In the Big Book parts of AA, speakers sometimes ‘myth-bust’ certain ideas in AA, with reference to the Big Book, e.g. notions of ‘meeting-makers make it’, ‘don’t drink no matter what’, etc. Whilst the myth-busting successfully knocks down the false idea and replaces it with a better one, it often fails to recognise what indeed is true in the myth. For instance, meeting-makers are much more likely than non-meeting-makers to hear about the Steps and develop the willingness to take them and are much more likely than non-meeting-makers to receive the grace to not drink until they do develop such willingness, although, of course, merely making meetings will not, itself, treat the alcoholism. Similarly, staying sober for ever will depend on developing a relationship with God, and merely attempting not to drink will fail, although in the short term there will definitely need to be some gritting of the teeth, grinning and bearing it, and simply getting through the day even when I cannot see a future.
Now, the Big Book parts of AA are also replete with myths. I’m
going to address some of these, with reference to the Big Book and Twelve Steps
and Twelve Traditions (which has a secondary status, sometimes supporting the
Big Book and sometimes contradicting it). I should note that, on many of the
matters below, I have previously thought differently, and I may well change my
tune again. They are merely a snapshot of how things presently appear to me,
and I may be wrong. I have nonetheless endeavoured to take each of the Big Book
or Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions ideas under discussion in their full
context of the AA literature and AA experience in general. The errors
identified stem typically from taking meeting folklore over the literature,
taking Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions over the Big Book, or taking a line
out of context. The list below is not exhaustive.
1. Alcoholism is a three-fold illness
The Big Book (page 64) does suggest we have a spiritual
malady, but the Big Book also suggests that this is universal: the people who
wrong us are spiritually sick, too, and pages 60 to 62 suggest that all sorts
of people are selfish and self-centred. The Big Book (page 44) suggests two
elements of alcoholism, not three, and this is reiterated in the Twelve and
Twelve (the double-edge sword of page 22). The spiritual malady does need to be
dealt with, but it’s the obstacle to the solution to the two-fold condition of
alcoholism rather than an innate component of alcoholism itself.
2. Alcoholics drink because they like the effect
This stems from “Men and women drink essentially because
they like the effect produced by alcohol.” The subject of this idea is men and
women, not alcoholics. ‘Because’ introduces an explanation. In normal people,
the nice effect explains the drinking because the normal person has agency;
they discern a motivation, then act on it. Alcoholics will certainly have
enjoyed the effect at the beginning, but we’re not interested in that; we’re
interested in why, when the effect became injurious they continue. The answer:
alcoholics drink because of compulsion not desire. We have no agency. We are
not in charge. The impulse to drink is in charge, regardless of whether we like
the effect. When I stopped liking the effect I did not stop drinking. The
motivation of a passenger does not explain the actions of the driver, when the
driver is not consulting the passenger. Alcoholism turns out to have been
compelling me the whole time. Alcoholics drink the first drink because we are
compelled by the so-called mental obsession and we drink the rest of them
because we are compelled by the so-called physical carving. Desire, motivation,
upstream causes, downstream reasons have nothing to do with it. Mechanical
compulsion pure and simple.
3. Alcoholics drink because they are restless, irritable, and discontented
“They are restless, irritable and discontented, unless they
can again experience the sense of ease and comfort which comes at once by
taking a few drinks—drinks which they see others taking with impunity.”
Restless, irritable, and discontented describes a state that might precede the
first drink, but in the Certain American Businessman (page 26), the Man of Thirty
(page 30), Jim (page 35), and Fred (page 39), there is no such condition, yet
they drink. Bill W (page 15 and page 154) is in a rotten condition yet does not
drink. If this condition were causal, it would have to be present prior to a
drink, and it would necessarily bring about a drink, and its absence would
indicate safety from drinking. None of these is the case. Bill is these things
yet stays sober. The others are not these things yet drink. What could this
mean? In my experience, ‘restless, irritable, and discontented’ describes the
condition generated by attempting to resist the impulse to drink. This is a
peripheral phenomenon occurring only in those who resist because they’re in a
phase of trying to give up drinking but without the grace of God. This is
precisely the cohort encountered by Dr Silkworth, hence his description. The
impulse is the cause and will have its way. As indicated by Bill’s condition on
page 15 and Fred’s condition on page 41, general or specific unhappiness is not
a precursor to drinking and general or specific happiness does not indicate
safety from drinking.
