I don’t enjoy being a misanthrope. Given the opportunity, I would sincerely and completely pour fourth all of my effort into loving humanity, into embracing our species, into living a socially egalitarian life.
But, wretch that I am, I continually discover that this is impossible for me.
There are some things about our society that make me want to break down and weep. They infuriate me; they depress me; they bewilder me; they destroy me. In my journey towards the loving of humanity, these things trip me, slap me, grab me, prod me, kick me, smite me, until my will is worn to a frayed, tattered, and broken mess. Then, battered and bruised, I surrender to my misery.
This popular new… theory, expounded in The Secret, is one such “thing,” one such hindrance, that frustrates my attempts at reconciliation with humanity.
The infernal, damned book has over 5 million copies in print, with over fifteen hundred thousand copies sold each week. It has received limitless celebrity attention and endorsement. It has spawned a movie, several blogs, and has an ever-expanding cult following.
But why? The ideas aren’t even new. Esther Hicks has been saying pretty much the exact same thing for years; so have many other people that the author of The Secret quotes and draws on in the New Age ideology. She even quotes from Shakespeare to Churchill, but misuses these quotes, of course–de-contextualizes them until they fit snugly into her theory–simply so that she can claim pretend to claim legitimacy. Obviously, it’s all a crock of lies.
The idea is that, due to the “laws of attraction” that are an intrinsic part of the universe, if you want at something hard enough, and focus on getting it hard enough, and, most importantly, believe that you will get it, then the forces of the universe will conspire to your benefit, and… you will get it.
Fundamentally, it’s simply a non-religious form of prayer. Ask, and ye shall receive. However, it’s even easier than prayer. Instead of having to believe in some big man in the sky, you merely have to believe in the universe. It’s much more accessible because of this; but it requires the exact same actions, the exact same attractiveness, and the exact same amount of scientific backing–none.
Actually, upon reflection, I come to the conclusion that it is different than religion; it’s worse. Much worse. It’s pure superstition.
Say you ask the universe for a shirt, a necklace, and a car. Well, later that day, your friend comes and gives you something that he no longer wanted, and you get a shirt. Your doubt evaporates; your mind opens; you’re a believer. The universe delivered something right into your hands, and now you are one with everything; king of the world, yes, even king of the universe; nothing is unaccessible anymore. Nevermind the possibility of coincidence, or the fact that you didn’t get the necklace or the car. No, these things pass from our minds, like the incorrect guesses of a fortune teller. We want to believe it to be true, and so when any sign appears that indicates that possibility, we latch onto it, ignoring the damning evidence to the contrary.
This is pure superstition. One day, someone walked under a ladder, and something fell on his head. The next day, he did it again, and something else fell on his head. Suddenly, walking under ladders is bad luck. Ignore coincidence, ignore chance; this is how the universe works. The space beneath a ladder is unavoidably a no-luck-zone. Never-mind the fact that, one day, absentmindedly, he walked under the ladder a third time, and nothing happened. He didn’t even notice that he had done it; and if asked whether walking under ladders was still bad luck, he would say yes; for, of course, these things are determined by the ladder’s intrinsic natural properties.
It is ridiculous. It is absurd. It is beyond forgiveness.
Unfortunately, however, it is a fundamental aspect of human nature.
If someone who looks like he knows what he’s doing tells you something, chances are, even though he is a stranger, you will believe him. There are countless examples of charlatans dressing as priests, policemen, doctors, coaches, teachers, fortune tellers, etc., who fool their subjects simply by presenting themselves with a respectable ethos. We are even ready to throw off the mantle of science for their sake.
Indeed, there are many (hilarious) examples of the exploitation of this aspect of humanity, done intentionally by those who intend to show just how simply it can be accomplished. One group had someone dress up like a police officer and bossed around a security guard . Another came up with the idea of “magnetic therapy,” tested it in a mall, and actually found many people who achieved “real results” (I would actually suggest watching the entire Penn & Teller episode, as it deals with the subject in the wider context of fake medicine. They actually get people to put snails on their faces, and call it a facial healing solution. The subjects love it).
In any case, these examples prove one major thing: people are gullible. The enormous success of The Secret is a testament to that amazingly frustrating aspect of humanity: people can very easily be manipulated by complete charlatans–and that’s never good.
When all is said and done, this book is simply another kind of religion, packaged by the brilliant advertisers as a philosophy. It exploits people’s desires for gratification without toil, for religion, for meaning and order in a chaotic world–obliquely, for a sense of comfort.
