shut down real dialogue.

Fake intellectuals don’t invite discussion; they police it. They rely on appeals to authority, groupthink, and censorship to maintain an illusion of correctness. True intellectualism, on the other hand, is rooted in curiosity, openness, and the willingness to engage with challenging perspectives.

Reclaiming Intellectual Integrity

One of the most powerful insights from our discussion is the role belief plays in shaping our world. Franklin warns that when we accept narratives without scrutiny, we risk being deceived. This applies across industries—medicine, science, finance, and even religion. These systems function because people believe in them, often without verifying their claims. But if we fail to question these narratives, we become passive participants in a game where only a select few control the rules.

So, how do we resist narrative warfare and reclaim critical thinking? Franklin suggests:

  • Cultivating intellectual humility—being open to the possibility that we might be wrong.
  • Recognizing media manipulation—understanding how information is curated to shape public perception.
  • Engaging with diverse perspectives—actively seeking out voices that challenge our beliefs.
  • Trusting our own discernment—developing the confidence to think independently instead of outsourcing our opinions to authority figures.

Franklin expands on this in his writings, particularly in his two articles, How to See the World and How to Train Your Mind. As he puts it, “We all have these voices in our heads. Philosophy is really just understanding the reality of the world, and there’s a principle in philosophy—keep things as simple as possible.” He breaks it down like this:

  • You are a soul. That’s the foundation. If every child grew up knowing this, it would change the way we see ourselves.
  • You have a body. Your body exists to experience the physical reality of the world.
  • You have a mind. Your mind is an information processor that collects input from your senses. But it also generates thoughts—sometimes helpful, sometimes misleading.

Franklin uses a simple example: Is my craving for ice cream coming from my body, my mind, or my soul? That question highlights the need to discern where our impulses originate. He extends this concept to online interactions: How many thoughts do we have just from seeing something online? How many narratives do we construct before our soul even has a chance to process reality?

Online spaces, Franklin argues, give rise to what he calls the “inner troll.”🧌 He connects this to the spiritual concept of demons—forces that seek to provoke, enrage, and divide. “Think about the term ‘troll,’” he says. “What is that, really? It’s an inner demon that gets let loose online. The internet makes it easy for our worst instincts to take over.”

So, what’s the antidote? Franklin emphasizes the importance of the pause. Before reacting to something online, before getting swept into outrage, take a step back. Ask: What is happening here? What am I feeling? Is this a real threat, or is my mind generating a reaction?

“It’s extremely hard to do online,” Franklin admits. “But when we practice stepping back, we can respond more humanely—more divinely. That’s the key to reclaiming critical thinking in a world that thrives on emotional manipulation.”

The digital age bombards us with narratives designed to capture our attention, manipulate our emotions, and direct our beliefs. But we are not powerless.

On an episode last season, we discussed a concept I learned from Dr. Greg Karris—something he calls narcissistic rage in fundamentalist ideologies. It helped me understand why people react so viscerally when their beliefs are challenged. My friend Jay described a similar idea as emotional hijacks, tying it to the amygdala’s response. This concept also appears in Emotional Intelligence 2.0 by Daniel Goleman and is expanded upon in Pete Walker’s Complex PTSD.

When the amygdala gets triggered—exactly what Franklin was describing—we have to learn to recognize the physical sensations that come with it. Elevated heart rate. Sweaty palms. That’s your body sounding the alarm. But in that moment, your prefrontal cortex—the part responsible for logic and rational thinking—is offline. Your biology is overriding your soul’s intention. And that’s why taking a step back is so crucial.

The best way to get your higher reasoning back online? Create space. Pause. Let the emotional surge settle before you engage. As simple as it sounds, it’s one of the hardest things to do. But in a world where reactionary thinking is the default, practicing this skill is an act of rebellion—and a path to reclaiming our intellectual and emotional sovereignty.


Next, Franklin and I dive into a pressing issue: The Coddling of the Mind in society—a theme I’ve explored numerous times on the podcast and in my blogs. Franklin brings up a fascinating point, saying, “One thing that’s happened with COVID, though it started before, is the softening of humanity. We’ve become so soft that you can’t say anything anymore. And what that’s done is pushed away true intellectual rigor. We used to be able to sit and share ideas, but now we’re obsessed with safe spaces. And this started on college campuses.”

