The Anti-Gurus
by John Horgan

In 1999, just after I started researching my mysticism book, I asked for advice on sources from J.P., a man who works for a holistic-learning institute in New York City. J.P. cautiously recommended a book that had caused quite a stir after its publication in 1993 for its critique of the enlightenment industry. Although the book makes valid points about the dangers of mystical traditions such as Buddhism and Hinduism, J.P. warned me, it "throws out the baby with the bathwater."

That was how I learned of The Guru Papers: Masks of Authoritarian Power. The authors, Alstad and Joel Kramer, have lived together in Bolinas, California, since 1974 and are veterans of the American spiritual scene. In The Guru Papers, they analyze and criticize authoritarian ideologies, primarily religious ones.

They take on the great western monotheistic traditions, Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. But what has made their book a lightning rod in the alternative spiritual community is its assault on eastern mystical traditions such as Buddhism and Hinduism. Because the authoritarianism of these traditions is better concealed than that of the monotheistic religions, Alstad and Kramer argue, it is even more insidious.

Alstad and Kramer distinguished mystical visions from the interpretations we give them. These experiences, they wrote, can be profoundly transformative, in the best sense; they can "alter one’s relationship to daily life and also profoundly change the way one approaches death and dying." The trouble begins when we interpret our visions, transforming them into beliefs and ideologies.

Like the anti-perennialist philosopher Steven Katz, Alstad and Kramer held that the interpretations we impose upon our experiences—and even the initial experiences themselves--invariably reflect our personal and cultural backgrounds: "Hindus have Hindu mystical experiences, Christians have Christian ones," they stated. Our experience "is not ‘pure’ (nothing is) but is historically and culturally embedded."

Alstad and Kramer looked askance at the notion that mystical epiphanies unveil the oneness underlying the apparent diversity of existence. They noted that since the phrase "Thou are that" was first set forth in the Upanishads, tens of millions of people have tried to create a better world by adhering to moral codes that exalt oneness and self-abnegation as the supreme virtues. This 3,000-year-old experiment, Alstad and Kramer declared, has been a total failure; humans are still as selfish and divisive as ever.

"[T]his morality has failed not because there is something wrong with people," Alstad and Kramer elaborated, "but because the framework constructs ideals that are impossible to achieve, thus setting people up for failure and self-mistrust." It is no accident, Alstad and Kramer added, that oneness-based theologies took hold in India, one of the world’s most highly stratified, divided cultures; Hindu ashrams, Tibetan Buddhist monasteries, Zen centers, and other organizations founded on the oneness principle are also authoritarian--and usually patriarchal--hierarchies.

The oneness doctrine appeals to modern westerners, Alstad and Kramer noted, because it seems less authoritarian and easier to reconcile with science than western theologies, but it is riddled with contradictions. It takes an individual, after all, to experience oneness; moreover, the concept of oneness "has within it a hidden duality" that leads to a hierarchical division of reality. Oneness ideologies denigrate individuality as illusory and self-interest as sinful, the source of all suffering and evil.

Buddhism and Hinduism in particular postulate the existence of certain rare beings who have transcended their individuality and thus experience oneness in a deep and abiding fashion. These are the enlightened ones, gurus, masters, sages, avatars. "The very nature of any structure that makes one person different and superior to others... breeds authoritarianism," Alstad and Kramer stated.

Indeed, gurus are the ultimate authority figures. The guru insists that the path to enlightenment comes through surrender to him. The guru claims that those who devote themselves to him will be rewarded with bliss, self-knowledge, immortality, states that are "conveniently as difficult to reach as they are compelling," Alstad and Kramer pointed out. The guru projects an air of absolute certainty not only about his enlightenment but about almost all matters. When criticized, the guru accuses the critic of being mired in illusion and egotism, which the guru, of course, has transcended.

Both as individuals and as a species, Alstad and Kramer warned, we face real-world problems, some of which threaten our very existence. Spirituality can help motivate us to address these problems, by boosting our empathy for our fellow humans and for all of life. But spirituality should incorporate reason as well as emotion and intuition, and it should be "embedded in daily life, not separate from it."

