The next article I stumble upon features a less-than-flattering take on the whole debacle.
LOS ANGELES – Self-help guru turned cult leader Tom Wolsieffer is facing a standoff with the Federal Bureau of Investigation this morning. Following the murder of a local rancher and the wounding of his spokesperson, Birdie Hauer, Wolsieffer is tasked with answering for the crimes committed at the border of the ranch that he owns in Kenton, Oklahoma.
UCLA Psychologist Mia Hitchcock weighed in: “Tom Wolsieffer has built something out there. It’s not a fanbase anymore; it’s a following.” Hitchcock goes on to talk about the dangers of such devout followings. “It dangerous when you get an individual who has absolute power over a group of vulnerable people. The people who have chosen to follow Wolsieffer’s book are people that are looking for an end to their pain. It puts them in a very precarious position.”
Dr. Hitchcock has been one of Wolsieffer’s most vocal critics since the publication of his self-help hit, The Way. Tenets such as the Policy of Disconnection, which encourages the elimination of close personal relationships in order to avoid grief later in life, have garnered heat from critics.
“Not only is it psychologically unsound, it’s the perfect recipe for creating a cult,” Hitchcock says. “You take these people and strip them of their most intimate relationships. It’s human nature to seek out a replacement for that. We aren’t wired to be solitary creatures. So, the next best thing for these people is going to be whatever Tom Wolsieffer provides for them.”
KPWTV has reached out to Dr. Tom Wolsieffer but has been unable to get any comment.
I haven’t looked further than this into the policies outlined in Tom’s book. I task myself with that now, searching for a simple outline of what The Way has to offer. I go to the Wikipedia page.
Unmarred by any recent additions poking fun at Tom’s current situation, the information seems to be reliable if somewhat shocking. Seven tenets make up the outline for the book:
Disengagement
Separation
Disconnection
Independence
Seeking
Community
Enlightenment
In the first step of the process, Tom encourages readers to distance themselves emotionally from things happening around them. This includes the things that cause them stress. Things that might otherwise be argued to be important, like jobs. He suggests a modified stoic approach.
In step two, he advises his followers to separate themselves from their material possessions. To anyone watching, it would look like a sure sign of suicidality. Three goes on to encourage the final and most important piece of disengagement, which is disconnection. This means unplugging from the most important relationships in your life. The ones that have been with you all your life. Tom’s theory is that if you can cut that tie now, grief will wash over you in a neutered version. Yes, it will be painful. But not as painful as it would be if you foolishly invested yourself fully into those relationships.
With independence, Tom encourages a relocation. Convenient, I think. Seeing as how he’s got a prime new spot for people to stake a claim in. The next step, seeking, encourages meditation and a spiritual quest. By far, it’s the least idiotic of all the tenets.
In community, Tom urges followers to find other like-minded people. Followers of The Way, if possible. Again, it reeks of a man grooming strangers for a cult.
And finally, Tom promises enlightenment. He promises a life free from pain with a peace that pervades every moment of that life.
The whole thing is ridiculous to me. The rules are no more valid than notes for a novel scribbled on a café napkin. There’s no psychological basis for any of them and they will culminate in emotional ruin for these people. And now, with what’s going on out in Kenton, perhaps even death.
And among those people is Birdie.
No updates had been released by officials as to her condition. Not that they would know much since the closest they’d gotten before weapons had been drawn by those inside the compound was the cattle guard.
I think of my friend and her gap-toothed smile. The way I’d been so enchanted by her when we met comes over me. And I remember something else: a promise.
I’ll always come back for you, Birdie.
IONE
7 YEARS AGO
It was early October when I went to Dr. Wolsieffer’s office for the first time. A piece I’d been working on hadn’t gelled in the way I’d thought it would. I wanted to ask his opinion on a few of the pages in private, without the pissing contest that occurred during class. Part of me was a little bit afraid of him, the other part painfully aware of how handsome he was.
He was like a wolf. Beautiful but dangerous.
I knocked lightly on his door once inside the offices of the writing department. Most of the professors had gone home. Unofficially, Dr. Wolsieffer kept hours late in the evening. I planned on taking advantage of the fact that everyone had scurried out of class that Thursday evening, Birdie included, eager to get a head start on the weekend and make campus corner crawl with the life of an anthill.
I waited only a moment before the door swung open to reveal an office in disarray. I’d stumbled on Dr. Wolsieffer in the midst of a rearrangement of his vast library. He smiled, though, like he’d been waiting for me to arrive. There wasn’t a hint of annoyance or irritation that he was going to have to deal with yet another student’s questions. I returned his smile.
“Miss Larsen,” he greeted me. “Come in.”
He stepped aside and I tip toed around the stacks of books, looking for a perch.
“Have a seat. Here,” he moved quickly and bent down and moved a stack of books directly in front of one of the two chairs that sat opposite his desk. Another pile occupied the seat and he moved those, too. He cleared a small path for me, and I took my seat, only