Franklin’s observation taps into a broader cultural shift that has eroded the foundations of intellectual engagement. In the past, people could engage in discussions where the goal wasn’t necessarily to convince others, but to explore ideas, challenge assumptions, and learn. The push for safe spaces—often an attempt to shield individuals from discomfort or offense—has inadvertently led to the silencing of open debate. In this environment, people have become more focused on avoiding offense than on confronting difficult ideas or engaging in intellectual rigor. This dynamic, Franklin argues, has stripped away the very essence of what it means to debate, discuss, and learn.

This idea echoes themes explored in Gad Saad’s The Parasitic Mind, where Saad delves into how certain ideologies undermine intellectual diversity and critical thinking. Franklin builds on this, urging that true intellectual growth comes from understanding where someone is coming from, even if their views differ from your own. “Learn what happened to individuals to understand how they arrived at their conclusions,” he says. “Remove personal bias and avoid attacks. Only then can you critique the point effectively, offering counterpoints that strengthen both arguments and allow experiences from both sides to shine.” This approach, Franklin explains, fosters a more nuanced understanding of each other’s perspectives, allowing both sides to learn and grow rather than simply entrenched in opposing views.

This fragility encourages echo chambers and groupthink, where dissent is silenced, and alternative perspectives are rejected outright. Ironically, in the pursuit of empathy, freedom, and inclusivity, movements like deconstruction can end up mirroring the same intellectual and moral rigidity they sought to escape.

I could continue typing out the entire conversation, or you could just listen. 🙂

In an age where the appearance of truth is often prioritized over truth itself, our ability to think critically is more important than ever. This episode is an invitation to break free from intellectual complacency and reclaim the power of questioning.


Article mentioned in the interview:

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:

  1. Fear of Deviation – Straying from the accepted belief system is framed as dangerous, whether it’s framed as spiritual damnation or societal collapse.
  2. Cognitive Dissonance – Encountering opposing viewpoints creates internal discomfort, making people double down rather than reconsider.
  3. 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.
  4. Identity Threat – When beliefs define self-worth, changing one’s mind feels like losing a part of oneself.
  5. 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.

Women, Terror, and Freedom: How the West Enables Radical Ideologies

Breaking Free: A Conversation with Yasmine Mohammed on Radical Islam, Empowerment, and the West’s Blind Spots

In a world where ideology often blinds us to reality, Yasmine Mohammed’s story is a testament to the power of courage and critical thinking. As a survivor of a forced marriage to an Al-Qaeda operative and author of the groundbreaking book Unveiled: How Western Liberals Empower Radical Islam, Yasmine has dedicated her life to advocating for women’s rights and challenging oppressive ideologies. In this blog, we’ll explore her journey, the insights she’s gained, and the challenges of addressing extremism in today’s political and cultural climate.


Why Yasmine Wrote Unveiled

When asked what motivated her to write Unveiled, Yasmine shared that it was born out of a deep desire to shed light on her personal journey and the broader systemic issues that keep women trapped in cycles of oppression. “I wanted to expose the realities of radical Islam and its impact on women, but also to empower others to think critically and challenge these systems,” she explained. For Yasmine, the book is not just a memoir; it’s a call to action, a tool for education, and a beacon of hope for those seeking to break free.

Since its publication five years ago, much has changed. Yasmine reflected on her personal growth and evolving perspectives. “The fight for women’s rights continues, but I’ve also learned to navigate the complexities of cultural relativism and political correctness in the West,” she said. These challenges have only deepened her resolve to speak out.


The Psychological Toll of Leaving Islam

In Unveiled, Yasmine recounts the harrowing experience of escaping her marriage and the lingering fear of her ex-husband, even imagining him in “heaven” (p. 186). These fears aren’t just remnants of her past but a reflection of the psychological toll of leaving Islam. “It’s not just about leaving a religion; it’s about disentangling yourself from a worldview that dictated every aspect of your life,” she said.

Her advice for those leaving strict religious environments? “Be patient with yourself. Fear-based tactics are designed to keep you compliant, but over time, as you rebuild your confidence, those fears begin to fade.” Yasmine emphasized the importance of finding supportive communities and nurturing critical thinking skills to counteract deeply ingrained beliefs.