Although they were encouraged by the spread of democracy around the world, they worried that so many of us are still looking for saviors—either living ones or ones long dead, like Buddha and Christ. Adulthood means "realizing that ultimately others cannot know what’s best for you," they wrote.

Seen through the lens of The Guru Papers, the rhetoric of mysticism appears not mysterious and paradoxical but Orwellian: Only through submission will we find true liberation. All are one, but some are more one than others. In fact, after I read The Guru Papers, all spiritual systems suddenly seemed suspect. As Alstad and Kramer wrote, religions "construct a realm different from and superior to daily life, label it spiritual, and then create authorities who give unchallengable directives on how to get there."

In the spring of 1999, I met Alstad and Kramer in New York City, where they were visiting friends. Physically, they were as unalike as a couple could be. Kramer was short, wiry, bald, with a bulging, permanently knotted brow. He reminded me of paintings of Boddhidarma, the fierce old Zen patriarch. Phrases such as "in my opinion" and "from my perspective" served as carrier waves for his thoughts—and reminders of his views’ subjective nature. Alstad, in contrast, was tall, blond, serene, almost ethereal—in repose, anyway. When she spoke she was if anything even more fervent and sharp-tongued than Kramer.

Advances in science and human rights, she contended, have rendered obsolete much of the so-called wisdom of our ancestors. "I don’t see any reason to feel that the past had any special or privileged information that we don’t have from our own experiences." Alstad was aghast that so many intelligent people still view eastern religions, shamanism, and other ancient spiritual traditions as a "sacred, special entry way" into cosmic truth. "They were primitive patriarchies," she declared, "that had rigid sex roles and headsets."

Born in 1937 in Coney Island to non-observant Jewish parents, Kramer took graduate courses in philosophy at Columbia and New York University before deciding that academic philosophy was not for him. After moving to Berkeley in 1963, he was swept up in the counterculture. He spent five months in the mid-1960’s living in Millbrook, New York, with Timothy Leary. He taught yoga at Esalen in the late 1960’s and went on to become a globe-trotting yoga instructor.

One influence on his thinking during this period was Jiddu Krishnamurti, who urged audiences to seek liberation on their own rather than submitting to a guru or other authority figure. Kramer was particularly impressed with Krishnamurti’s teachings on "self-reflexivity," a process whereby the mind rigorously examines its own workings. Kramer’s 1974 book The Passionate Mind presented his version of Krishnamurti’s philosophy.

Kramer became disillusioned with Krishnamurti when he realized that the charismatic anti-guru guru had an authoritarian streak himself. Krishnamurti isolated himself from criticism and feedback, "just like everybody he was criticizing," Kramer said, and had to have "the last word on everything."

I asked Kramer how he avoids that trap: creating an anti-ideology that turns into an ideology itself. "I’ll tell you how I think I avoid it," Kramer said. He tries to acknowledge that his point of view is just that, a point of view, based on his own experiences and interpretations of them. "If somebody can come up with something that is more likely, I am very interested in that."

Alstad, born in 1944 in Minnesota into a Lutheran family, spent more time in academia before plunging into spirituality. She earned a doctorate in literature from Yale and helped to create the program in womens’ studies there. By the early 1970’s, when she was teaching at Duke University, she was becoming disaffected with academia and curious about yoga, meditation, and other spiritual practices.

In the summer of 1972, she traveled across the country visiting different spiritual centers. She was for the most part disappointed by what she found. One yoga ashram in the southwest was organized as an almost medieval hierarchy, with rigidly defined sex roles. The ashram’s Indian-born guru decreed that only men could work in the garden, and that women must do all the cooking and cleaning. The guru arranged all marriages, and he ordered couples to sleep together no more than once a month.

Alstad’s last stop was Bolinas, California, where at the urging of a friend she attended a workshop led by Kramer. Alstad was moved, even shaken, by Kramer’s teachings. "I went away from the workshop not knowing if I really liked him," she said. When she asked questions about enlightenment, reincarnation, and other issues with which she had been wrestling, Kramer did not give her easy answers, like most other teachers. Instead, he tried to get her to consider what her questions implied about her own fears and desires.

