Not a Cult
By Sen Oluguat
Emily laughed nervously. “When I was typing the name of your group, Google’s first autocomplete suggestion is ‘is it a cult?’”
Things had started so pleasantly. Emily had been hanging out outside of her apartment’s community room, reading a book. Normally, it was pretty quiet sitting at the tables outside, and since events were pretty rare she could usually count on being alone for some pleasant reading.
But then around 7, a bunch of people in black robes started going in and out of the community room, making it impossible for her to concentrate. She was curious about all of the props they seemed to be be transporting (were they a theater crew?), and so had struck up a conversation with one of the guys who didn’t seem to be involved in getting things set up.
He had told her the name of their organization, and she had typed it into Google while he talked.
“Oh, that’s funny,” he said, smiling. “No, we’re not a cult.”
“You’re not?” Emily said dubiously. “Why does Google say—”
He cut her off. “Look, our Founder was very concerned about our movement becoming a cult.”
“That’s, uh, not very reassuring,” she said. She was starting to look for a way to gracefully exit this conversation. She could just go and read up in her room, right?
“No, no, no! You’ve got it all wrong. Our Founder was concerned becoming a cult, so he looked up all the psychology research about cults that he could find. He wrote several chapters about how to avoid being a cult in our book.”
The man pulled out a thick book, with a title in gold lettering—“Thinking Correctly: How the World Really Is.”
“I’m pretty sure I have an appointment somewhere,” Emily said. “I should really be going.”
She said that, but stood watching the cloaked figures moving in and out with large wooden objects painted in strange patterns. It was so strange. She knew she needed to get out of there, but she found herself more and more curious about what they were up to in the community room.
“Uh, what are all the props for?” Emily asked curiously.
“Oh, you’re still here,” the man said, looking a little surprised. “I thought you were leaving?”
“I was…” Emily said uncertainly. “But I wanted to know what all of those wooden things are for. Are they for a stage show or something?”
“That’s one way of putting it,” the man said, rubbing his chin. “Our Founder wrote this huge book, laying out all the profound ideas he had discovered about life,” at this he lifted the book again. “But he realized most people didn’t have time for it. So, he thought a quicker introduction to his core ideas would be useful.”
“But what do all those symbols on the wood mean?” she asked. “Are those runes or zodiac signs of some kind?” She almost couldn’t keep her eyes off of them, every time a new one came through. There was just something so compelling about them. Inviting.
“Oh, those,” the man said. “Yeah, it took a lot of research to find those. Our Founder was a neuroscientist, and he was very concerned about people thinking for themselves. He studied propaganda, group dynamics, all of those things. He really wanted to make sure that his group never, ever became a cult.”
Emily nodded.
“So, what is the play about?” Emily asked.
“Hm…” the man looked thoughtful. “It’s kind of hard to put into words. It doesn’t exactly have a plot the way most people think about things. Traditional stories have too much in common with propaganda, and our Founder didn’t—”
“—want your group to become a cult?” Emily finished in unison with him. “You say that a lot. But don’t you find it suspicious that he was so focused on not being a cult?”
The man laughed. “Oh, only like three chapters of this book are about how to avoid becoming a cult. The rest is a bunch of really interesting essays on the art of thinking, and how to avoid falling into common traps that people get caught in when it comes to bad thinking.”
“Oh,” Emily said. “Do you have any examples? Like, I’m still not quite sure I understand what you guys are all about. It seems really abstract.”
The man stroked his chin, before snapping his fingers. “Here’s a good example. Have you ever lost control over yourself?”
Emily frowned. “You mean, like getting so angry you say things you regret later?”
“Exactly,” the man said.
“Well, of course I have! I don’t know a single person who hasn’t?” Emily said.
She was less scared now, and more annoyed. This group, whether they were a cult or not, seemed to be concerned with trivialities that most people had already figured out.
“Well, when you lost control of yourself, have you ever wondered who was in control of you?” the man said.
Emily’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that to be the direction he would go.
“Well, I mean, that is…” she frowned. “I mean, isn’t it just an expression? I’m always in control of myself, it’s just that sometimes I do things that I don’t want to do.”
“Isn’t that strange though?” the man said. “If you want to do something, why is it that you’re sometimes unable to?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said, shuffling uncertainly. “I always figured that I just want a lot of contradictory things, and sometimes I don’t have the willpower to do what I know is best.”
“But what is willpower?” he said. “Why can it run out? When you don’t have enough willpower to do something, why do you do the particular things you do?”
Emily felt a chill at his words. Suddenly, she was aware of two things.
One was that she very much wanted to walk away from this conversation. She just wanted to go back up to her apartment, make some tea, and enjoy a good book.
But two…
Two, she wasn’t doing that. As much as she wanted to. As much as what the man was saying was starting to bother her, she realized she couldn’t leave. No matter how she tried, she didn’t have the willpower.
“Please, I just want to go,” Emily said, her eyes starting to tear up. “I just want to leave. Whatever you’re doing, please stop it.”
“I’m not doing anything,” the man said, shaking his head. “I don’t know why you’re getting so upset. Maybe I shouldn’t have started with one of our Advanced concepts so early.”
“What do you mean?” Emily said. “Please, let me control myself again. Let me go!”
The man sighed. “I probably wasn’t the best person to go over this with you. I only just grasped this myself recently.”
“No,” Emily said. “That’s not acceptable. You did this to me, you have to help me now. Help me get free of this!”
The man shrugged. “Suit yourself. Okay, what if I told you that you’re actually doing exactly what you, the real you, wants to do right now.”
“I’d tell you you’re wrong,” Emily said. “I want to leave. I want to get out of here.”
“ what I said though. About who’s in control of you when you lose control of yourself?”
Emily realized what he was saying. At least, she thought she finally understood.
“My willpower,” she said. “It doesn’t actually make me do what I want.”
The man smiled. “Oh, you’re picking things up much quicker than I did. Good, so what does that mean to you?”
“Well, it’s like you said,” Emily said. “My willpower is always trying to get me to do things that I don’t want to do. I don’t really want to wake up early to go to work, or do what my boss says, or spend a ton of time exercising and taking care of my body. But…”
“Go on,” he said.
“But if I really wanted to do all those things, I wouldn’t need willpower in the first place. I would just do them. So, the things that take willpower to do, those aren’t the real me at all!”
He chuckled. “Very good. So what does that mean about why you’re standing here right now?”
“I’m standing here… because I want to?” she said.
She was still getting used to this new way of thinking. But it seemed correct. How else to explain why she was still here, still talking to this guy?
“So, who’s in control of you when you lose control of yourself?” he asked.
“The question, it’s framing is wrong,” she said slowly. “The only times I’m really in control of myself, are when I lose control of myself. It’s my own willpower that distorts my control, that makes me do things I don’t want to do.”
“Exactly, now you should be free, like I was,” he said. “So now that you’re not going to listen to your own will, what do you want to do? What does the real you want to do?”
She smiled.
“I guess… is this show you guys are putting on open to the public?” she asked. “I’d love to see what all of those props are about.”
“Of course,” he said. “Follow me!”
Emily’s feet finally moved, and she followed the cloaked man into the community room, which was full of cloaked figures. She smiled when somebody handed her a cloak, and a heavy book of her own.
From now on, Emily was going to let herself lose control entirely over her life. It was a wonderful sensation—she felt so free! All of the boring, hard things her willpower had made her do were behind her. Now, she would always do what she really wanted to do.
She looked around at all of the other people who had realized the same thing as her. She thanked the Founder for her good luck in finding this place.