Cultish by Amanda Montell

What makes “cults” so intriguing and frightening? What makes them powerful? The reason why so many of us binge Manson documentaries by the dozen and fall down rabbit holes researching suburban moms gone QAnon is because we’re looking for a satisfying explanation for what causes people to join—and more importantly, stay in—extreme groups. We secretly want to know: could it happen to me? Amanda Montell’s argument is that, on some level, it already has . . .

Our culture tends to provide pretty flimsy answers to questions of cult influence, mostly having to do with vague talk of “brainwashing.” But the true answer has nothing to do with freaky mind-control wizardry or Kool-Aid. In Cultish, Montell argues that the key to manufacturing intense ideology, community, and us/them attitudes all comes down to language. In both positive ways and shadowy ones, cultish language is something we hear—and are influenced by—every single day.

Through juicy storytelling and cutting original research, Montell exposes the verbal elements that make a wide spectrum of communities “cultish,” revealing how they affect followers of groups as notorious as Heaven’s Gate, but also how they pervade our modern start-ups, Peloton leaderboards, and Instagram feeds. Incisive and darkly funny, this enrapturing take on the curious social science of power and belief will make you hear the fanatical language of “cultish” everywhere.

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Why I Picked It Up

I think of this book frequently, likely because I know that I love cultish things. In fiction, there's a trope—or descriptor, I guess—that literary agents will sometimes request on their Manuscript Wishlist (basically a publicized list of what they would especially love to see in their inbox) called "closed communities."

It might be a college, gym, summer camp, or similar; even careers can fall into this, which is why we'll see the occasional blockbuster HBO limited series about the rise and fall of a charismatic startup. We layer cultish language over everything.

But I'd be lying if I said I bought this book for any reason other than the (gorgeous) cover.

About the Book

By now, Cultish is a few years old. Amanda Montell, the writer, has enjoyed impressive success in her linguistic scholarship and podcast. She embodies a "high-low" look at curiosities that I adore and champion, breaking down psychological concepts or academic work through the lens of modern symbols that might make the content resonate more with the average reader.

For example, I read The Age of Magical Overthinking and adored its look at unconscious influences and biases (one of my favorite topics to mull over in the age-old question of "Can I trust my own perception?") I owe that a review as well, but figured Cultish has come up for me so often lately that I had to lay the groundwork.

Essentially, Montell will tackle the halo effect through Taylor Swift, or nostalgia porn through Gen Z's regurgitation of 90's trends on Urban Outfitters. It's accessible, warm, and she veers personal without getting too in the weeds. Some who read psychology and neuro and all regardless (like me) might feel like they want to follow her book up with a bonafide tome to dig into the studies, but her books feel breezy and interesting without veering flat or simplistic. Instead, she offers a portal into these questions and topics for those who might not otherwise go down the rabbit hole—and for that reason, I love her niche.

The Language of Fanaticism (& Various Research)

One of my favorite researchers is Dr. Jennifer Lynn Barnes, a young adult author who studies the psychology of fiction and fandom. This is similar, paired alongside reads like Tali Sharot's The Influential Mind, which points out that we get a hit of dopamine whenever we share our opinions on the Internet.

Amanda Montell's research underlines all of those fields—digital minimalism, community building and "finding your village," modern loneliness, algorithms etc,.—thanks to its mix of pop culture reflection and genuine scholarship. Part of my interest in neuroaesthetics means always wondering why we attach to art or media or each other via our taste for absolutely anything, and Cultish interrogates that through the lens of how we form in-groups, out-groups, and fascinations.

As I've said before, Adam Alter is one of my favorite nonfiction writers, and he mentions frequently this concept about how one of the most effective ways to change yourself behaviorally is to take on an identifier.

Ex: if I want to get back into dancing again, it's better to think of myself as a "dancer who hasn't taken class in a while" rather than "someone who dances." Because I will adopt the traits of dancer unconsciously and habitually, and I have. Titling yourself can be so powerful, and my personality changes slightly depending on whether I think of myself as an author or journalist or depending on which in-groups and outgroups I'm delving into or out of. The introduction of a label always means a divide between those with the label and those without.

Montell talks about this mostly within a group setting, and what happens when you join a group specifically. One of her chapters talks specifically about CrossFit. A gym isn't a gym, but a "box." The "WOD" or "workout of the day" carries a specific connotation that makes members feel more unified. (Through a purely fitness-focused lens, it's no wonder that studio memberships like the Tracey Anderson Method in New York, or Peloton blowing up in 2020, gather such devoted followings. What's "marketing" vs. cultish really isn't so different.)