Kramer interjected that he had always resisted his students’ efforts to turn him into a guru. "I don’t know if you have ever been a recipient of real adulation," he asked me.

Unfortunately, no, I replied.

Well, he had, Kramer said, and he knew very well how tempting it could be to encourage that sort of worship in students. For both his own sake and that of his students, he kept his distance from them.

"He was very austere in the workshops," Alstad confirmed. "He wasn’t trying to hook you emotionally, or manipulate you, or please you." At the same time, "there was always great respect." Alstad recalled that one of Kramer’s basic messages was, "Follow your interests. This is what life is about, following your interests."

Alstad took this message to heart. She quit her job at Duke, and over the next year and a half she attended four more of Kramer’s workshops, including one that she sponsored herself at her home in North Carolina.

Their relationship took a while to blossom. Kramer was married with two children when they met, and "kind of shy," Alstad said. She and Kramer only became involved and moved in together after Kramer’s first marriage unraveled in 1974. Alstad became first the manager of his career and then his partner in teaching workshops on male-female relations.

By the early 1980’s, Alstad and Kramer were becoming increasingly disaffected with the culture of spirituality. During a long trip to India, they spent countless hours "talking about how gurus manipulate people and why people let them," Alstad said. Her notes on their conversations--elaborated upon by her and Kramer for almost a decade--became The Guru Papers. Alstad and Kramer lost some friendships as a result of the book, and they were denounced by other spiritual authors. "There are lots of people who don’t particularly care for us," Kramer said.

Alstad and Kramer no longer believe in the concept of enlightenment, especially if it is defined as complete dissolution or transcendence of the selfish ego. "I don’t believe it’s possible for anyone to transcend self-centeredness in a permanent way," Kramer said. "I think there are times you can do it momentarily. Altruism exists." But altruism and egotism "are embedded in each other," he explained.

When I mentioned that some gurus have an air of supreme self-confidence that lends credence to their claims to be enlightened, Kramer smiled grimly. "It’s amusing to me that one of peoples’ conceptions about enlightenment has to do with being this self-contained unit, where nothing can come in and bother you," he said. "That’s what psychopaths are like. Nothing comes in and bothers them."

Alstad and Kramer have had mystical experiences—through psychedelics and in other contexts—but they were reluctant to talk about them. Too often, revealing your mystical experiences sets you apart from others, Kramer explained. He is also acutely aware that he, like everyone, interprets his experiences according to his prior conditioning. He rejected the notion that mystical experiences represent pure, unfiltered visions of reality, which transcend the mystic’s personal and cultural context.

"This is one of the most dangerous ideas the human mind has ever constructed," Kramer said heatedly, "the idea of purity, whether it be pure experience or pure this or pure that."

A healthy spirituality, Alstad added, should not focus on altered states; it should help us confront and find solutions for all the problems besetting us, such as overpopulation, environmental degradation, violent nationalism, racism, and sexism. Religion too often exacerbates our problems rather than ameliorating them, Alstad suggested, and not just by fomenting intolerance and violent fundamentalism.

"A lot of people who could be part of the intelligent solutions are the ones whose heads are lost" in some form of traditional spirituality, she explained. Even a spiritual path that emphasizes selflessness, forgiveness, and unconditional love can do harm by diverting us away from real-world problems.

Although Alstad and Kramer still practice yoga, they are wary of how meditation is often employed in religious traditions. "Traditional meditation is a form of mind control, that has behind it a worldview," Kramer said.

"And we think it’s a harmful worldview," Alstad added sternly. Thousands of years ago, meditation represented a step forward for humanity, because it provided "some deeper understanding of the cosmos that was beyond ordinary perception for that time." Spiritual teachers such as Buddha and Jesus were "great reformers" in their era, but the institutions founded on their original insights have become harmful anachronisms.

Alstad reminded me that Buddha’s quest for enlightenment began with his abandonment of his wife and child. Hinduism and Buddhism still exalt detachment from everyday life and relationships as the pinnacle of spirituality. Women would never have created such religions on their own, Alstad said. "The new spirituality needs to be co-created by men and women." Such a spirituality would emphasize the importance of human relations rather than denigrating them.

