The material is in there, but to grasp the scope of it, many people would have to have either some prior misconceptions that could be adjusted, or a burning curiosity about it all, to absorb the descriptions. Processean philosophy starts from certain assumptions that any former member tends to take for granted, and backtracking from that perhaps seemed too condescending to readers. But clearly some people have found the basics hard to comprehend.

The commonest question of all, though, is: Why does anyone join a cult?

I have to admit to extreme naivete here. I’ve always assumed that at some stage, everybody has burning curiosity about the big questions of life and death, life’s meaning, the existence of God and the possibility of actual answers to these things. After all, the born-again Christian movement appears to be thriving on this hunger. I’ve always lived among friends for whom such things are second-nature.

But the reality seems to be that for many people, it’s a given that the answers don’t, and can’t, exist. Ipso facto, from such a perspective, anybody joining something that appears to offer the answers is on a wrong track. And the fact the questor might leave his or her particular sect or community months or years later admitting they had a strange, disconcerting ride seems to confirm this to the doubters.

Such a step doesn’t necessitate leaving everyday life behind, of course. There are plenty of things that require less of a radical departure from all aspects of everyday life. But the really transforming ones often call for some degree of retreat from the hurly-burly.

Ideally, it’s better if we do it when we’re young, and have time to correct any damage we undergo. But non-mainstream spiritual movements appeal in different ways to different people at different stages of life, and the mature seeker is not that rare a creature.

The key point to be made in answer to “Why join a cult?” is simple: nobody ever did so. People are drawn into different groups because of the atmosphere the members generate. It isn’t a con when you’re preaching something you believe in, and true believers in any movement can very convincing. They will hold what seem to be internally consistent ideas, and exhibit an enthusiasm for the transforming effect of the group and its teachings. Strict intellectual consistency is often the least concern; the passion and excitement of membership are what produces the changes in outlook and the broadening of understanding. Though family and friends may see the new recruit undergoing a narrowing, the experience of that person is probably utterly different, as it opens up vistas of meaning that can be hard to verbalise, yet which offer immense potential.

This holds true for Pentecostalism, Mormonism, Sufism, Scientology, UFO contact faiths, et al. While there is a sense of personal growth present, there is no ‘cult.’ And that could well be the case for many years – decades, even.

Where the problem lies is in the deflation stage. If nobody ever joined a cult, any number of people have had problems in leaving one. Membership in a non-mainstream faith has its ups and downs, but if things reach a point where the earlier promises seem inescapably cheap or fake in the light of what actually happens, then the cult experience begins. The nourishing womb has no more carrots to offer when the prophet or guru can provide no more tricks to stun the ego of his or her followers. There is only the stick, the goad of being left behind, of not finding eternal salvation, or never removing the psychological blocks to happiness.

Anti-cult campaigners, who often shill for their own religions or philosophies more shamelessly than the groups they oppose, point to this stage as the real evil to be exposed. Yet even here, I would argue, the crisis over leaving can be a very creative one, despite how it seems at the time. The member is facing the same issues that were so troubling before the decision to join, but now without the support of a community of like believers. Instead, there’s only a sullen silence from one’s former circle, and the prospect of having to re-create an identity in “the world.” That phase, I can attest, is a difficult one; the big existential questions don’t go away, they recur throughout life, and at this point they don’t yield any simple answers.

And this is why I find myself puzzled or even indignant that anyone would question the notion of seeking outside the mainstream of ideas. If life is given meaning by personal growth and greater compassion for other humans, then a struggle towards selfhood is no wasted effort. The road any one person needs to take is just that: the route that individual needs to follow, regardless of what other people assume “is good for” the person.

Granted, there are groups that are merciless towards backsliders and apostates, especially if the renegades go public with their criticisms. One sure sign that a group is truly a cult in the pejorative sense is in the number of lawyers and “spokesmen” it employs. Most spiritual communities, especially those that don’t charge hundreds of dollar per hour for therapy or counselling, don’t have any of that. They might shun the former member, which can be very hurtful, but they don’t sue, or make anonymous phone-calls to the police or to employers.

Any spiritual teacher, from realised mystics through to dysfunctional charlatans, will explain that there’s no straight track to heaven. (I might have to exclude Scientology here, but I suspect even that movement confides as much to its inner circles). If the leader of the group is deluded, then he or she is the ultimate victim of the ideology, since everybody is looking to the leader for the Next Step to Enlightenment. A leader’s self-doubt could bring down the whole organisation and its revenue stream. Anyone else can leave, but the Boss is stuck till the end, without an exit plan.

The key point with anything like The Process or the hundreds of other such groups that emerged in the past half-century isn’t, then, the ideology, but the assessment that comes after. This can be painful, and will probably need revisiting more than once. But to quote Socrates yet one more time, the unexamined life isn’t worth living. Many people who were burned by the cults they joined are actually wiser and kinder as a result.

Which is perhaps the best answer to offer when the question “Why do this?” is asked. Spiritual enquiry is supposed to tell us the What in response to the big questions. In reality, it is going to show us How such issues should be approached. The questions themselves never go away; they only re-emerge in new forms, and having a means to address them is the most important gift we can gain from our asking.