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THE "CULTS"

THE CULT-LIKE PARTS OF MY LIFE

Working on this project for the last four months has taught me that it’s difficult to form a lot of conclusions about what defines a modern-day cult. In a lot of ways, that’s what led me to narrow down this project to writing about the cult-like parts of my own life.

 

But I am confident that everyone has elements of their life that are cult-like — some more obvious than others. I don’t believe that any of the topics I’m exploring are straight-up cults. This project is called Cult-Like for a reason. But these essays explore why the peculiar tendencies of sports fandom, skiing, and Trader Joes — how they fit certain traits of a cult.

 

So, with that being said, let’s explore.

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i. the religion of sports fandom

The age-old question is if all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do so too?

 

That question is a moral one, where you contemplate whether you value safety or friendship. There’s no exact right answer.

 

But when 110,000 people are streaming from the stands at the Big House onto the field because Michigan just beat Ohio State for the first time in 10 years, you don’t think it through. You just jump.

 

My time at Michigan over the last four years has produced a lot of great memories. But nothing will top the day Michigan beat Ohio State. The catharsis that I felt was something I’ve rarely experienced. Jammed inside the Big House with 110,000 other people living and dying on every play, there was something special about the moment. The game took place in November of my junior year and by this point I had attended numerous games at the stadium. But this one just felt different. You could feel the desperation of the fan base hoping that maybe this could be the year. I felt it myself. I screamed and yelled and even though it was 27 degrees and snowing and I was standing sideways just to be able to fit on the bleachers, I was burning with excitement. Nothing else mattered except winning this football game.

 

Since 2011, Michigan had not defeated Ohio State. The Buckeyes are the Wolverines’ biggest rival but the game that had once been an early Christmas gift for Michigan fans began to produce nothing but dread. Michigan had lost 8 straight games and won only three times since the turn of the century. Entire cycles of students had come to Ann Arbor as freshman and graduated four years later without seeing a win. But still, on that fateful November day, people believed.

 

The cult of sports fandom in general is so fascinating because inherently professional sports don’t really matter. Afterall, it’s a bunch of people playing a game — and who wins is ultimately meaningless. But the way I was raised always made sports matter to me. My dad grew up in Philadelphia and has always been a huge Philly sports fan. Growing up, I could tell how much he was into watching sports and I became indoctrinated in this practice. Sunday afternoons in the fall were always a time for us to watch the Eagles game together. I’m extremely passionate about the teams I follow and a big reason I wanted to come to Michigan was because of the sports scene they had on campus. I could’ve cared less about Michigan football’s success four years ago, but now I’m fully invested in the team’s success. So, when Michigan actually beat Ohio State, people had no choice but to pour out onto the field. There was an intense energy as everyone felt the rush of the euphoria that came with a win of that magnitude. It was emotional, and it's a game that I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

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But why do sports drive us to these places? Why do wins like beating Ohio State make Michigan fans deliriously happy and losses feel so devastating?

 

It might be because supporting Michigan Football is kind of like being a member of a cult. Dressing up in maize and blue every Saturday with ritualistic devotion; Packing the Big House no matter the weather conditions; Letting your emotional state hinge on how successful the Wolverines are performing; it’s all very cult-like.

 

When doing research, I came across an article from The Atlantic titled “The Seven Signs you’re in a cult.” This article lists seven different indications that the activity you are participating in could be a cult. These three really stood out to me: opposing critical thinking, isolating members, and penalizing them for leaving, and emphasizing special doctrines outside scripture. Not every element felt relevant. For example, some of the other signs were “Crossing biblical boundaries of behavior” and “Dishonoring the family unit.” But I did feel like some of the traits had a lot of parallels to sports fandom and helped explain the cult-like nature of rooting for a sports team. Here’s what I found.

 

Opposing Critical Thinking

 

A huge tactic that cult leaders use to keep their followers aligned with the cults’ goals is by cutting off all outside media attention and not letting them be aware of criticism. I think that this actually exists in sports fandom as well, but the information is suppressed differently. In a cult, all the information comes from the top down and the cult leader is the one who is denouncing any negativity about the cult to his followers. With Michigan football, it’s not as if Michigan is hiding the existence of negative articles and telling their fans not to read them. Sports journalism is a huge industry and after every game there is going to be a variety of articles written about the team. But the fans can filter out the negative coverage quite easily. Any Twitter personality that talks negatively about Michigan football can be muted in a matter of seconds; any newspaper that writes negatively about Michigan can simply be avoided.