You can tell a lot about gurus, Alstad said, from their treatment of and attitude toward women. Even if a guru does not actually abuse women, as many do, he may still treat females--including his own wife--as servants. When someone tells Alstad about a supposedly enlightened guru, she likes to ask, "What has he learned from a woman lately? What has he learned from his wife? What do his intimate relationships with women look like? Does he have a co-evolutionary relationship or an old-fashioned one?"

Humanity, Alstad continued, is in some respects "incredibly sophisticated and creative"—for example, in the realms of science, technology, and the arts--but in other respects we are still an "adolescent species. "It’s our social systems that are lagging behind," Alstad said. "The knowledge we need now is relational knowledge, including relations between nations, races, generations, sexes, classes, and to the environment."

It should be obvious by now that one of my favorite journalistic tricks is springing "gotchas" on interviewees. A gotcha is a moment when I point out a potentially devastating contradiction in my interviewee’s worldview. The point of a gotcha is to provoke a strong response from the interviewee, but not so strong that he or she storms out of the room or physically assaults me.

The gotcha I had prepared for Alstad and Kramer was that these two critics of guruhood came together in the context of what could be described as a guru-student relationship.

I decided that in my interview with Alstad and Kramer I should disguise my gotcha slightly, to soften its impact. As tactfully as I could, I asked Alstad how she would react now if she heard that a friend was quitting a prestigious university job to follow a spiritual teacher, as she had done when she left Duke and became involved with Kramer. In other words, how can you tell if a student-teacher relationship is healthy or not?

Alstad bristled. "I didn’t leave my job to be with him," she said. "I left my job because I didn’t like my field, and his methodology gave me the courage and the clarity to see what wasn’t working for me and to follow my interests." She added that "it’s trivializing to imply that I was following a guru." No one would raise such a criticism if she had moved from Duke to another university after becoming enamoured with the teachings of a professor there.

I hope you’re not offended, I said. "Not at all," Alstad replied, shaking her head. "I’m glad you ask these questions so I get to answer them."

Kramer granted that I was raising an interesting issue. "What are the standards you use to judge the appropriateness of an experience or action or movement? You may not like my answer. I don’t think there are any absolute standards, when you get right down to it."

"I knew in my guts what I was doing was right," Alstad said firmly.

"But some people know in their guts that what they’re doing is right, and then twenty years later they say, ‘What a fool I was,’" Kramer replied. "So basically you can’t use, ‘I knew in my guts’ as an absolute standard."

Alstad retorted that she had never felt a moment’s regret about leaving academia; in fact, she had been exhilarated. The same was true of her involvement with Kramer, who had never displayed the authoritarian tendencies that she found so disturbing in other teachers.

Later Alstad pulled a gotcha on me. She complained that my book The End of Science exalted the quest for truth as the most meaningful of all human activities. She suspected that I saw spirituality in the same way.

Maybe it is time to abandon this concept of the "heroic journey" toward truth—whether scientific or mystical--as the end-all and be-all of life, Alstad told me sternly. To her, discovering ultimate truth—whatever that is--is less important than confronting the real-world problems that threaten our very survival. "We have lots of cards we haven’t played," she said. "One of them is using our brain better."

Very nice article. It makes me think I've been on the right track in not pursuing eastern religion. I've always preferred western philosophy, and not religion of any kind. Original article at:

http://www.johnhorgan.org/work18.htm

I would advise against taking John Hogan as the last word on these issues. I find it remarkable how often people comment on Religion as a whole who are almost entirely unqualified to do so, and I believe Hogan is one of these. It is only the shallowness of his investigation of Eastern religions that allows him to criticise them so nonchalantly, and thereby to give comfort to people like Rick, who take his arguments as confirmation that they do the right thing in not following 'eastern religion' (as though they can all be summarily lumped together!).

(I don't mean to suggest, Rick, that you're wrong not to follow 'eastern religion' - I wouldn't try to convert you. I just want to point out that Hogan doesn't seem to me like a sensible authority on these things, so one should not rest too easily on his arguments.)