4. Untreated alcoholism is the same as the spiritual malady
The spiritual malady is introduced on page 64 of the Big
Book as a function of resentment, and the bad behaviour of others is described
as stemming from sickness on page 67. Selfishness and self-centredness are
presented on pages 60 to 62 as a system that produces conflict and unhappiness,
and this is described as playing God. I think we can safely say that all of
this can be summarised under the heading ‘spiritual malady’. But what is
untreated alcoholism? “I now remembered what my alcoholic friends had told me,
how they prophesied that if I had an alcoholic mind, the time and place would
come—I would drink again. They had said that though I did raise a defence, it
would one day give way before some trivial reason for having a drink. I knew
from that moment that I had an alcoholic mind. I saw that will power and
self-knowledge would not help in those strange mental blank spots.” (Page 41).
The alcoholic mind is the problem. It is the inability to resist the compulsion
to drink. It is a defencelessness, hence “His defence must come from a Higher
Power.” There is no linkage at all to the circumstances of one’s life or one’s
emotional condition. Hence the rather odd example of Fred as our poster-boy for
alcoholism: “To all appearance he is a stable, well-balanced individual. Yet,
he is alcoholic.” (Page 39) and (on the day of relapse): “Physically, I felt
fine. Neither did I have any pressing problems or worries. My business came off
well, I was pleased and knew my partners would be too. It was the end of a
perfect day, not a cloud on the horizon.” (Page 43). The book is keen to
distinguish alcoholism, pure, from the other difficulties that usually
co-occur. In fact, the Big Book suggests that our natural condition sober is
not wretchedness but normality: “We know that while the alcoholic keeps away
from drink, as he may do for months or years, he reacts much like other men.” (Page
22). Untreated alcoholism is the absence of God as defence. The spiritual
malady is a woeful moral condition. Usually cooccurring but distinct. The
spiritual malady will block the invocation of God as defence but is not,
itself, the state of defencelessness against the first drink.
5. We do not work on our character defects
This is suggested by “Humbly asked Him to remove our
shortcomings,” and speakers often say that, when they work on their defects,
the defects get worse. The truth in this is that constantly talking about my
resentment against Bobby and how it really stems from some traumatic event in
my childhood will not remove the resentment, but, as with any other Step, the
headline on page 59 or 60 really summarises a more complex state of affairs. Yes,
God removes the defects, but how: by directing me and giving me the strength to
think and act differently. If the defect is resentment, I must act by saying
the page 67 prayer and resolutely turning my thoughts to someone I can help
(page 84). Page 85 suggests: “‘How can I best serve Thee—Thy will (not mine) be
done.’ These are thoughts which must go with us constantly.” This is not
commanding the thoughts themselves or God but me, to actively think these
thoughts. I really cannot think of a character defect where it is not up to me
to take the initiative to recognise the defect, develop the willingness to have
it removed, ask God for the right thought or action (page 87), then ‘carry that
out’ (page 59). When I’m tardy, I need to leave earlier. God does not do this,
I do. When I’m mean, I need to zippy the lippy. God does not do this, I do.
When I am tempted to overspend, I need to walk past the shop and not go in. God
does not do this, I do. God gives me the direction and strength when asked, but
I must take the action. If this is not working on my defects, I don’t know what
is.
6. Unmanageability means a parlous state of affairs
“We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives
had become unmanageable.” (Page 59) “… three pertinent ideas: (a) That we were
alcoholic and could not manage our own lives.” (Page 60). Unmanageability is
presented variously as a set of bad circumstances of one’s life, the recurrence
of major problems, emotional maladjustment, incompetence, essentially the ‘human
problems’ described on page 52 as the ‘bedevilments’ (note: human, not
alcoholic problems) and their material consequences. Unmanageability does not
get mentioned before or after this point in the Book, however. If it means a
combination of incompetence and unhappiness—quite separately from drinking, in
our lives generally—and this were an integral part of Step One, then the Big
Book has failed to convey this. We might as well throw the Book away as a
shoddy piece of work. There isn’t a note of this idea in the preceding pages on
Step One, and Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions does not suggest incompetence
and unhappiness as a part of Step One. The unmanageability aspect of Step One
is dealt with thus on page 23 of Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions: “By going
back in our own drinking histories, we could show that years before we realized
it we were out of control, that our drinking even then was no mere habit, that
it was indeed the beginning of a fatal progression,” thus correcting the
misperception that it has anything to do with how intact our lives are and how
well we are doing aside from the drink question. Unmanageability addresses the
question of who is in charge: me or the impulse to drink (i.e. the alcoholism).
“[O]ur lives had become unmanageable” appears to be making a statement about
our lives, but the reiteration on page 60 (“could not manage our own lives”)
makes clear that the Step is describing an inability to manage, not the results
of mismanagement. We are unable to manage our lives, because alcoholism is
calling the shots; it is doing the managing. Unmanageability is thus not a
separate idea from powerlessness but its corollary. We have lost control of our
drinking and thus our lives.