 

During my time in college, I have been a sportswriter for the Michigan Daily and this past year I covered the football team. I had to deal firsthand with the balance between positive and negative coverage. It was me and three other beat writers and we would write four stories off every game. Even though Michigan only lost one game last season, they didn’t play perfectly in every game which left room for negative articles even when they won. For example, Michigan played Illinois in a game they were supposed to win easily. Instead, they won 19-17 in a slog of a game that they were losing until the final seconds when they made a game-winning field goal. After the game, there were two types of articles written, and I’ll use our coverage from The Daily to showcase this point. Our beat wrote about the kicker Jake Moody and his heroic effort that won them the game, a very uplifting article. But, we also wrote a column saying that despite the win, the offense was not very good. Michigan football fans could have read both articles and gotten a well-rounded, accurate assessment of the strengths and weaknesses of the team. But most chose to only focus on the thrill of the victory, rather than how poorly the team played. 

 

Opposing critical thinking can create a sense of delusion and have the fans believing their team is better than they actually are. With a cult, the information filtering comes from the cult leader who makes sure their followers don’t see negative coverage of the cult. With sports fandom, it’s a decision made by the fanbase to ignore the negative coverage of the team, so they feel better about how good the team is, even if it’s unrealistic.

 

Isolating members and penalizing them for leaving

 

Another interesting tidbit from the Atlantic article was the concept of cults punishing members who leave. One way that cults thrive and create such devout followings is by homing in on the concept of an “in-group” and an “out-group.” Members are constantly tested for their loyalty and the fear of punishment for leaving creates a sense of fear and urgency that causes people to stay.

 

Sports fans do interact with the concept of penalizing members for leaving quite fervently. In sports, loyalty is a prevalent concept. When a player or coach leaves a team that they have had a lot of success with, fans have reacted quite angrily. Kevin Durant played the first nine years of his career in Oklahoma City, but he chose to leave the team as a free agent in 2016. OKC fans reacted vehemently, burning his jersey, and attacking Durant on social media. With Michigan football, head coach Jim Harbaugh has drawn the ire of fans because he has interviewed for head coaching jobs in the NFL the past couple of offseason despite winning the Big Ten championship the last two seasons at Michigan. Sports ultimately is a business and players and coaches can move around between franchises for the betterment of themselves, just as people do in every industry. But when someone who works at Google goes to take a job at Apple, they don’t have a fanbase they are leaving behind. Players and coaches have people rooting for them — and they risk facing a load of backlash when they leave. These relationships are completely parasocial, the athletes don’t owe anything to the fans. But fans feel so much emotion watching their teams and associate so much happiness with them winning that when a player leaves it can be heartbreaking.

 

Fanbases punish athletes and coaches for leaving or threatening to leave their team. It creates a sense of uneasiness and a fear of backlash for leaving, much like how cults prevent their members from getting out.

 

Emphasizing special doctrines outside scripture

 

The definition of a doctrine is a belief or set of beliefs held and taught by a Church, political party, or other group. The most commonly cited doctrine is scripture from the bible. A major sign of a cult is when there is the use of doctrines outside of traditional scripture that warp and play up unorthodox beliefs in order for the cult leader to advance their agenda. For example, followers of Charles Manson believed Manson was the second coming of Christ and that they were all his disciples. There wasn’t any legitimate scripture that could certify Manson’s claim, but he built up this narrative to create a sense of belief around his words. Sports fandom also utilizes outside doctrines, with certain quotes or phrases taking on a larger than life meaning. Michigan football has a few phrases that the fanbase holds as biblical lore.