Anyway, my college was cultish. My summer camp was too—and Ira Glass has a fascinating episode of This American Life talking about that same social, cohesive glue that all camps rely on: tradition and circularity. I know from my own habits (and my decision to start doing therapy regularly for some good ol' mental maintenance) that I do well in cycles and ritual, and this book pinpoints a lot of the why.

When you can externalize your intensity to a greater purpose, when belonging to something strengthens your individual resolve, etc,. etc,. You can consider yourself the most solitary person in the world, but your broader labeling and linguistic habits of categorization bleed into how you see and conduct yourself too.

And then there's the contained euphoria within cultish cycles and ritual. Even Grit by Angela Duckworth points out that the "grittiest" and most sustained goals are those that we genuinely believe make a difference in the service of others, so cultish activities are those that oil those joints, so to speak.

There's a lot of overlap between "cultish" activities and those tenets of mastery, flow, and layered reflection that color the systems that run my own life—this precise balance between control and surrender that's so defined the themes of my year and late 20's. When I'm reading nonfiction in this vein, those concepts tend to run through each read.

Voice & Tone

As mentioned, the book itself feels light and engrossing, despite being well-researched. Montell isn't afraid to veer into her own commentary or vivid little snippets of relevancy from her own life, which is a quality I appreciate from social histories like Labor of Love by Moira Weigel.

The chapters feel short, and the conversation doth intrigue. Nearly every tenet will be familiar to you, whether you have a friend who swears by eight a.m. pilates (and the accompanying matcha, matching activewear, etc,.) or someone sliding in your DMs to tell you about a seriously great business opportunity!!

Considering the gravity of the cult attachment, Montell appropriately designates what of a cult is harmful and worth treating with the appropriate nuance and sensitivity, versus what cultish activities are rather "buzzy" and simply using the same cohesion technologies. I.e. you can read this book and not worry that you're disregarding the trauma of those individuals who have been victimized by genuine movements, leaders, and devastations.

She has some stunning lines that will resonate relatively universally—and it does feel like a pretty universal book in that sense, leaning on this sense of participation in labels and communities and whatnot. Awareness of collective identity matters.

“The haunting, beautiful, stomach-twisting truth is that no matter how cult-phobic you fancy yourself, our participation in things is what defines us.”

She talks about pithy mottos and idioms and metaphor—a subject especially that's fascinated me, as I've read plenty of Aeonarticles dissecting metaphor and how it influences thought—and veers linguistically into the realm of thinkers like David Foster Wallace, who 100 percent gave me an existential crisis about language fundamentally lacking the clarity meant to bridge me to any other person. She also talks about the placebo effect, which I absolutely love to think about.

Overall Thoughts

There are plenty of thoughtful lines in here, like how cults know that having big dreams makes one vulnerable (Amen, I say), and exploit that to their benefit. If you've ever thought about the slippery slope between certain representations online and their resulting conspiracy theorist-esque models of thought—like following cottagecore all the way down to tradwife down to red-pilled male podcasts and the defunding of the FDA, for example—you'll appreciate how deftly she navigates what is language and what is us. Harmless vs. harmful?

There's a lot to springboard off of in Cultish, which is partly why this review has turned into such a hodgepodge of references. It's bubbly enough and sprawling enough that I actually think it would make a fantastic book club pick for a group of young adult women looking to have an ever-so-slightly deeper convo excuse over glasses of pinot. Very much something you can...follow all the way down, or appreciate as a several-hours-long inhale on the beach or something. (And no, I'm not just saying beach read because it's pink and written by a woman; I just mean that its accessibility and *FUN* packaging is its strength—because it actually breaks through.)

I personally will buy whatever Montell writes next and appreciate the book as a balance and a primer. Even when similar to other books I've read—as in The Age of Magical Overthinking—I always find value in her connections and relatability. Her understanding of the modern landscape make her writing feel in-tune and refreshing: very much a depiction of the current year without feeling like a flash in the pan either.

PS. This book made me go out and join a CrossFit gym. I wasn't everyday or anything, but I did register how much I'd love the structure and attended for roughly a year before moving away. Now, I also do enjoy Peloton workouts, and have recently on-island joined another gym with a reputation for "cultish" memberships.

Plus, I absolutely cannot shut up about the roles of ritual, repetition, community, belonging, etc,. in regards to my summer camp book, and what happens to us as individuals when collective identity seeps into how we see ourselves as self-reliant.

For fans of:

Labor of Love by Moira Wengel; Bachelor Nation by Amy Kaufman; The Confidence Game by Maria Konnikova; Consider the Lobster by David Foster Wallace; Why We Swim by Bonnie Tsui; Grit by Angela Duckworth; Hype by Gabrielle Bluestone; etc,.