Challenging Radical Islam and Western Enablers

One of the most provocative aspects of Yasmine’s work is her critique of Western liberals who inadvertently enable radical Islam. “By prioritizing cultural relativism over universal human rights, they’re complicit in perpetuating oppression,” she argued. For women in particular, this dynamic is devastating. “When Western feminists turn a blind eye to practices like forced marriages or honor killings, they’re betraying the very values they claim to uphold.”

What’s the solution? “We need to have honest conversations about the realities of radical Islam without fear of being labeled intolerant. It’s not about vilifying a group; it’s about protecting fundamental human rights,” Yasmine said. She also highlighted the importance of education, both in Muslim-majority countries and in the West, to dismantle misconceptions and foster real change.


Final Thoughts

Looking back on her journey, Yasmine’s advice to those deconstructing a belief system is simple but profound: “You are not alone. There is life beyond fear and isolation, and there are communities and resources ready to support you.” For those seeking to educate themselves on these issues, she cautioned against falling into the trap of political tribalism. “Stay curious, ask questions, and prioritize truth over ideology.”

Yasmine Mohammed’s story is more than a tale of survival; it’s a roadmap for empowerment and a challenge to the complacency that allows radical ideologies to thrive. As we navigate a world increasingly polarized by political and cultural divisions, her insights remind us of the urgency of standing up for universal human rights and fostering critical, open-minded discussions.


Further Reading and Resources

🙏 Please help this podcast reach a larger audience in hope to edify & encourage others! To do so: leave a 5⭐️ review and send it to a friend! Thank you for listening! I’d love to hear from you, find me on Instagram!⁠⁠⁠ @taste0ftruth⁠⁠⁠ , @megan_mefit , ⁠⁠⁠ Pinterest! ⁠⁠ ⁠ Substack and on X! 

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.

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! 

Escaping Dogma or Trading It? The Risks of Deconstruction Culture

For many, the term “deconstruction” has come to represent a deeply personal process of questioning inherited beliefs, especially in the context of religion. While there’s no official “deconstruction community,” it has become a popular buzzword online, flourishing in spaces like Instagram, TikTok, and podcasts. (The New Evangelicals, Dr. Pete Enns (The Bible for Normal People), Eve was framed, Jesus Unfollower, Dr. Laura Anderson just to name a few.) These platforms provide room to question everything and dismantle rigid systems of belief—at least in theory.

But what happens when these communities become echo chambers of their own? Instead of fostering true intellectual freedom, the deconstruction movement often serves as a pipeline into new forms of dogma. Rather than encouraging critical thinking, it frequently replicates the same tribalism and groupthink that so many participants are trying to escape.

This is not growth. It’s trading one set of chains for another.


From Evangelicalism to Progressive Extremism

It’s ironic: people leave far-right evangelical Christianity believing they’ve found freedom, only to stumble into another extreme—progressive leftist ideologies. Why does this happen?

To understand this, we need to step back and look at human nature. Political scientists have found that public opinion is shaped far more by group identity than by self-interest. As Jonathan Haidt explains in The Righteous Mind, politics is deeply tribal. We’re hardwired to align with groups, not necessarily because they offer truth, but because they provide belonging.

This tribal impulse is magnified in the context of deconstruction. Many who leave evangelical Christianity are grappling with disillusionment, loss, and a hunger for community. For some, the progressive left offers a sense of safety and a clear moral framework, mirroring what they once found in their faith. The partisan brain, already trained to see the world in “us versus them” terms, naturally clings to another tribe rather than embracing the discomfort of uncertainty.

Research even suggests that extreme partisanship may be addictive. Our brains are rewarded for performing the mental gymnastics that protect us from beliefs we don’t want to confront. This dynamic—coupled with the fear of being ostracized by a new community—creates an environment where dissenting voices are silenced, and ideological purity becomes the new gospel.

Woke Ideology as a Secular Faith: A Closer Look

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. For McWhorter, this structure offers a sense of moral clarity and purpose, but the movement’s refusal to tolerate dissent makes it dangerous. He suggests, “What we’re seeing isn’t a quest for justice but a demand for unquestioning orthodoxy.”

