Cults: Like therapy, but the therapist thinks they’re God
What do you imagine when you hear the word cult? It’s probably white robes, a doomsday countdown, or a messiah with poor impulse control and excellent branding. But cults don’t usually announce themselves with matching outfits and slogans. Instead, they can look like self-improvement programs, wellness retreats, or a slightly too intense book club that is somehow draining your bank account.
What about the people who join cults? Contrary to popular belief, they are not gullible fools who went off in search of the nearest spaceship. They are just people who are often lacking a sense of community and control in their own lives.
Hope (or the reason why you ignored those red flags)
Cult’s don’t usually go looking for desperate people, they are looking for hopeful ones. Maybe you’re just looking for health, or clarity, or meaning. Maybe you’re overwhelmed with the chaos and noise of the modern world. And then along comes someone who says they have ~the answer~. And lucky you, it’s exclusive!
At the beginning, everything will feel great. You’re showered with compliments (You’re a truth seeker!!!), attention (You belong here!!!), and snacks (These are gluten free cosmic energy balls!!!). It will give you a sense of community and purpose. This phase is called lovebombing. You’ll miss it later.
The language trap
One of the key red flags of a cult is that eventually, everyone starts to sound the same. No one says anything plainly. Instead, your everyday language gets swapped out for something that sounds deeper, but usually just means “stop thinking too hard”. People don’t “feel anxious” anymore; now, they are “misaligned with the source”. Questioning the leader? That’s “resistance from your lower self”. And if someone leaves the group? They’re “breaking their soul contract” (aka moving back in with their parents).
Cults love loaded language because it makes followers feel special and outsiders feel stupid. If you don’t understand what’s going on, you’re told to “trust the process” or “stop intellectualising your journey” (aka please shut up and stop being difficult).
Being grumpy might save you from being scammed
Not all thinking is created equal. The human brain runs on two systems: System 1 is fast, intuitive, and automatic. It’s excellent for spotting danger or parking your car on autopilot, but not so good at evaluating the spiritual merits of a man selling enlightenment for $799 a session. System 2 is slower, more effortful, and capable of rational judgment. However, it requires energy and motivation, which is why we don’t always use it when we should.
People who rely heavily on System 1 tend to be more susceptible to fraud, charisma, and YouTube gurus with ring lights. Protective factors include higher education, training in the scientific method, and (surprisingly) being in a bad mood.
Leaving is hard, even when it’s obvious
Eventually, most people will leave cults before it gets dangerous. Not because they have seen the light, but because things just stop working. The promises don’t deliver. The community fractures. The leader starts asking for your passport, your savings, or your liver.
But leaving isn’t easy. People stay because they are scared, because they have been isolated, or because the sunk-cost fallacy is real and depressing. When your entire social life, self-worth, and belief system have been built inside a group, it is scary to jump back into a world that now looks unfamiliar and suspicious.
And even once you’re out, there’s the existential hangover: Was I really part of that? How did I not see it? Is “cleansing my auric field” a transferable skill?
So, what makes a group a cult?
Not every intense or weird group is a cult. But some signs that you’re headed into that territory include:
The leader is treated like a prophet and/or deity
You’re discouraged from spending time with other non-believers (aka your mum)
There’s a lot of jargon and questioning it makes people uncomfortable
Doubts are framed as personal failures or “resistance”
Your bank balance is shrinking
If you’ve stopped sleeping and started journalling about the “collective ascension timeline”, it might be time to go for a long walk and call someone boring.