For immediate example:



This paragraph contains errors. For nitpicky starters, there are three schools of Indian philosophy on the matter of "that art thou", all of whose interpretations of the phrase differ enormously. Hogan does not see fit to mention this complication. The ommission may seem trifling to non-cognoscenti of Hinduism, and admittedly it doesn't make a big difference to Hogan's argument, but it is an error that's obvious to anyone who's studied Hinduism even lightly, and as such it illustrates the lightness with which Hogan actually treats the subject matter he purports to analyse. It shows him up as one of the non-cognoscenti.

I would be surprised if you fell for the fallacy in this paragraph. To say that the 'ancient experiment' of Hinduism has failed because people are still selfish 3000 years after its inception is to miss the point completely. The religion did not set out to change the world; it set out to change the individual, and many of the individuals were profoundly changed.

Secondly:



This is incorrect in many ways. The concept of oneness has no hidden duality, and such "ideologies" (what a loaded term!) do not "denigrate" individuality at all. Yes, the idea of separate individuals is ultimately illusory (how else could they interact?) but individuality is not denigrated thereby. Conventional duality is what makes ultimate nonduality tenable.

Moreover, self-interest is not 'sinful', nor the source of suffering and evil. (To bring 'evil' and 'sin' into the equation is to muddy the discussion of eastern philosophy with western ideas. Eastern religions admit of no evil (only nonvirtue) and no sin (ditto).) The sources of suffering are (a) ignorance as to the true nature of reality, ( craving and © aversion, not mere self-interest as Hogan irresponsibly suggests.

Hogan's conclusion is sufficiently innocuous; that we might be better off to abandon a quest for truth (whether scientific or religious, he states, and we note the parting peace treaty) and to concentrate on problems threatening our survival. This tentative proposition assertion is quite acceptable, and the ham-fisted and superficial bashing of eastern religion that precedes it is completely unneccessary for its proposition.

Following Rick's link, I had a look at some of his other articles, where he has made some even more serious errors. This from http://www.johnhorgan.org/work11.htm...



The mistakes here are as follows:

Hogan suggests that Buddhist reincarnation holds that our souls are reinstantiated in new bodies. In fact, Buddhism explicitly denies the idea of a soul.

Hogan calls karma "the law of moral cause and effect." In fact, contrary to popular and mistaken belief, the theory of karma is only peripherally concerned with morality. "Karma" means "action", and the theory's core assertion is merely the empirical observation that actions have consequences - that effect follows cause. From this it follows that our actions are not free of consequences. From this it is suggested that virtuous actions lead to virtuous consequences, and unvirtuous actions lead to unvirtuous consequences. This is not moralising - it is as close to strict empirical philosophy as one can get.

I'll leave it at that...

So much for Horgan, who is the reporter of that article. What about Alstad and Kramer?

I wonder if Joesus read this

I skimmed through it.
I think the value of any idea is in the personal experience.
Anything can be scrutinized, but what state of mind is the person who is being critical?

When I teach others the machanics of meditation I always begin with the idea that you don't need to believe anything that is said by myself or anyone else. There is no innocense involved if you want to assume someone has the authority to make your decisions for you and to feel for you.
Each person has the ability to try anything for themselves and form their own opinion with the stipulation that if you can become aware that you have your own ability to decide you must also recognize that the same applies to everyone else.
One can easily become invested in assuming one way is the only way for everyone and that way is what works for that person.

Spirituality has its roots in the science of union or Yoga as it is referred to in Eastern circles but the essence behind east and west is the same God/infinite one/universal presence etc. etc.
To say any one approach is better is like saying hamburgers are better than spaghetti. Religions are born of the same mysteries and realities that give birth to science and philosophy. How you approach the center of your being or the universe is strictly up to you and what is relevant to you is relevant to your interests in life.

Most people just want to know they are OK and want to believe they are making the best choices for themselves without the thought of having failed in their lives. If they need to fabricate a set of beliefs and rules to live by to give them some peace then they demonstrate their own weakness in themselves and their self worth.
I knew someone who I believe was a genuine sage, he took nothing for himself and gave his life and his last breath in service to anyone who might extend themselves beyond the need to create false idols and illusory beliefs to justify their lives.

