Narrator: A thirteen-year-old girl in Massachusetts, feeling like an outsider, walks past a yoga studio. She hears strange, beautiful prayers in a foreign language and sees people dressed in flowing white. She feels an immediate pull, a sense of belonging she has craved her whole life. This was Tasha Samar’s introduction to the Kundalini yoga group 3HO, an organization she would dedicate the next eight years of her life to, only to escape after realizing the depth of its psychological control. Across the country in Los Angeles, an eighteen-year-old college student named Alyssa Clarke, intimidated by the fitness scene, joins a CrossFit gym. She is quickly immersed in a new world with its own coded language—WODs, AMRAPs, and Paleo diets. She feels a powerful sense of community, but also an intense pressure to conform. Though one environment led to spiritual devotion and the other to a strained hamstring, both Tasha and Alyssa were under the influence of something powerful and universal. This phenomenon is the subject of Amanda Montell’s book, Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism, which reveals that the line between a devoted community and a dangerous cult is drawn with words.

Narrator: At the heart of any "cultish" group, from a benign fitness club to a destructive doomsday cult, is the creation of a special language. Montell argues that this specialized lexicon is the primary tool for building a powerful sense of community and an "us versus them" mentality. Adopting new terminology is an immediate, seemingly low-commitment way for new members to signal their affiliation and begin to reshape their identity.

This was the experience of the author’s own father, Craig Montell, who was moved onto the Synanon commune as a teenager in 1969. Synanon had its own vocabulary, most notably "the Game," a ritual of vicious group criticism designed to break down individuals and enforce conformity. For members, this shared language created a unique reality, separating them from the "squares" on the outside. Similarly, when Tasha Samar was drawn to 3HO, it was the sound of foreign prayers and the adoption of a new spiritual name that solidified her new identity and bound her to the group. Montell shows that whether it’s the Sanskrit terms in a yoga class or the acronyms in a corporate manual, specialized language fosters a culture of shared understanding that is exclusive to insiders, making it both a powerful bonding agent and a formidable barrier to outsiders.

Narrator: While some cultish language is relatively harmless, Montell demonstrates its most terrifying potential by examining the history of so-called "suicide cults." The phrase "drinking the Kool-Aid," often used casually to describe blind conformity, has a horrific origin in the 1978 Jonestown massacre. The leader of the Peoples Temple, Jim Jones, was a master of rhetorical manipulation. He expertly used language to gain and maintain control over his followers.

Jones employed techniques like "love-bombing"—showering new recruits with affection and praise, as he did with survivor Leslie Wagner Wilson, whom he called his "little Angela Davis." He was also a master of code-switching, adapting his speech to connect with his diverse, predominantly African American congregation while maintaining an inner circle of young, white women. In the isolated jungle of Jonestown, his language became the only reality. He conducted "White Nights," or crisis rehearsals, and reframed mass suicide as a "revolutionary" act of protest against a cruel world. The Jonestown Death Tape, a recording of the final hour, is a chilling testament to the lethal power of words, as Jones calmly persuades over 900 people, including children, that "death is not a fearful thing, it’s living that’s cursed." This tragedy reveals that language, in the hands of a skilled manipulator, can be used not just to influence minds, but to end lives.

Narrator: Montell argues that cultish influence is not confined to remote communes or fringe religions. It thrives today in environments that promise personal transformation, financial freedom, and empowerment. Two of the most potent examples are Scientology and multi-level marketing companies (MLMs). Both use a sophisticated architecture of control built on language designed to shut down critical thought.

Scientology, for instance, employs a vast, proprietary vocabulary and uses "thought-terminating clichés" to halt dissent. Ex-member Cathy Schenkelberg recounts how she was drawn in by promises of career success and a more fulfilling life, only to find herself isolated and financially drained. The church discouraged her from consuming any "black PR," effectively cutting her off from outside information. Similarly, MLMs like Optavia and Rodan + Fields use the language of the "#BossBabe" to sell the promise of entrepreneurship, particularly to stay-at-home mothers. They create a cult-like environment with secret Facebook groups, inspirational conferences, and mantras that frame failure not as a flaw in the business model—where 99% of participants lose money—but as a personal lack of effort. In both cases, the language creates a closed loop where the group has the answer to every problem and any doubt is a sign of the individual's own weakness.

Narrator: In an era of declining trust in traditional institutions like organized religion and government, many people are searching for meaning, purpose, and community elsewhere. Montell posits that this void is increasingly being filled by boutique fitness studios and online wellness gurus. These modern spaces have become the new secular churches, and their leaders are the new clergy.

Fitness brands like SoulCycle and intenSati are not just selling a workout; they are selling a spiritual breakthrough. Instructors deliver motivational monologues over pulsing music, using ritualistic and affirming language—"You are powerful beyond measure," "Co-create your reality"—to foster a transcendent experience. The dark, candlelit rooms resemble sanctuaries, and the shared physical ordeal creates a powerful bond among participants. This phenomenon extends into the digital realm, where social media influencers like Bentinho Massaro and Dr. Joe Dispenza build massive followings. They use a mix of pseudo-scientific jargon and spiritual promises to attract vulnerable individuals, creating online echo chambers where their authority is rarely questioned. The tragic story of Brent Wilkins, a follower of Massaro who died by suicide during a retreat, shows the real-world danger of these digital cults. Social media itself, Montell concludes, has become the ultimate pseudo-church, using algorithms to generate ideological sects that can be just as insular and influential as any traditional cult.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from Cultish is that the power to influence and control others lies not in exotic beliefs, but in the mundane, everyday tool of language. The same linguistic techniques that bind a CrossFit box together are present, in more extreme forms, in the most destructive cults. Amanda Montell provides a crucial field guide to this language, revealing that the desire for belonging is a fundamental human need, but it is also our greatest vulnerability.

The book challenges us to become more critical consumers of the words we hear and the communities we join. It’s not about avoiding groups with special lingo—that would mean avoiding much of human culture. Instead, the challenge is to cultivate awareness. By understanding the mechanics of cultish language, we can better distinguish between communities that uplift us and those that seek to control us, ensuring that the words we adopt are ones that we have chosen freely.