This is a new approach for me. I’ve felt the need to cover this topic for a long time now and really wanted to write an expose. In fact, I have a two-hundred page draft written, but I keep walking away because I’ve struggled with the why. Why do I want to write this? In 1994, I came home from an AA meeting one night. I was 16 years old, and I still lived with my dad for a few more months at least. My dad was sitting on the floor in the living room with a Big Book sitting on the floor beside him. My heart sank because my dad was not an alcoholic. In fact, he never drank at all. So, I was sure this was going to be a conversation that I was not going to enjoy. I do not remember the entire conversation and wouldn’t recount it all if I did. What I do remember is that he said, “I read this book today. I figured I needed to since you’re involved in this thing. I think you’re in a cult and I do not want you going anymore.”
I moved out shortly after that, which was completely unrelated to the conversation, but I never forgot the conversation. I did not agree with him, but I had a tremendous amount of respect for my dad and his opinions. Still to this day, I’ve never met anyone more intelligent. But my respect for my dad has kept my eyes wide open.
But that’s not why I want to write this either. Why I want to write this comes down to a single, nagging question: What about the newcomer? I’ve been sober for a long time now. Nowhere near 32 years, as you might assume if you do not know me. I’ve been clean and sober since 2018. I’ve learned a few things, but none more important than this: there’s something wrong with the current state of AA. There’s something wrong, and we may be killing more people than we are “healing.”
So since I do not want to write a book or become the sole interpreter of the Big Book, I’m just going to talk about my experience and how AA has appeared to me. I’d like to spend the next four weeks looking at this primarily from my personal perspective. Since my story is all I’m qualified to talk about, I’ll do my best to stick to that. So, if I have your attention, let’s get started.
Accountability vs Megalomania
When someone leaves a cult, they are persona non grata, frequently framed as wrong, negative, or doomed to fail. Members who stay are discouraged or even forbidden from talking to people who have left because they “pose a danger.” This is an easy form of control. By playing on a person’s instinctual need to be part of a society, they demonize anyone who speaks out or leaves. They repeat the same story over and over from the beginning: “Everyone who leaves drinks every time.” Or, “I always know a new person is lying to me when their habits change, they are about to drink.” These phrases, other phrases, are repeated over and over until a person no longer sees a legitimate reason to leave.
What supposedly separates AA from a traditional cult is its lack of a centralized, fanatical leader. However, because the program relies on absolute group autonomy, it has left the door open for egomaniacal personalities to flourish.
A true megalomaniac does not need to write their own holy book; they simply become the exclusive interpreter of an existing one. A cult does not require a compound, a customized uniform, or a single charismatic prophet broadcasting from a mountaintop. Sometimes, all it requires is a mandatory 15-minute daily phone call, a stack of blue books, and a room full of people who are too terrified to question anyone. Especially someone who speaks with authority.
This is where modern recovery culture fails the very people it was designed to save. AA operates without a structural hierarchy. This was a beautiful design choice meant to foster absolute humility. But a system with no oversight is a vacant throne. For a high-functioning megalomaniac, that vacancy is an irresistible invitation. They don’t need to build a new institution from scratch; they simply inherit an old one that has laid down its defenses.
Consider the mechanics of modern sponsorship. If you go to any room anywhere, you’ll hear story after story tantamount to “I surrendered to my sponsor’s will”. It’s rarely said bluntly and honestly, rarely even understood by the person speaking that, that’s what’s actually even happened. However, the sponsor dictates the newcomers’ choices, mandates their timeline, and locks them into a perpetual loop of dependency. The newcomers’ job, even though they do not realize it, is to feed their sponsor’s ego. They are the visual proof of a repair job that the sponsor completed. And the cycle continues. The newcomer will sell the sponsorship chain to the next broken man walking through the door. They will instill the idea of a dogmatic lineage in him, the way it was instilled into them.
I want to talk about how we break that chain. I want to look at the few simple rules that actually matter, do the work, and then step out of the “rooms” and back into the world.
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If you want to know more about how I ended up here doing what I do, maybe check out the book: Fragmented
~ Ryan
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