Keep your eyes 👀out for that blog post, for it will be coming soon, and it will be called “Oh Woke night, The Sacred Beliefs of the Left”


Fragility and the “Three Great Untruths”

The allure of the deconstruction space isn’t just about leaving religion; it’s about embracing a new narrative. But narratives, like dogmas, can distort reality when they’re based on false premises. Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt explore this in their book The Coddling of the American Mind, identifying three “Great Untruths” that have come to dominate cultural discourse:

  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 encourage fragility, discourage critical thinking, and foster an “us versus them” mentality. They create a world where discomfort is seen as harmful, emotions override evidence, and disagreement is equated with moral failure.

Sound familiar? For anyone who grew up in evangelical circles, these patterns mirror the same rigidity and moral absolutism they left behind. And yet, these same traits are now pervasive in parts of the deconstruction space. This creates an ironic cycle: people flee one form of oppression, only to adopt another, packaged in new language but rooted in the same fear-based thinking.

For a deeper dive into the 3 Untruths check out this post/podcast: How the Quest for Truth Became a New form of Dogma


Reason Isn’t the Savior We Think It Is

One of the most seductive ideas in the deconstruction movement is the belief in reason as the ultimate guide to truth. On the surface, this sounds like an antidote to dogma. But here’s the catch: reason isn’t the unbiased tool we like to imagine.

French cognitive scientists Hugo Mercier and Dan Sperber argue that reasoning didn’t evolve to help us discover truth. Instead, it evolved for argumentation—to persuade others and protect our own beliefs. This explains why confirmation bias isn’t just a quirk of human psychology; it’s a feature of our argumentative minds.

As individuals, we’re not wired to produce open-minded, truth-seeking reasoning—especially when our identity or reputation is on the line. This is why intellectual and ideological diversity is so important in any truth-seeking community. Without it, reasoning becomes a tool for reinforcing tribal loyalty, not uncovering deeper truths.

The philosopher John Stuart Mill captured this in On Liberty, arguing that free speech and open debate are essential for discovering truth. Mill believed that truth isn’t static or simple; it emerges when differing perspectives clash, forcing ideas to be tested, refined, and strengthened. Worshiping reason as an infallible guide is, in itself, a kind of faith—one as flawed and potentially dangerous as religious dogmatism.


The Rise of the Fake Intellectual

2020 and the pandemic didn’t just disrupt our lives; it disrupted how we think about authority and expertise. Franklin O’Kanu, in his Substack UNORTHODOXY, describes the emergence of a new archetype: the “fake intellectual.”

These individuals position themselves as ultimate authorities, wielding data and studies to validate their perspectives. But often, their arguments lack intellectual rigor. They cherry-pick evidence, appeal to emotion, and create the illusion of expertise without true depth.

In the realm of public health and pharmaceuticals, there’s a well-documented phenomenon known as the “revolving door” between regulatory agencies and the pharmaceutical industry. This term refers to the cyclical movement of personnel between roles as regulators or policymakers and positions within the industries they oversee.

What Is the Revolving Door?

The revolving door concept highlights a pattern where high-ranking officials from organizations such as the CDC (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention) and the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) transition into influential roles within pharmaceutical companies, and vice versa. This fluid movement raises critical questions about the integrity and impartiality of regulatory oversight.

The deconstruction space is fertile ground for this phenomenon. Disillusioned individuals, hungry for guidance, are particularly vulnerable to voices that seem authoritative. But the rise of fake intellectuals doesn’t just mislead; it stifles genuine curiosity and critical thinking, replacing one form of blind faith with another.


A Call for Intellectual Diversity

If the goal of deconstruction is freedom, then it must embrace intellectual diversity. True growth happens when we allow our ideas to be challenged—when we resist the urge to label dissenters as enemies and instead engage with them in good faith.

This is why Mill’s defense of free speech is more important than ever. Truth isn’t found in the safety of ideological purity; it’s forged in the discomfort of debate. Communities that discourage dissent are not liberating—they’re suffocating.


Conclusion: Toward True Freedom

Deconstruction should be a crossroads, not a pipeline. It’s an opportunity to question everything—including the ideologies we’re tempted to adopt in place of the ones we’ve left behind.

To truly grow, we must embrace complexity, engage with opposing perspectives, and remain humble in the face of our own limitations. The path to freedom isn’t about finding the “right” tribe—it’s about stepping beyond tribes altogether and seeking truth with courage, curiosity, and an open mind.

