Cultish
Amanda Montell
37 min
8 Key Points
4.5 RateWhat's inside?
Explore the power of language in creating and sustaining cult-like groups, from religious sects to fitness clubs, and learn how to identify and understand their manipulative tactics.
You'll learn
1. How cults use words to gain power2. The sneaky ways language can control us3. The scary similarities between cult talk and everyday chat4. Spotting the language tricks of cults5. The mind games of cultish lingo6. How to fight back against word manipulation.Key points
01What Exactly Makes a Cult a Cult?
Diving into the world of fanaticism requires us to first dismantle a massive misconception about how people actually end up in highly manipulative groups. We often hear stories of individuals joining extreme organizations and immediately assume they must be foolish, naive, or somehow mentally deficient. We ask ourselves how anyone could possibly fall for such obvious traps. Yet, the uncomfortable truth that Amanda Montell presents is that nobody ever joins a cult with the intention of joining a cult. People join communities. They seek out belonging, purpose, a sense of higher meaning, or simply a solution to a pressing problem in their lives. The mechanism that transforms a seemingly harmless community into a high-control group is not a mystical form of hypnosis, nor is it the cinematic idea of "brainwashing." In fact, sociologists and psychologists largely reject the concept of brainwashing as a pseudoscientific myth. Instead, the ultimate tool of coercion, the invisible glue that binds followers to a leader and to one another, is language. To understand how this linguistic coercion works, we have to look at the word "cult" itself. The term has evolved dramatically over the centuries. Originally, it simply referred to a system of religious veneration and devotion directed toward a particular figure or object, stemming from the Latin word cultus, which means to care for or cultivate. Today, however, the word has taken on a deeply sinister, sensationalized, and somewhat confusing double meaning. On one hand, we use it to describe dangerous, isolated sects that end in tragedy. On the other hand, we use it casually to describe our devotion to a particular skincare brand, a pop star, or a highly caffeinated beverage. We proudly declare that a movie is a "cult classic" or that we are following a "cult favorite" fitness routine. This duality is exactly what Montell calls the "Cultish" spectrum. This spectrum is crucial because it helps us realize that cultish influence is not a binary switch—it is a sliding scale. On the benign end of the spectrum, you have groups that use specialized language to foster a sense of fun, exclusivity, and shared identity without causing any real harm. Think of the inside jokes you share with your coworkers or the specialized jargon used by fans of a particular fantasy novel. On the destructive end of the spectrum, you have groups that use those exact same linguistic techniques to systematically dismantle a person's critical thinking, isolate them from their loved ones, and exploit them financially, emotionally, or physically. The transition from the harmless end of the spectrum to the dangerous end is paved with words. One of the most powerful linguistic tools used at the entry point of any cultish group is a tactic known as "love bombing." Love bombing is an intense, overwhelming flood of affection, praise, and validation directed at a new recruit. But it is not just about giving compliments; it is about using highly specific, emotionally charged language to make the recruit feel uniquely seen and understood. A recruiter might say things like, "I've never met anyone whose energy aligns so perfectly with our mission," or "You have a very rare gift that the world desperately needs." This language creates an immediate, intoxicating high. For someone who has been feeling lonely, marginalized, or simply adrift in the complexities of modern life, this sudden influx of linguistic validation is incredibly addictive. It establishes a baseline of trust and euphoric connection that the group will later use as leverage. Once the recruit is hooked on this feeling of belonging, the group begins to introduce its specialized vocabulary. Every profession and hobby has its own jargon, but cultish jargon serves a very specific, dual purpose: it binds the members together while simultaneously building a wall between them and the outside world. When you learn the specialized terms of a group, you feel like an insider. You have cracked the code. You are part of the "us." But this also means that when you try to talk to your family or friends outside the group, they no longer understand you. You sound strange to them, and their confusion is often framed by the group's leadership as hostility or ignorance. The group will tell you, "They just don't vibrate at our frequency," or "They are still trapped in the old way of thinking." This introduces the concept of "us versus them" rhetoric, which is the foundational bedrock of all cultish language. By constantly using contrasting labels—the enlightened versus the asleep, the saved versus the damned, the hard workers versus the lazy quitters—the group forces you to pick a side. It creates a linguistic environment where leaving the group or questioning the leader is not just a difference of opinion; it is framed as a moral failure, a betrayal, or a descent into darkness. The beauty and the terror of this system is that it does not require physical locks on the doors. The prison is constructed entirely out of words, and the members build the bars themselves every time they speak.
