Blogs About All Things Cultish And Coercive Control

You thought leaving would bring relief. More freedom. More space to breathe. Maybe even a sense of peace. Instead… there’s guilt. A constant, nagging, heavy feeling that you’ve done something wrong — even if you can’t logically explain why. If this is you, you’re not broken. And you’re definitely not alone. What you’re feeling makes sense when we understand how high-control or fear-based religious environments shape the brain, the nervous system, and your sense of self. L

Traditional news outlets are not perfect. They are influenced by commercial pressures, political access, time constraints, and sometimes genuine blind spots. Mistakes happen. Framing choices matter. And historically, there have been moments where media institutions failed the public. But recognising those failures is not the same as abandoning all standards of evidence.

In the days following the Bondi Beach attack, the internet became a mirror for both the best and worst of human behaviour. On one hand, there were stories of bravery, solidarity, and genuine mourning. On the other, a predictable — and deeply troubling — pattern reasserted itself: fake influencers, rumour-mongers and online opportunists flooding angry and grieving spaces with misinformation.

In the aftermath of the Bondi attack, Australia has been sitting in shock. Grief like this doesn’t move in a straight line. It fractures. It disorients. It overwhelms our sense of safety and order. And in that psychological chaos, people reach for explanations that make the world feel less frightening — even if those explanations aren’t true.

High-control groups and conspiracy ecosystems are often discussed as separate phenomena. One is framed as cultic or extremist. The other as political, cultural, or “just opinions.” But when you look closely, they frequently rely on the same psychological architecture. That doesn’t mean everyone who believes a conspiracy theory is in a cult. It means that similar methods of influence can produce similar outcomes — especially under conditions of fear, uncertainty, and grief.

Survivors repeatedly describe how these groups initially present as welcoming, supportive, or even beneficial. They speak about positive experiences that drew them in—friendly peers, shared interests, or community support. What distinguishes high-control groups is what happens next: the coercion escalates. Gradually, members experience manipulation, pressure to conform, isolation from family, and exploitation.

If any group objects to the Victorian Inquiry into cults and fringe groups by crying “freedom of religion,” I’d honestly bet money that whoever is saying it is either a cult leader or a member of a high-control group.

This is where a third — and newer — narrative enters: the coercive control model. It doesn’t care what people believe. It cares how those beliefs are used. This model grew out of feminist and trauma psychology movements — women naming the invisible patterns of domination inside their own homes. Later, those insights were applied to workplaces, extremist movements, trafficking, and, yes, cults.

Recently, The Catholic Weekly published an article claiming that the Victorian Inquiry into Cult Recruitment might threaten religious freedom. Their framing of issues immediately raised red flags — because when someone starts arguing about definitions instead of behaviours, it’s usually a sign they’re trying to divert attention from accountability.

When practiced safely and voluntarily, fasting can indeed offer spiritual and even physical benefits. Short-term fasting can improve insulin sensitivity, support cellular repair processes, and heighten self-awareness. Many people find it brings calm, focus, and a deeper connection to their values. But context is everything. When fasting is done freely, it’s a spiritual or health practice. When it’s used as leverage, it becomes psychological warfare.

The NSW Government’s is in the process of reviewing it's Anti-Discrimination Act 1977. It's a well overdue spring cleaning of half century old legislation that is as out of date as wearing floral printed flairs. For decades, Australia’s legal framework has protected recognised religions from discrimination—but in doing so, it has left glaring loopholes that allow high-control groups (cults), to weaponise “freedom of religion” as a shield for abusive behaviour.

When faith becomes fuel for domination, and how to reclaim it from the jaws of extremism In the fairy tale of Little Red Riding Hood, the...

When Noble Values turn into Cultic Control PART 3 OF 4 Every tree is known by its own fruit. – Luke 6:44 Judaism, Christianity, and...

Is Creeping into Australian What Does Freedom Mean Inside and Outside a Cult?Politics PART 2 OF 4 In my last blog , I explored how...

From ISIS to Christian nationalists to hardline Israeli settlers, extremist movements across the three Abrahamic faiths share something disturbingly familiar: A belief that they alone are chosen by God, and that this divine status grants them the right—sometimes even the duty—to dominate others. This isn’t just religious conviction. It’s totalistic thinking, weaponised. And when you peel back the sacred vocabulary, what’s left looks an awful lot like a cult. The Core Claim: “

Several ago, my son—then 15—and I went to an art exhibition at a small community centre on the outskirts of Brisbane. It was a chilly...

Under the guise of humility and accountability, authoritarian religious groups have long used forced confession and public shaming to instil fear, monitor loyalty, and condition obedience. Far from creating “safe spaces for truth,” these rituals become highly effective tools for domination—dressed up as righteousness.

In truth, what cults call freedom is just a carefully rebranded system of its own—with its own hierarchies, unspoken rules, and consequences for disobedience. You’re not escaping control; you’re trading one structure for another. Only this new one doesn’t come with legal protections, social safety nets, or the option to question authority without punishment. It’s not freedom from the system—it’s just entry into a new one, cloaked in spiritual language and enforced through emo

If you’ve ever come out of a relationship with a narcissist — whether a parent, partner, boss, or cult leader — you may find yourself...

When people see my cult ranking system, they sometimes assume it’s a trauma scale. It’s not. My rubric doesn’t measure the emotional pain a group causes—though many do cause immense suffering. Instead, it measures coercive control: the tactics groups use to limit a person’s agency, autonomy, and freedom.