There is a difference when someone makes a statement to their stability and it resonates throughout humanity and one who makes a statement because they want you to believe it.

There are Gurus who are charlatans and there are genuine saints in the world who affect humanity in such a way they inspire greatness and compassion in those around them.

Any system of thought is subject to perception. The greatest teachers can only take someone so far by offering knowlede, wisdom and experience, and the student must from their own desire take what they are given and make something of themselves and turn information into experience.
Not everyone resonates with the truth at the same level.

Religion is like a music, it's born of inspiration and what it comes out sounding like is going to be colored by perception, it may sound like mozart or even punk rap. If one can go beyond the individuality in taste and perception to expand their awareness to the level of the inspiration then the ripples on the surface become insignificant and the blowhards who want to rant about what they like and don't like become chatter on the surface of something greater. Then what stands out is a greater truth and the relevance of fighting for position thru opinion a chimera.

Was hoping to see a reply from you. Wasn't disappointed.

I agree. I started this post out to say a whole lot more about the faulty reasoning that I saw in the article but then I realized that I really didn't want to bring myself into that state of mind and that if people do well by believing that then that is good for them. I also thought the article had some very good points and that if nothing else it pointed out the possibility for abuses from supposedly enlightened individuals. But basically, I just wanted to say thanks for a great reply.

One thing: what if we approach practical real world problems from a vantage point that we derive from mystical experiences and a "religious" or "spirtual" worldview? That is my current position. I think that's a a false dichotomy if I ever saw one.... religion and practicality. Or religion and real world. Whatever way you look at it. I feel better able to help others and attempt to solve worldly problems with the view of reality that I have in place which is very much based in certain Eastern philosophies (well, actually personal experience, but it reflects certain Eastern philosophies).

Joesus, what are your thoughts on Andrew Cohen? I read a book called "Enlightenment Blues" recently that was very critical of him, written by someone who spent 11 years of their life under his mentorship.

I think everyone has something to contribute in the way we see the world. You resonate with what has been your experience and since you are on a road that is personally paved with your own ideas you will take what you will and discard the rest.
If you are objective enough to keep things in perspective you can appreciate the individual perspective without being sucked into it. Meaning you can unite them all in a neutral place allowing for personal perspectives and see something greater, which is the desire to know the Truth.

I think that it's easy to fall into the trap of personal stresses that include pushing away that which is seen as evil and trying to grasp onto that which is seen as righteous, but it is always fear that keeps the mind from being objective and turns it towards the subjective beliefs of reality.

I know from my own personal experience of having studied in and amongst other people that the Teacher can say anything, and with a room full of personalites what has been said can be hacked into a myriad of different ideas.
One person can experience praise and gratitude while another whos ego is being threatened experience the devil himself.
I've heard and read some Truth coming from Cohen's works but I personally haven't spent any time with him. Being on the road to my own discovery I have never been drawn to him but in my own way have had experiences that I can relate to when someone speaks of their experiences with someone else.
Knowing that anything can be distorted I choose to remain objective about most things so that I can allow reality to be diverse in the sense that I don't own it and project my experience on others.
If I get caught up in it and decide I know something that everyone should know then I separate God/the manifest into good and evil according to my experience.
Since my experiences are constantly changing and if I'm being aware of my changing experience it would sound like I'm trying to convince myself that something is real. First its blue, then its green, then its...

If I stay open I hear more than just one thing and I expand more easily if I'm allowing myself to flow rather than to grasp onto a feeling or something I hear from someone else. If I'm genuinely interested I may seek my own experience on a subject rather than chalk up reality to something I read or hear from another.
Makes sense don't you think? To keep an open mind and not nail your foot down to the floor in any moment and spin in a circle.

I'd say if you are interested in Cohen find your own experience, otherwise keep moving forward and Everyone draw to them the things they need to experience and most are smart enough to make their own decisions. Those that can't need something to inspire them to learn.