Beyond the Echo Chamber: How the Quest for Truth Became a New form of Dogma

Bonus Episode: Reflections on the Election Cycle – A Message for the Deconstruction Community

Welcome to today’s deep dive into a topic that’s been stirring within me for months. If you’re new here, let me explain the deconstruction space, or the deconstruction community—a movement that’s gaining momentum for those of us disentangling ourselves from rigid, fundamentalist beliefs. This process is supposed to be healing and, ideally, a source of growth, but it’s not without its share of controversy. That’s what we’re here to talk about.

In my podcast episode titled Faith Unbound: Navigating the Process of Disentanglement—or rather, Deconversion after my own journey took a deeper turn—I discussed my initial discovery of this space back in February. At that point, I’d begun to question my former beliefs, and the deconstruction community felt like a safe haven. After 6-7 months in, I’m seeing patterns that are unsettlingly familiar. The community has been valuable, yet I’ve grown concerned as it increasingly mirrors the same kinds of rigidity and tribalism many of us were trying to escape.

My posts and Instagram reels have hinted at this frustration, but I’m here today to pull these thoughts together more fully. Moving away from one dogma only to embrace another feels to me, like a new form of entrapment. The craving for certainty and “the right side” is strong, and without realizing it, we’re swapping one rigid system for another. In this space that’s supposed to champion open-mindedness, judgment and exclusion seem to have replaced curiosity and true critical thought.

It’s a reminder that true growth and change happen only when we’re open to different perspectives—not quick to label those who disagree with us as enemies. As the philosopher John Stuart Mill argued in his 1859 work, On Liberty, Free speech is essential for discovering the truth. He believed true understanding and truth itself emerge only through open debate and free expression. This highlights the complexity of truth, it’s only when differing perspectives clash that ideas are refined and strengthened. Let’s explore how that idea relates to today’s topic.

Setting the Stage: The Political and Psychological Landscape

Before we dig into the deconstruction community, let’s set the stage with something I found really interesting. Back before the 2024 election, journalist Mark Halperin expressed some serious concerns on Tucker Carlson’s podcast (cue the BOOs and HISSS from all the progressives–I hear you!) about what would happen if Trump were to win a second term. He predicted widespread psychological distress, especially among Democrats, which would affect everything from mental health to social interactions. And, wow, did that hit the mark.

Since Trump’s victory, movements like the 4B movement have surged among women on social media, particularly in response to reproductive rights concerns and conservative gender roles. Originating in South Korea, the movement’s name, “4B,” stems from “B,” shorthand for “no” in Korean, symbolizing “No sex, No dating, No marrying men, and No children.” Recently, the movement has sparked a 450% increase in Google searches in the U.S., with many calling it the “4 Nos” or referencing “Lysistrata” for its radical stance against traditional gender expectations. I’ve shared my thoughts on traditional gender expectations in a previous episode.

The Blue Bracelet Movement: Solidarity or Performative Gesture?

Following the 2024 election, white women supporting Kamala Harris have rallied around an unexpected symbol: a blue bracelet. For many, it represents allegiance, a small but visible way to signal “I’m not with them” to women who voted for Trump. But like other quick-fix political symbols, it’s raising questions: Does this bracelet truly contribute to progress, or is it merely performative—a way to sidestep deeper, tougher conversations within their communities?

The trend echoes past symbolic movements like 2017’s “pussy hats,” which aimed to unify and empower but were later criticized for their lack of sustained action. Today, similar critiques have emerged around the bracelet, with critics suggesting it’s more of a comforting gesture for its wearers than a true commitment to change. Some Black activists and allies have pointed out that symbols alone aren’t enough; they want allies willing to challenge and change the beliefs of those around them, including friends and family who may hold differing views.

Could the Blue Bracelet Movement become a lasting emblem of allyship or fade as a passing trend? Its fate rests on whether those wearing it step up to engage in hard conversations and meaningful action.

Misinformation and Its Impact on Abortion Laws

But let’s get back to deconstruction—and something that’s been coming up a lot lately, particularly within that space: misinformation about abortion laws. Here’s the thing: there is no federal abortion ban in place. I repeat, NO federal abortion ban.

