THIS IS the fourth edition of the book “Alcoholics Anonymous.” The first edition appeared in April 1939, and in the following sixteen years, more than 300,000 copies went into circulation.
The second edition, published in 1955, reached a total of more than 1,150,500 copies. The third edition, which came off press in 1976, achieved a circulation of approximately 19,550,000 in all formats.
Already by 1976, 19,550,000 copies. That’s a lot of copies. People aren’t stupid. There must be something in this book worth reading and implementing. I tried AA without the Big Book. I tried it with Big Book sprinkles. Then I tried the Big Book with AA as a supporting vessel. Then, it worked, and I got the promises promised.
Because this book has become the basic text for our Society and has helped such large numbers of alcoholic men and women to recovery, there exists strong sentiment against any radical changes being made in it. Therefore, the first portion of this volume, describing the A.A. recovery program, has been left largely untouched in the course of revisions made for the second, third, and fourth editions. The section called “The Doctor’s Opinion” has been kept intact, just as it was originally written in 1939 by the late Dr. William D. Silkworth, our Society’s great medical benefactor.
This is the basic text. Other texts supplement it but do not replace it. Where they conflict, the Big Book takes precedence. The AA recovery programme: the contents of the first portion (up to page 164), not just the summary on page 59 or the scrolls. ‘Doing the programme’ means doing everything in this portion, promptly, diligently, and as indicated. It has helped large numbers of alcoholics: complete this process, and then see what, if anything, is left over.
Today, if in trouble, I simply go back to the Book and do exactly what it says, e.g. Bill’s Story, second half; pages 84 to 88; pages 98 to 99. Go line by line, adopt the attitude, take the action, get the results. Problem solved.
The second edition added the appendices, the Twelve Traditions, and the directions for getting in touch with A.A. But the chief change was in the section of personal stories, which was expanded to reflect the Fellowship’s growth. “Bill’s Story,” “Doctor Bob’s Nightmare,” and one other personal history from the first edition were retained intact; three were edited and one of these was retitled; new versions of two stories were written, with new titles; thirty completely new stories were added; and the story section was divided into three parts, under the same headings that are used now.
Doctor Bob’s Nightmare remained unchanged, because it required no amendment. It was perfectly fit for purpose as it stood. Its last line represents the end of self-reliance and the end of fear:
Your Heavenly Father will never let you down!
I am given a simple choice: reject or accept this principle. If I accept this principle, and I turn to God, I will not be let down.
If I reject this principle, I will remain in fear.
The choice is simple, but the choice is mine alone.
Furthermore, there is a heaven, a spiritual or metaphysical dimension of which I had been unaware.
Where is God’s ultimate home? Heaven.
Who is God? My parent: that of which I am the offspring, and thus of the same substance, with a tiny fragment of God’s purpose delegated to me to achieve on earth.
The whole of the solution is contained in this line.
In the third edition, Part I (“Pioneers of A.A.”) was left unchanged. Nine of the stories in Part II (“They Stopped in Time”) were carried over from the second edition; eight new stories were added. In Part III (“They Lost Nearly All”), eight stories were retained; five new ones were added.
*The pioneers of AA whose stories were retained died sober. When they publish a new edition of the Big Book, and they want to retain a story, I’m told they check the person died sober or is still sober and still alive.”
It ain’t over till it’s over. I won’t die sober until I’m dead.
The programme remains a one-day-at-a-time programme, and alcoholism is still alive in me. The physical craving, if triggered, will be activated: in others, I have seen this over and over. The alcoholic mind will periodically shoot up the idea of a drink or a something to my Command and Control Centre, and, without a defence from God, that Command and Control Centre will sooner or later simply obey that thought.
The Pioneers are those that plot the course through uncharted territory. One’s own future is always uncharted territory. What I take from the stories of the Pioneers is the principles by which uncharted territory can be navigated.
A good exercise: for as many days as they are stories, go through each of the Pioneers stories, line by line, and ask: What can I learn from this? How can I apply this? What current problem could this be used to help solve? What should I commit to memory and recollect constantly?
This fourth edition includes the Twelve Concepts for World Service and revises the three sections of personal stories as follows. One new story has been added to Part I, and two that originally appeared in Part III have been repositioned there; six stories have been deleted. Six of the stories in Part II have been carried over, eleven new ones have been added, and eleven taken out. Part III now includes twelve new stories; eight were removed (in addition to the two that were transferred to Part I).