7. The resentment inventory is part of our moral inventory
A moral inventory is a list of human failings. To resent is
clearly a human failing. But saying I am angry at Mr Brown because of his
attention to my wife and indicating that this affects my sex relations and
self-esteem spells out the anatomy of a particular resentment; it does not
expand the moral aspect at all. It does not talk about me or my immorality.
Once I have indicated I resent, there is no further moral lesson to learn.
Resentment is obviously only one of scores of character defects. So why do we
write extensively about it and why it is the number one offender? It is the
block to discovering the others. Whilst I am pointing the finger at others, I
cannot see my own faults. It is the security system that defends the rest of
them. We write to produce willingness to stop resenting, because we thus start
to see the futility and fatality of resentment, and, having got rid of the
resentment using the method on page 67, we start the real inventory with, “we
resolutely looked for our own mistakes”. The resentment inventory is the
preliminary work preparing us for the moral inventory. It is not part of it.
8. The nightly review is part of Step Ten
The nightly review on page 87 is actually part of Step
Eleven. Is it inventory? Yes, but under the heading of the prayer and
meditation of Step Eleven. You will note that the content of the Step Eleven
review is meditation (thinking about where we have gone wrong) and prayer
(asking for forgiveness and corrective measures). The danger of casting this as
Step Ten is that the real Step Ten is missed (the instructions on pages 84 and
85, which govern one’s thought life and activities all through the day). The
result of this is reeling chaotically through the day under self-propulsion
then attempting to clean up the mess nightly with the same rehashing of the
same mistakes, night after night. If Step Ten (per pages 84 and 85) is carried
out properly, most of the mistakes don’t arise, and the Step Eleven review is a
light, interesting review.
9. Step Ten is a written Step
Check out pages 84 and 85. There is no reference to pen and
paper. The Step is entirely about monitoring and correction in real time: “Continue
to watch for selfishness, dishonesty, resentment, and fear. When these crop up,
we ask God at once to remove them. We discuss them with someone immediately and
make amends quickly if we have harmed anyone. Then we resolutely turn our
thoughts to someone we can help. Love and tolerance of others is our code.”
(Page 84); “Every day is a day when we must carry the vision of God’s will into
all of our activities. ‘How can I best serve Thee—Thy will (not mine) be done.’
These are thoughts which must go with us constantly. We can exercise our will
power along this line all we wish. It is the proper use of the will.” (Page
85). The Step is largely about the mental attitude towards the activities of
the day and the constant shifting back to the job of serving God.
10. Step Eleven meditation is transcendental meditation or mindfulness
I’ve been in Step Eleven meetings with a formal meditation
where the script suggests that, to meditate, one adopts a particular position,
breathes in a particular way, ‘comes into the body’, and detaches oneself from
one’s thoughts. The actual Step Eleven instructions on pages 86 to 88, which
contain “definite and valuable suggestions” on meditation, suggest, instead,
that we think. “On awakening let us think about the twenty-four hours ahead. We
consider our plans for the day. Before we begin, we ask God to direct our
thinking, especially asking that it be divorced from self-pity, dishonest or
self-seeking motives. Under these conditions we can employ our mental faculties
with assurance, for after all God gave us brains to use. Our thought-life will
be placed on a much higher plane when our thinking is cleared of wrong motives.”
In the 1930s, meditation, in America, did not mean eastern meditation but
concentrated, deliberate thought along spiritual lines. We are not attempting
to relax the body, still the mind, detach from our lives, detach from our
thoughts, achieve enlightenment, achieve nirvana, transcend the material, or
acquire insights in the nature of reality or the universe. We are attempting to
acquire “knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out”, with
specific reference to the twenty-four ahead, in other words, “what,” literally,
“am I do to do today?” We have no opinion on eastern religions or meditation
techniques, and anyone is free to use them, but they are not Step Eleven.