The Trump administration’s role in the overturning of Roe v. Wade has sparked fierce debates on both sides, but it’s important to clarify that the administration never stated it aimed to eliminate abortion nationwide. Instead, the ruling simply returned the power to regulate abortion to individual states. Some conservative figures have even used quotes from Ruth Bader Ginsburg to suggest she supported a more gradual, state-based approach. However, Ginsburg critiqued the federal approach, arguing a more state-focused shift could have garnered broader public support for gender equality. Polls consistently show that while many Americans support the legality of abortion, most also favor restrictions—especially in later stages of pregnancy. This nuance, however, often gets lost in campaign rhetoric, which is typically framed in absolute terms to galvanize voter turnout. But as we’ve seen, such messaging has not always yielded the intended results, revealing the complexity of public opinion on this issue.

Yes, the Roe v. Wade decision was overturned, but all that did was give states the power to regulate abortion. Some states have restrictions, sure, but no federal law is imposing a nationwide ban. And without a massive shift in Congress and the courts, it’s unlikely that will happen.

I don’t think it will. Trump himself has spoken out against that. His wife has spoken for protecting these in some way, shape or form. We have other folks coming over from the Democratic Party under this Unity Party bracket. I just don’t think that they’re going to force Christian nationalism, and abortion bans across the entire nation. I guess we’ll see.

Then, there’s this idea going around that women won’t be able to access life-saving procedures if they have a miscarriage. This is just false. In fact, most states with abortion restrictions still allow medical treatments for miscarriages, like dilation and curettage (D&C), which are essential to protect a woman’s health. What’s actually being restricted are elective abortions—not necessary procedures.

But here’s where things get really tricky. The spread of these exaggerated claims taps into the emotional centers of our brains. If you remember our previous episodes, we talked about amygdala hijacking—the brain’s response to fear and anxiety. When we hear these alarmist claims, it triggers that fear-based reaction, shutting down our ability to think rationally. Instead of focusing on the facts, we’re just reacting emotionally.

The Dangers of Misinformation

Let’s talk about the danger of this. Misinformation, especially when it involves highly emotional issues like reproductive rights, isn’t just harmless chatter—it’s psychological warfare. It keeps people in a constant state of anxiety, preventing them from thinking rationally. The real issue? People are more likely to believe in the fear-based narrative than to actually check the facts. They’re too busy being triggered emotionally.

This plays directly into the hands of the fearmongers. It becomes easier to control a population if you can make them afraid, right? And what do we see happening? Misguided campaigns around “miscarriage care,” the spread of exaggerated stories, and people feeling like their rights are under direct attack. It’s chaos. And it’s all based on misinformation, yet the ones who are screaming the loudest about misinformation are the very ones spreading it.

Can you already hear the echoes of evangelicalism? This brings me to the concepts of Jonathan Haidt’s the Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion because they apply here. Haidt explains how our moral intuitions drive our beliefs and politics, often dividing us along different moral foundations.

Many folks in the deconstruction space, now lean left, where values like care and fairness are paramount. Meanwhile, conservative values like loyalty and authority are often viewed as suspect, fostering an “us vs. them” mentality that can feel righteous but alienating. Ironically, in striving for freedom and empathy, the deconstruction space sometimes ends up falling into the same black-and-white thinking it critiques.

In tandem, Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt’s book The Coddling of the American Mind offers a useful framework for understanding these shifts, identifying “Three Great Untruths”: 1) “What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker,” 2) “Always trust your feelings,” and 3) “Life is a battle between good people and evil people.” These untruths, they argue, create fragility, discourage critical thinking, and foster a tribal mentality—traits that increasingly characterize the deconstruction space and parts of the progressive left.

It’s ironic to me that some people leave evangelical Christianity thinking they’re free, only to stumble into a new form of dogma within the deconstruction space. My experience is different—I didn’t grow up in the church but was recruited during the pandemic. Having lived outside of purity culture, I feel fortunate not to carry that baggage. While I empathize with those navigating their journeys, it’s tough to see them act as critics and bullies. Let’s unpack these dynamics by exploring three key untruths in this space.

1. The Untruth of Fragility: “What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker.”

For many, deconstructing from fundamentalist beliefs took resilience and a willingness to confront discomfort. Yet, in today’s deconstruction space, there’s an emphasis on avoiding ideas seen as “unsafe” or “harmful”—typically anything that deviates from progressive orthodoxy. and I mean, I genuinely felt this way. I think that might be somewhat of a trauma response. I was like, I hate the patriarchy. I must stand up against this. This is harmful. This is dangerous. And there is a lot of data proving that this isn’t true, whether we want to look at the history of the ancient church or just, you know, the research data that I’ve shared in previous episodes but my point–this fragility, reinforced by social media algorithms, cultivates an environment where disagreement feels threatening rather than enriching.