The Twelve Concepts for World Service appear to be an obscure part of AA, and I was certainly unaware of them for years after joining AA.
The Steps sort out me.
The Traditions sort out the groups, the groups’ relationships with each other, the groups’ relationships with the world, and my interactions with you.
The Concepts sort out how the fellowship and service structure operate and how the process of ultimate authority and responsibility (residing with God) is delegated down to the individual servant (me, you) through the structure.
The Concepts tell me what my place in the universe is and what my job is. They tell me what my business is and what is not my business. They tell me to be absolutely diligent in everything I do and to settle for nothing less than perfection in the performance of all my duties (I’ve not reached that, so I’ve not settled: I keep moving, assessing, learning, and improving). They tell when it is my job to say things others might find extremely uncomfortable and when to zip it. They tell me what to pay attention to in the world and what to leave to others. They contain the solution to fear: everything is in God’s hands, as he is the Ultimate Authority. They tell me that nothing happens in the world outside His will, as he is the Ultimate Authority. They tell me how to relate to the future. They tell me how to relate to the past. They tell me how to handle money (the question that horrified me: Do you have savings equal to two years of normal expenditure plus a pot of operating capital to cover fluctuations in cash flow? If not, why not? If not, what are you doing to do about it?). They tell me to avoid perilous positions of power. They tell me that if I’m fit for a job and available, I must step up to the plate, but that, if I’m not fit for the job, I am to continue working on my understanding and effectiveness until I’m ready. They tell me that service is about delivering what people need, not about me, not about my power or prestige, not about my recovery, not about my ambitions, not about my self-importance. They tell me to plan and organise and not be a victim of fate or circumstance. They train the muppet-hood out of me. They teach me to be far-reaching in vision but essentially focused on today. They teach me grace.
All changes made over the years in the Big Book (A.A. members’ fond nickname for this volume) have had the same purpose: to represent the current membership of Alcoholics Anonymous more accurately, and thereby to reach more alcoholics.
One aspect of a spiritual awakening is that it awakens one to the vast ocean of suffering out there, both in and out of the fellowship. One wants to reach them, and one knows immediately that the job will never be done, that even if one were to devote every hour in the day to this task, the surface of the problem would barely be scratched.
It is easy to try to apply force to this. This does not work.
The above passage talks about two features: accurate representation of the facts, and reach.
When sharing, I need not play down for fear of frightening people off. If God helped me, that’s what I say.
When sharing, I need not play up to promote the message. The ordinary truth is entirely sufficient.
I need not share like I’ve only moments ago been saved from a devastating house fire.
Yes, it was bad, but it’s over, and now it’s good.
So, I do not need to hedge, and I do not need to dramatise urgently and breathlessly.
What about reach?
Think about a radio signal.
The radio signal must be clear and powerful.
I am responsible for clarity.
God is responsible for power.
Then, there must be no interference.
This means my delivery should be clear, coherent, cohesive, concise, and free of the rambling, digressions, hesitations, and fillers characteristic of ordinary conversation.
When I’m sharing, I’m not chatting, I’m broadcasting, in the hope that someone might tune in.
If they do, great. If they don’t, that’s fine, too.
The results are in God’s hands.
If you have a drinking problem, we hope that you may pause in reading one of the forty-two personal stories and think: “Yes, that happened to me”; or, more important, “Yes, I’ve felt like that”; or, most important, “Yes, I believe this program can work for me too.
The Book is not very optimistic. It hopes there might be one pause in reading several hundred pages. And even that’s just a hope, not a certainty.
The writers of this Book know alcoholics.
They know that me, as an alcoholic, will read something, or appear to read something, nodding away, saying, “I know”, and taking absolutely nothing in. I can read, listen, go to meetings, and remain as self-contained as an egg, allowing nothing to penetrate.
No real engagement. No pause. No thought. No reflection. No imagination.
Why?
According to the ego, ‘I got this!’ [Horrible grammar, but that’s the phrase.]
Except, ‘I don’t got this!’
I emphatically ‘don’t this!’
When I slow down, engage, pause, think, reflect, and imagine, change is possible.