I don’t get into debates with cultists. I was once employed
by Scientologists, but there was never a debate about their beliefs versus mine. Cults avoid confronting people with secure
belief systems, preferring to prey on those who are emotionally vulnerable with
no spiritual and/or intellectual foundation upon which to find solid footing.
That wasn’t me, and as I was viewed as a likely “suppressive person,”
they just fired me.
Though stressful at the time, looking back I value the experience.
I’ve always been fascinated by group psychology, especially as related to the different
types of cults: religious (Westboro Baptist Church, ISIS, Jim Jones’ Jonestown);
political (Social Justice Warriors, Environmentalists, White Supremacists); sports teams (as represented by Harvey Updyke). I would also include relatively innocuous groups like fitness freaks
or hardcore Trekkers. When you consider the people who comprise these groups,
you realize cultists simply aren’t people you try to debate … and you shouldn’t
let yourself be lured by the challenge. They won’t play by any recognizable standard
rules, because it’s just too important to them that they not lose.
You must understand that their whole world has been subsumed
by complete devotion to a messiah, fuehrer, an organization or an idea. Instead
of honoring Truth, they have found a new god to give their life meaning. Truth is
the great enemy of cultists; they will undergo amazing intellectual and
emotional contortions to deny what is real—casting aside their powers of observation
and reason as the very eyes that offend them. And whereas the rational man concedes a point here or there,
or acknowledges a specific weakness in his argument because it is true, the cultist will never do this.
Thus unencumbered by truth or reality he can always claim “victory” in his own
mind; his fanciful world preserved.
Though not as evil and dangerous as Islamic terrorists or (quite)
as deluded as Jim Jones’ followers, I’ve come to see Donald Trump’s supporters
as increasingly cult-like. This, I’m realizing, is why debating them is such a
waste of time. I observe Trump—note his sketchy past, hear his vile comments,
consider his ludicrous proposals and weigh his unrelenting megalomania—and wonder
how could any rational person possibly support this insufferable lout. But now
I understand that his sycophants are no longer rational. In defense of their
tin god, they have disconnected all the faculties that would allow them to see
Trump for what he truly is.
Trump’s cultists have subordinated their egos to that of
their master’s so that they, in a way, can become one with him. In return, his
proclamations of grandeur become their
affirmations of self-worth; his outlandish plans are adopted as their own brain-children; and perceived
slights against Trump are taken as the most personal
of insults. Trump’s apostles idolize him as flawless in his wisdom, purely righteous
in his endeavors, and fearless in his quests so that they too can claim a
little piece of his glorious divinity.
Of course, not everyone who votes for Trump or speaks
out on his behalf is a cultist (yet). A few see the opportunity for profit in
adding their voices to the snake oil salesman’s sideshow. Other’s don’t really
know enough about anything to make a smart political decision. Some think it
would just be funny to elect an obnoxious reality TV show star as President. And
perhaps the largest portion of Trump supporters are those angry at not getting
their way as often as they would like, and now petulantly embrace chaos in
revenge. Yet without a doubt, there is a growing Brown Shirt core of Trump’s legions—largely morphing from the fore-mentioned segments—who are anxious to serve their new savior without question. And I run across more and more of them every day.
When I criticize Trump—revile
his childishly cruel antics and words or prosecute his flimflammery—I am not
out to change the minds of his fanatics. That’s well beyond my meager abilities acting alone. Instead,
I am lending my words to rouse the unafflicted among us so that one day,
together we might stage an intervention for these pathetic lost souls before it
becomes too late to save them.