This approach mirrors the fundamentalist rejection of “dangerous” secular ideas, where dissent is demonized. The irony is that what began as a call for open-mindedness has become a kind of brittle certitude, one that isolates rather than connects. Instead of learning resilience, we’re re-teaching fragility, limiting our growth and deepening the ideological chasm.

Protestors outside a Temple of Satan

2. The Untruth of Emotional Reasoning: “Always trust your feelings.”

Fundamentalism often equates strong feelings with truth—“If I feel it, it must be right.” In the deconstruction space, there’s a similar emphasis on emotional reasoning. If something feels offensive or unsettling, it’s treated as harmful. This approach is amplified by social media, where outrage and personal offense are rewarded with visibility.

Haidt’s work reminds us that emotions shape our moral judgments but don’t always lead to truth. Reacting purely on feeling closes off critical thinking, creating echo chambers where alternative perspectives are rarely considered. Instead of fostering deeper understanding, emotional reasoning entrenches our biases, fueling judgment rather than curiosity.

3. The Untruth of Us vs. Them: “Life is a battle between good people and evil people.”

The most divisive untruth is the idea that the world can be split into “good” and “evil” camps. This is evident in how some in the deconstruction community approach politics and social issues, painting conservatives or moderates as morally inferior. We see a rigid, “with us or against us” mentality, where anyone who questions progressive narratives is labeled “deplorable,” “harmful,” “Trash”, “Nazi” or worse.

Haidt’s research reveals that moral division is natural; we all tend to view those who disagree with us as misguided or even morally flawed. But when we approach every difference as a moral battleground, we close off true dialogue. Coming from a high-Calvinist church—one of the most cult-like, fundamentalist circles you can get into—I know what it’s like to think the rapture is imminent or to believe that if you don’t say all the “right” words exactly, you’ll burn in hell. My journey has taken me from being pro-choice in Portland, OR, having had three abortions myself, to joining an abolitionist movement to outlaw abortion. I haven’t even spoken about the profound pain and regret I carry about this. Yet here I am, reflecting on how divisive our society has become, with so little room for understanding across political lines. In the deconstruction space, you’d expect a shared empathy after leaving behind rigid belief systems, but instead, the culture seems to mirror the very exclusivity and “us vs. them” mentality of evangelical spaces.

Living in Portland, surrounded by ideologies that often pushed the limits of what I felt was morally comfortable, I wrestled with the impacts of various movements. I started to question whether certain messages of empowerment—like third-wave feminism—truly uplift or, instead, encourage behaviors that commodify women’s bodies and promote sexualization from a very young age. And while sex work has become a celebrated concept under the mantra “sex work is real work,” my own painful experiences in that industry make me see things differently. To me, it’s not empowering; it’s the opposite. Instead of championing it, I believe we should work to dismantle the industry.

It’s not just isolated concepts; there’s a broader pattern of glorifying “anything goes” hedonism and dismissing traditional values in the progressive space, which I find deeply troubling. Living in that environment left me with a raw understanding of how damaging these ideologies can be, leaving permanent scars. I grieve over the three abortions I’ve had. I cry because, despite being told it was just “a clump of cells,” I knew it was more than that. Watching the left demand “trust the science” while denying that life begins at conception feels twisted to me.

Moreover, there’s a deep, dark history in the advocacy of reproductive rights that gets glossed over—like the disturbing eugenics past of Planned Parenthood’s Margaret Sanger. Are we just going to ignore that?


Since the last election ended with a Trump landslide victory, rather than sparking any self-reflection, this moral absolutism seems to have intensified. The comments sections on many deconstruction accounts reveal the same tribal thinking they claim to oppose. Instead of creating bridges, we see entrenched sides, instead of open-mindedness, we see judgment.