11. Step One is the only step we can take perfectly
This unfortunate idea stems from the Twelve Steps and Twelve
Traditions: “Only Step One, where we made the 100 percent admission we were
powerless over alcohol, can be practiced with absolute perfection. The
remaining eleven Steps state perfect ideals. They are goals toward which we
look, and the measuring sticks by which we estimate our progress.” I do not
know what the 100 per cent admission really looks like in practice or how it
can be said to be practised with absolute perfection. My understanding of Step
One has evolved and continued to evolve over decades. Clearly, therefore,
whatever prior stages I have gone through with Step One were not perfect. The
danger of this statement is that it suggests that the other Steps somehow
cannot be done properly or are permanently ongoing activities. This leads
people to thinking that the Steps somehow cannot be completed. Now, some Steps,
namely Ten through Twelve, are by their nature daily agendas of action, and, as
each day dawns, the agenda for that day lies ahead, regardless of what one did
yesterday. But the action Steps of Four through Nine are completable. The
Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions is quite right to suggest that such
completion might not be done perfectly from a technical point of view, but
completed they can be. Either Step Five covers the major defects and secrets or
it does not. Either the individual is holding something back or they are not. Either
the Step Nine amends have been done to the best of the ability of the
individual or they have not. Either there is a further action that could be
taken but has not, or there is no such further action. And, once the
preparations of Step Four and Step Eight are complete, Steps Five and Nine can
be quick. Even Steps Six and Seven in the Big Book suggest that completion is
possible: “We have emphasized willingness as being indispensable. Are we now
ready to let God remove from us all the things which we have admitted are
objectionable? Can He now take them all—every one? If we still cling to
something we will not let go, we ask God to help us be willing. When ready, we
say something like this: “My Creator, I am now willing that you should have all
of me, good and bad. I pray that you now remove from me every single defect of
character which stands in the way of my usefulness to you and my fellows. Grant
me strength, as I go out from here, to do your bidding. Amen.” We have then
completed Step Seven.” (Page 76). The message Ebby carried to Bill also
suggests completion as a possibility: “My friend promised when these things
were done I would enter upon a new relationship with my Creator; that I would
have the elements of a way of living which answered all my problems.” (Page
13).
12. Powerlessness means entire lack of power
I have heard this line quoted, “But there is One who has all
power—that One is God,” followed by the statement, “If God has all power, how
much power do I have: none!” This is not true. God originates all power but
delegates that power to us: “We have recovered, and have been given the power
to help others.” (Page 132). Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions indicates that
we must exercise our power through cooperation with God “But in no case does He
render us white as snow and keep us that way without our cooperation.” (Page
65) The Big Book indicates we have a significant part to play in our ridding
ourselves of self: “God makes that possible. And there often seems no way of
entirely getting rid of self without His aid,” (i.e. we can go much of the way
but not all the way alone) (page 62). And the crowning evidence: “We can
exercise our will power along this line all we wish. It is the proper use of
the will.” (Page 85). We thus do have power. Our job is to exercise that power
and have that power magnified by the additional power that God gives us through
Step Eleven. To negate our power and our will is to deny the part that we have
to play in our own recoveries and to attempt to outsource everything to God.
That seems very humble, but it’s really babyish: babies require adults to look
after them. Rather, we are agents with delegated authority and power: “intelligent
agents, spearheads of God’s ever advancing Creation” (Page 49).
13. Read the black bits of the page
I have some sympathy with this ill-tempered and patronising
instruction. After all, one certainly must not read what is not there. But it
is quite wrong to suggest—even as Dr Bob apparently suggested—that there is no
interpretation possible. All language requires interpretation to be understood.
Yes, the Big Book contains clearcut directions, but the directions are clearcut
only as far as they go. Some instructions are indeed quite plain, e.g. “Before
we begin, we ask God to direct our thinking, especially asking that it be
divorced from self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking motives” (page 86), whilst
others are not. The Step Five instruction “We pocket our pride and go to it,
illuminating every twist of character, every dark cranny of the past. Once we
have taken this step, withholding nothing, we are delighted,” requires
interpretation to determine exactly how the content from Step Four is to be turned
into the material for Step Five and then conveyed. The Big Book itself shies
away from suggesting that the reader must merely blindly follow what the Big
Book says, without consideration, e.g. “we wish to lay down no rule of any sort”
(page 81) and “Although these reparations take innumerable forms, there are
some general principles which we find guiding,” (page 79), which suggest that
we are to take the ideas and be guided by them. If this does not require
interpretation, I do not know what does.
14. “God is everything” suggests pantheism
“God is everything or else He is nothing. God either is, or
He isn’t” (page 53) is not Bill W sneaking in pantheism through the back door,
suggesting that God is literally avocados, Saturn, the GDP of Bulgaria, and
Marjory’s new hat, yet—the facetiousness aside—the pantheistic idea that God is
the universe and everything in it, and that everything is really God in
disguise is often propounded and traced back to this line. The pantheistic idea
is nowhere in evidence in the literature as Bill’s conception or theology, let
alone AA’s theology. Rather, the aggregate of references to God suggests that
God is a creative intelligence, a principal, with whom we, as separate agents,
are placed in a specific relationship. I am not God. You are not God. God is
separate, and we relate to God. When this line is taken in context, in
particular when the ‘God is everything’ idea is taken in the context of what
immediately follows, this enjoins us to get off the fence and decide once and
for all whether or not a creative intelligence is capable of saving alcoholics
from their alcoholism. Either God exists or God does not. Either God can save
us or God cannot. Either there is hope or there is not. Either we can be saved
or we are doomed. God, to be God, must necessarily be all-powerful. That is the
everything or nothing referred to.