02The Deadly Linguistics of Extreme Fanaticism
When we think of the most devastating and extreme examples of cults, our minds inevitably drift to the tragic events of Jonestown and Heaven's Gate. These are the historical markers that defined the modern paranoia surrounding high-control groups. But if we strip away the sensational headlines and look closely at the transcripts, the sermons, and the recorded tapes, a chilling realization emerges: the leaders of these groups did not possess magical powers of persuasion. They were master manipulators of syntax, vocabulary, and linguistic pacing. They knew exactly how to use words to reshape reality, dismantle individual identities, and ultimately convince hundreds of people to act against their most fundamental survival instincts. Let us look closely at Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple. Jones was a master of a technique called "code-switching." Code-switching is the practice of alternating between two or more languages or varieties of language in conversation, depending on the audience. Jones was a white man leading a predominantly Black, working-class congregation during the height of the civil rights movement. To build his initial following, he adopted the cadence, the rhetorical flourishes, and the passionate delivery of a traditional Black Pentecostal preacher. He used the comforting, familiar language of the church to draw people in, promising social justice, racial equality, and a utopian community where everyone would be cared for. He spoke of love, integration, and fighting the corrupt system. However, once he had established trust and moved his followers to the isolated jungle of Guyana, his language shifted dramatically. The comforting religious rhetoric was slowly replaced by Marxist jargon, intense paranoia, and apocalyptic doom. He began using what linguist Robert Jay Lifton identified as "thought-terminating clichés." These are short, highly reductive phrases that sound profound but are actually designed to shut down critical thinking and end any debate. Whenever a member of Jonestown questioned the terrible living conditions, the lack of food, or the physical abuse, they were hit with thought-terminating clichés like, "It's all for the cause," or "You have to surrender your ego," or "That is the enemy speaking through you." These phrases act as cognitive stop signs. They do not answer the question; they make the person asking the question feel guilty for even having a doubt. By constantly bombarding his followers with these linguistic dead ends through loudspeakers that blared day and night, Jones created an environment of total mental exhaustion. A completely different, yet equally lethal, linguistic environment was constructed by Marshall Applewhite, the leader of the Heaven's Gate group. If Jim Jones used the language of the pulpit and the political rally, Applewhite used the language of corporate middle management mixed with 1970s science fiction. Heaven's Gate is often remembered for their matching tracksuits, Nike sneakers, and the tragic mass suicide timed with the arrival of the Hale-Bopp comet. But their journey to that point was paved with a highly sanitized, emotionless vocabulary designed to detach members from their own humanity. In Heaven's Gate, you did not have a body; you had a "vehicle." You did not die; you "exited your vehicle" or "graduated to the Next Level." The group did not live in a house; they lived in a "craft." They did not follow rules; they followed "procedures." This is a textbook example of "loaded language"—words and phrases that have strong emotional implications and are used to influence an audience, but in this case, the language was intentionally unloaded of human emotion. By forcing his followers to replace deeply personal, human words with sterile, sci-fi terminology, Applewhite severed their emotional connection to their own physical existence and their families. If a member missed their mother, they could not express it normally, because in the language of Heaven's Gate, their mother was just another biological vehicle playing a temporary role in this dimension. When the time came for the group to end their lives, the language they used made it sound like they were simply clocking out of a shift at work or upgrading their software. The linguistic sanitization of death was so complete that the members recorded farewell videos where they appeared genuinely cheerful and excited. They were not committing suicide in their minds; they were executing a required "procedure" to board a spacecraft. These extreme examples highlight a terrifying truth about human psychology. Our perception of reality is entirely mediated by the words we use to describe it. If a leader can control your vocabulary, they can control your thoughts. If they can redefine what the word "death" means, they can rob it of its terror. If they can redefine what "love" means, they can make abuse feel like affection. The tragedies of Jonestown and Heaven's Gate were not sudden explosions of madness; they were the final, fatal conclusions of a slow, methodical linguistic reprogramming. Understanding this helps us realize that extreme fanaticism does not happen overnight. It happens one redefined word, one code-switch, and one thought-terminating cliché at a time.
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03Scientology and the Business of Spiritual Abuse
04Multi-Level Marketing or Just Another Pyramid?
05Sweat, Devotion, and Boutique Fitness Tribes
06Social Media Gurus and the Cult of Influencers
07Conclusion
About Amanda Montell
Amanda Montell is a linguist, author, and podcast host. She's known for her work on language, gender, and culture. Her books include "Wordslut: A Feminist Guide to Taking Back the English Language" and "Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism". She also hosts the podcast "Sounds Like a Cult".
