Olivia: Alright Jackson, I’m going to say a word, and you give me the first image that pops into your head. Ready? The word is... "cult." Jackson: Easy. Robes, a remote compound, and some questionable-tasting punch. Probably a charismatic leader with crazy eyes. Olivia: Exactly! That’s the Hollywood caricature, right? But what if the most powerful cultish language isn't on a compound, but in your spin class or your Instagram DMs? Jackson: Hold on, my spin class? I mean, they're intense, but I don't think they're planning to ascend to a higher dimension on a comet. Olivia: Maybe not, but that's the fascinating territory explored in "Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism" by Amanda Montell. Jackson: Amanda Montell... she's a linguist, right? Not a sociologist or a cult investigator. That's an interesting angle. Olivia: Precisely. And that's the book's superpower. Montell's background is in linguistics, and she even hosts a popular podcast exploring these very ideas. Her father was actually in a commune called Synanon as a teenager, so she grew up with this fascination. She argues that to understand fanaticism, you don't need to look at mysterious brainwashing, you need to look at words. Jackson: So it’s not about mind control, it’s about… grammar? Olivia: It’s about how language builds a world. And once you're inside that world, with its own dictionary and rules, it can be very, very hard to leave.

Jackson: Okay, but calling a CrossFit gym 'cultish' feels like a stretch. Are we just using the word for everything now? It feels like it loses its meaning. Olivia: That’s the exact point Montell makes. The word 'cult' is so loaded, so pejorative, that it's almost useless. She prefers the term 'cultish' because it suggests a spectrum. On one end, you have groups that are just about community and shared identity, which can be healthy. On the other, you have total, destructive control. But they all use similar linguistic tools. Jackson: What kind of tools? Olivia: Let's start with a seemingly harmless example from the book: CrossFit. Montell tells the story of a college student, Alyssa, who joins a CrossFit gym. Almost immediately, she's immersed in a new language. Jackson: Oh, I can see this coming. Olivia: It’s not just a gym; it’s a “box.” The workout isn’t a workout; it’s the “WOD,” the Workout of the Day. You have AMRAPs, EMOMs, and you’re probably eating Paleo or Keto because that’s part of the culture. This specialized jargon does two things brilliantly: it creates an instant sense of insider status and community. You know the code. Jackson: Right, if you don't know what a WOD is, you're clearly an outsider. It's like a secret handshake. Olivia: Exactly. And it fosters incredible devotion. But Montell contrasts this with a more spiritual group, 3HO, a Kundalini yoga organization. A young woman named Tasha is drawn in, not by fitness, but by the sound of "prayers... all in another language." She felt like an outsider in her own life, and this group offered a secret, sacred language. Jackson: So in both cases, it's the language that creates the allure of belonging. Olivia: Yes. For Tasha, it escalated. She was given a new name, Daya Kaur Khalsa. Think about the power of that. Your old identity is literally erased and replaced with a new one that only has meaning inside the group. It’s a powerful way to signal commitment. Jackson: Wow, okay. A new name is definitely a few steps beyond learning what a 'burpee' is. Olivia: It is. But the underlying mechanism is the same. Adopting new terminology is an easy, seemingly commitment-free first step. You start talking the talk, and before you know it, you're walking the walk. The book was widely praised for making this connection, showing how these patterns are all around us, though some critics felt it stretched the definition of 'cult' a bit too far. Jackson: I can see why. It’s a bit unsettling to think my obsession with my favorite sports team, with all its chants and insider jokes, has something in common with a destructive cult. Olivia: It’s on the same spectrum of human behavior. The language of belonging is powerful. But that power can be used for fun and community, or it can be twisted into something much, much darker.

Olivia: And that's the pivot the book makes so brilliantly. The same linguistic tools that build a fun gym community can be weaponized to build a mental prison. And there's no more chilling example of that than Jonestown. Jackson: Right, this is the deep end of the pool. This is the Kool-Aid, or actually, as the book points out, it was Flavor Aid. Olivia: A crucial distinction that survivors are adamant about. The phrase "drinking the Kool-Aid" has become this casual idiom for blind conformity, and it completely trivializes the horror of what happened. Over 900 people died, a third of them children. And Montell argues it was language that led them there. Jackson: How could words possibly convince over 900 people to do that? It seems impossible. Olivia: It wasn't one speech. It was a slow, methodical process of linguistic conditioning. Jim Jones was a master of language. The book features the story of a survivor, Leslie Wagner Wilson, who joined the Peoples Temple as a teenager. She said Jones "love-bombed" her. Jackson: What exactly is 'love-bombing'? Is it just being overwhelmingly nice? Olivia: It's a deluge of affection and praise, designed to make you feel seen and special, to forge an immediate, intense bond. Jones called Leslie his "little Angela Davis," making her feel like a chosen, important part of his revolutionary movement. It builds trust, which he later exploits. Jackson: So he builds them up with one kind of language... Olivia: And then he traps them with another. In Jonestown, he created a complete, isolated reality. They had their own vocabulary. But the most terrifying example is how he redefined death itself. He didn't call it mass suicide. He called it "revolutionary suicide." Jackson: That reframing is chilling. 'Suicide' is an act of despair. 'Revolutionary suicide' sounds... heroic. Noble. Olivia: Precisely. It’s an act of political defiance against a cruel, racist world. He framed it as the only logical, dignified exit. He also conditioned them with drills he called "White Nights," where they would practice the suicide ritual. He was normalizing the unthinkable through repetition and language. Jackson: So by the time the real moment came, the word "death" meant something completely different in their minds. Olivia: It meant release. It meant loyalty. On the infamous "death tape," you can hear Jones saying, "Death is not a fearful thing, it’s living that’s cursed." He had completely inverted reality for them. A survivor is quoted in the book saying something that will stick with me forever: "It was with language... That’s how he gained and kept control." It wasn't magic. It was words, deployed with surgical, sociopathic precision. Jackson: That's horrifying. It moves it from this incomprehensible, monstrous act to something you can almost see the mechanics of. A step-by-step dismantling of a person's reality through language. Olivia: And that's why understanding these mechanics is so important. Because while Jonestown is an extreme example, the techniques themselves haven't gone away. They've just adapted to new technologies.

