I haven't had a drop of alcohol since July 27, 2009. And while I would love to arrogantly boast that I was able to do this through the exercise of my own Nietzschean-like will, I can't. I was drinking about a case (that's 24, for you teetotalers) of beer every night of the week, give or take a six-pack here and there. In the last days of it all, I knew a despondency I had never known before in my life, and I've never been Pollyanish by any means. I had gotten to the point where real life consequences had started rearing their ugly heads, and hardly a night went by that I didn't either contemplate suicide or simply wish I would not wake up in the morning. I'm in no rush to return to that way of life.
So I'd be a liar if I said that AA didn't play a pivotal role in helping me stay sober these past ten months. For the first six months, I went to a meeting at least once a day, sometimes more. I'd say I averaged about nine or ten meetings a week. The tranquil and welcoming atmosphere of these meetings, as well as the degree of sometimes heart-breaking honesty on display during them, helped me to achieve a peace of mind and a sense of belonging that I desperately needed. As a dyed-in-the-wool anti-theist, I struggled with all of the God talk and the fact that God (or, if you insist, a Higher Power) was central to almost all of the 12 steps. But for that six months, it was so crucial that I have the knowledge that I wasn't going through this by myself that I just let it go and overlooked what I didn't like about. Shit, I even held hands with a bunch of men and said The Lord's Prayer at the end of the meeting sometimes.
Inevitably, of course, I began to heal, both physically and, to a much smaller extent, mentally. Old timers in AA have a saying that "When the body heals, the liar returns." By this they mean that, as you grow stronger physically, your self-confidence grows, and, conversely, the memory of how bad-off you were as a drunk starts to dissipate. I suspect, however, that they also mean something a little more subtle, but just as real. My belief is that they are also referring to the fact that as your level of desperation lessens, your willingness to simply accept whatever AA doctrine is presented at face value also diminishes. It is an ingrained fear, I think, that all "true believers" have; that one day, their bright-eyed newbies will begin to think for themselves, which can only result in disaster for an organization that constantly encourages members to "retire from the debating society."
At the heart of AA, of course, is the inherent weakness and ineffectuality of the individual and his will. The individual is capable of nothing decent in and of himself (after all, they say, it was all that fine independent thinking or "playing god," if you will, that put you in a state where you had to run to AA for help). Because of this, a power greater than the individual is necessary in order to have any hope of true recovery from addiction. Take a quick look at the 12 steps of AA, and it is readily apparent:
1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
As you can see, five of the steps refer to God directly, and one makes mention of a mysterious Power (note the capitalization) greater than ourselves. The true believers are quick to point out they advocate belief in God as one may understand him, meaning everyone is free to choose his own conception of God. Sorry, not buying it. Bill Wilson, one of the co-founders of AA and author of the Big Book, clearly had a judeo-christian deity in mind when writing it. He was a Christian himself and believed sobriety was not possible if one lived a godless existence. Also, there is no mention of what one is to do if one's conception of God is a deity who doesn't insist on being bowed or prayed to. The idea of being prostrate before an omnipotent sky daddy is prevalent throughout the twelve steps. This view of God as eternal watchdog is distinctly western, and leaves little to no room for just any old god conception out there. Most AAs are quick to tell you that "the program" is spiritual and no religious, but let's not fool ourselves: if you are on your knees and humbly asking God to remove your shortcomings, well I'm sorry, but that's religion.
The condescending attitude taken towards those who might not believe in a big bearded Jehovah is prevalent throughout the We Agnostics chapter of The Big Book. It begins almost right away by threatening your very life: "To one who feels he is an atheist or agnostic such [a spiritual experience] seems impossible, but to continue as he is means disaster, especially if he is an alcoholic of the hopeless variety. To be doomed to an alcoholic death or to live life on a spiritual basis are not always easy alternatives to face." Strong words, indeed. I have an inherent distrust for anyone, no matter how much I might respect them in other areas, who tell me that I am doomed to die an early death if I don't hold the same views about the universe as he does. Note also the patronizing tone towards those who feel they are atheist or agnostic. As if one could not come to that conclusion through logic and a careful consideration of the available evidence, but only through some visceral gut reaction not too far removed from some mindless savage.
To Bill W's credit, he does admit at several points in the We Agnostics chapter that he cannot say why belief in God works; only that he believes that it does. Such humility notwithstanding, it is still impossible to ignore the book's almost casual brushing-aside of anything that resembles logic: "We read wordy books and indulge in windy arguments, thinking we believe this universe needs no God to explain it. Were our contentions true, it would follow that life originated out of nothing, means nothing, and proceeds nowhere." And?? The idea that those conclusions might very well be correct doesn't appear to have even crossed Bill's mind. Read one page over, and you get the following gem, when describing a friend's conversion to faith and the inner dialogue he was having with himself: "'Is is possible that all the religious people I have known are wrong?'" Well yes, yes it is. It's quite possible, in fact. Bill is obviously a sincere man, and I do not doubt his faith for a second. What I am doubting is that God belief is the answer to someone who does not believe.
One final illustration of the contempt AA espouses for the non-believer can be found in 12 and 12, AA's more structured and layered companion book to The Big Book. The book goes over each of the 12 steps and 12 traditions of AA in detail, with thoughtful essays on each topic. In the section on the traditions, under "Tradition Three" (the third tradition states that "The only requirement for AA membership is a desire to stop drinking"), Bill relates a story about the early days of AA and how a salesman named Ed became a member of one of the groups. Ed was an atheist, and this naturally chapped the asses of many of his fellow AAs. Unlike many of his non-believing brethren, Ed was not at all silent about his lack of belief. He was brash and loud and boastful, and this pissed everyone off even more. They kept saying, hoping, he would get drunk soon and have to turn to God for help. This kept not happening, and everyone kept getting angrier and angrier. One day, when Ed's job had taken him out of town, he called one of the members, said he was in trouble (i.e. he wanted or had taken a drink) and needed help. One of AAs strongest directives is for all its members to help a fellow drunk when they honestly want and need it. But not this time. This time, the members declared "Leave him alone! Let him try it by himself for once; maybe he'll learn a lesson!"
Never mind that Ed might end up drinking himself to death that night or killing himself or someone else on the road! Never mind that helping other drunks is precisely what AA was founded to do. See, Ed didn't believe in the right things, so he was left to fend with his demons by himself. Luckily, Ed lived through the story and became another bible-thumping AA, but they had no way of knowing that at the time. Oddly enough, Bill presents this story as some sort of inspiring example of the brotherhood of AA. Still haven't figured that one out.
There are plenty of good people in AA who don't believe in God and who are able to just let it go and let the program work for them. I am not one of those people. It would be nice to be made up that way, but then again I'm kind of glad I'm not. One argument that AA has for which I have no response is that their program works. I can testify that it does. Had it not been for AA, I am fairly certain I would have drank during that first six months of sobriety. What remains unclear to me is how I am supposed to make this program work long-term when its central tenet is something I find repulsive. And even if I were able to look past that, how do I overlook the folks in AA who still think that believing in their god is the only way I can stay alive? Do you have the answer? Send me a memo if you do.