 Look, I’ve been there. I was a proud Democrat in the past. I voted for Obama. But now, as an independent, I’m calling it like I see it. Democrats need to take a good hard look at themselves if they want a chance at victory. Blaming the electorate isn’t the answer. You cannot keep denying biology and pretending men. Along in women’s sports, restrooms or prisons. The idea that kids should undergo irreversible changes. It’s misguided and is absolutely out of touch. The open border agenda. It’s hurting American workers, pushing down wages and driving up the cost of housing. When will you start protecting your own people instead of pandering to these extreme policies? Discriminating against whites, Asians and men and the name of countering past wrongs is not only setting us back, but it’s racist in itself. Abandoning merit-based selection is wrecking our economy and opportunities for everyone. I mean, you cannot let people camp, defecate and shoot up in public spaces and expect things to improve. The average voter is seeing all of this and they’re rejecting it. If Democrats want to win again, they need to rethink their approach and get back to reality. Enough is enough.

The Pipeline Problem: How Social Media Radicalizes

This divide is worsened by social media, where algorithms favor outrage and tribalism, pulling people toward extreme ideologies. Just as researchers have observed a “crunchy hippie to alt-right pipeline,” there’s a similar dynamic at play in progressive spaces, where folks in the deconstruction space are drawn into radical social justice ideologies that feel every bit as dogmatic as evangelicalism.

In this progressive pipeline, identity politics becomes a weapon, and moral purity is enforced through a power/victim binary that discourages complexity and invites fear of being labeled an oppressor. This kind of ideological purity resembles the control and certainty we experienced in evangelicalism, only now with a new political coat of paint.


And this leads me into the horseshoe theory suggests that the far-left and far-right, though seemingly at opposite ends of the spectrum, often mirror each other in attitudes and tactics. This theory, initially presented by French philosopher Jean-Pierre Faye, proposes that the extremes of any ideology may end up behaving similarly—both tending toward authoritarianism and totalitarian thought despite their stated differences. Although this theory has its critics, the broader concept of ideological mirroring holds up in our analysis of what’s happening in the deconstruction space. At first, it was all about freedom—breaking away from oppressive systems, rejecting dogma, and embracing openness. But ironically, as people deconstruct their faith, they can fall into a similar trap: from being free thinkers to members of a new ideological cult.

Basically, when you leave fundamentalism without fully deconstructing dogmatic thinking, you risk trading one rigid ideology for another. Without cultivating humility and empathy, we will perpetrate the very same cycles of judgement and exclusion.

The Path Forward: True Openness and Curiosity

What’s the solution here? Jonathan Haidt’s insights remind us that real dialogue begins by understanding the values behind other people’s beliefs, even if we disagree with them. Progress and healing require that we listen beyond the labels, engaging in good faith rather than moral grandstanding. If we are to avoid replicating the very structures we’re deconstructing, we need to make space for differing perspectives and approach them with curiosity.

So, this means you cannot demonize conservatives, you cannot call everyone that voted for Trump a bigot, racist, misogynist. There’s something wrong with that thinking. You have been sold these three untruths. It’s a tired accusation that doesn’t hold up when you look at the numbers. Trump support among white voters did drop from 57% in 2020 to 49% in 2024. But the kicker is his support among black and Latino voters actually went up from 38 to 42%. So, against all odds, Trump is doing something that the Democratic Party has failed to do for decades. He’s making the Republican Party more diverse than has been in 60 years. Let’s cut out the divisive name calling and start acknowledging the reality of his growing appeal across different communities.


Real change happens when we go beyond just labeling others and instead build spaces where critical thought can flourish—even when it’s uncomfortable. This is my message to the deconstruction community and beyond!

It’s simple: stop pretending that we have all the answers. True freedom of thought is not about certainty. It’s about curiosity. It’s about asking the tough questions, not just parroting whatever’s trendy on social media or echoing the louder voices in your ideological group.

We need to do away with the binary thinking that divides us into “good” or “evil,” “us” or “them,” and start embracing true diversity of thought. Only by having those uncomfortable, nuanced conversations will we ever break free from the ideological cults—whether they’re rooted in religion, politics, or even deconstruction itself.

So, as we wrap up today’s episode, remember this: It’s time to get real. Misinformation is everywhere, and sometimes, it’s coming from the very people who claim to be fighting it. Whether it’s the left, the right, or the deconstruction space—don’t get caught up in the hype.

Thanks for tuning in to Taste of Truth Tuesdays. Until next time, keep questioning, keep learning, and never, ever stop thinking for yourself.