Jackson: Okay, so the techniques are timeless. How are they showing up now, in our world? I'm guessing it's not through charismatic preachers in the jungle anymore. Olivia: No, it's through your social media feed. Montell dedicates a huge part of the book to what she calls the "cult of the internet," which manifests in a few key ways. First, Multi-Level Marketing companies, or MLMs. Jackson: Oh man, the 'Hey girlboss!!!' DMs! I've seen my friends get those. It's the exact same pattern. Olivia: It is! The book tells the story of a woman named Becca who gets pulled into a diet program MLM called Optavia. Her social media becomes a stream of vague, inspirational quotes and hashtags like '#BossBabe' and '#financialfreedom'. The language is all about empowerment, community, and taking control of your life. Jackson: But what's the "cultish" part? It just sounds like annoying marketing. Olivia: The cultish part is the thought-terminating clichés. When people in MLMs fail—which, statistically, 99% of them do—they're not told the system is flawed. They're told, "You just didn't want it enough," or "You have to fake it 'til you make it." Any criticism of the model is reframed as a personal failing, a lack of belief. It shuts down thought and turns the blame inward. Becca, the woman in the story, eventually gets out and tells the author, "And that shit was legit a crazy cult." Jackson: Wow. It traps you by making you believe any failure is your own fault. That's insidious. Olivia: And this brings us to the online wellness and spiritual gurus. Montell profiles a man named Bentinho Massaro, an Instagram guru who claimed to "vibrate at a higher frequency." He built a following by mixing pseudo-scientific jargon with spiritual promises. Jackson: Let me guess, he also had thought-terminating clichés? Olivia: The best one. If followers expressed doubt or negative emotions, he'd command them to "simply start destroying" their "allegiances to logic, to reason." He was literally telling them to stop thinking critically. He framed his verbal aggression as a form of "divine kindness" because he was "purifying" them. Jackson: That's just classic abuser language, dressed up in spiritual garb. Olivia: Exactly. And it culminated in tragedy. A devoted follower died by suicide during one of his retreats. The internet allows these figures to build global followings, creating echo chambers where their word is law, completely disconnected from reality. Social media algorithms are designed to feed you more of what you already like, making them perfect incubators for modern cults. Jackson: So what's the defense? If these techniques are everywhere, from our gyms to our DMs, how do we spot this and protect ourselves? It feels a little overwhelming.

Olivia: It can feel overwhelming, but Montell offers a really clear-eyed takeaway. The defense isn't about being 'too smart' to fall for a cult. She points out that intelligent people are often just better at rationalizing beliefs they arrived at for emotional reasons. Jackson: That makes a scary amount of sense. So it’s not about IQ. Olivia: No. The real defense is linguistic awareness. It's about developing an ear for this kind of language. It's about asking a simple question when you encounter it: What does this language do? Does it invite questions, or does it shut them down? Does it use clear terms, or is it full of vague, emotionally-charged buzzwords? Jackson: Does it connect you to reality, or does it try to create its own? Olivia: That's the heart of it. Does it encourage you to think for yourself, or does it demand you "act as if" and "destroy your allegiance to logic"? The book is a call to become more critical consumers of the words we're fed every single day. Jackson: So the takeaway is to pay attention to the language we use and the language used on us. It's about maintaining what the book calls a 'safe word'—the ability to ask questions, to express doubt, and to say 'no.' Olivia: Exactly. Legitimate ideas, and legitimate communities, should be able to withstand scrutiny. They shouldn't crumble the moment you ask, "But what does that actually mean?" Jackson: That’s a powerful and, frankly, very practical tool for navigating the modern world. It’s not about being a cynic, it’s about being a critical thinker. Olivia: And that's a perfect place to leave it. We're curious to hear from our listeners. Have you ever encountered 'cultish' language in an unexpected place? A job, a fitness group, an online community? Let us know your stories. We love hearing from you. Jackson: This is Aibrary, signing off.