 

Bo Schembechler is a revered coach in Michigan football history, who led the team from 1969 to 1989, with a career record of 234–65–8. His legacy is complicated and controversial, but there is no denying his impact on the program. His most famous quote is one he said in his first season in 1969: “Those who stay will be champions.” Schembechler put up a banner in the locker room that said this during his initial spring practice in Ann Arbor when numerous players transferred out of the program due to his grueling practices. Schembechler hung up that quote as a promise that the hard work and perseverance would pay off to the players who stuck it out with him. It proved to be true, as Michigan won 13 Big Ten Championships in his tenure. Today, the Michigan football team has that quote prominently displayed at the front of their practice facility, which is aptly named Schembechler Hall.

 

 

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Another famous quote from Schembechler is a pregame speech where he said, “No man is more important than The Team. No coach is more important than The Team. The Team, The Team, The Team.” “The Team, The Team, The Team” is the shortened version of the quote that continues to persist in Michigan football. This concept of putting the team over the individual is not a novel concept in sports but few teams emulate this mantra as starkly as stating “The Team” That quote is painted on the tunnel that leads out to the football stadium, prominently displayed for every player to see.

 

“The Team” and “Those who stay” are very well-known quotes that even casual fans of Michigan football are aware of. There is nothing inherently wrong with utilizing quotes for motivation but promoting these quotes as de facto scripture for the religion of Michigan football can be dangerous — because they are elevating quotes an immortal stature. That’s what differentiates these quotes from anything a coach or player says that gets printed in a newspaper. These quotes are idolized as scripture, which makes the devotion to Michigan football cult-like.

 

Conclusion

 

The evidence suggests that Michigan football definitely lends itself to some cult-like tendencies to build devotion and lore. Michigan fans surround themselves with positive coverage to create a bias and overconfidence in their team. They criticize players and coaches who attempt to leave the team. They hold quotes from Bo Schembechler in an extremely high regard that players and fans alike dedicate themselves to. I don’t think Michigan football is a cult. No one is forcing people to be a fan and there are plenty of routes to escape or control your level of interest in the team. But next time you pack yourself into the Big House with 110,000 others, consider what behaviors led you to be in that position — and just how willing you are to storm the field.

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Ski Lift

ii. welcome to ski town USA

The first thing that stands out to me is the sound. It’s a slow, rhythmic clunk.

 

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. 

 

I’m standing in the middle of the ski village at the base of Vail Mountain in Colorado, one of the most well-known ski towns in America, if not the world. It’s beautiful. It’s scenic. There are shops all around with quaint names like the Red Lion and Frost Bar and the Bad Kitty Lounge. I’m in a winter wonderland. It’s a fairy tale setting with brick walkways and colorful buildings combined with the perfect mountain backdrop.

 

But it’s almost too perfect. It’s ominous. And it’s that sound.

 

That clunking.

 

It’s the sound of ski boots pounding into the brick pavement, over and over. Everywhere I look, I see people awkwardly walking heel to toe, the only way you can step when you’re wearing heavy plastic boots. Soldiers marching towards their commander, the mountain.

 

It’s just after 9 AM. Some people got here as early as 6:30. There’s something that feels so cult-like about skiing. Perhaps, because it all feels so surreal. Inherently, it’s just another outdoor activity, a fun way to explore natural terrain. But unlike hiking or camping or fishing or biking, there’s a much higher barrier to entry. There’s a price to pay. 

 

I may sound skeptical but I’m actually moments away from joining in on the action, from walking in lockstep on this ominous march toward the slopes. I went to Vail for my senior year spring break. On my first morning there, I go to Vista Bahn ski rental shop, which is perfectly placed just feet from the gondola. I get fitted for my own, uncomfortable ski boots and then I receive my skis and helmet and poles and just like that, I’m ready to go. I’m ready to join the skiing army. The mountains are calling after all.

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The only thing left to do is pay. So, I hand them my credit card and pay way too much money for some ski gear that I’ll return in just two days’ time so they can pawn it off to the next adrenaline junkie. But now the skis are mine and I’m free to travel the mountain as I please — at least until my lift pass expires in two days.

 

Interestingly, downhill skiing is a sport which originated as a military practice in the mid 1700s. Scandinavian militaries would have soldiers’ race down rough terrain and cross-country ski with full backpacks on. It was a sport built out of discipline and toughness, used for training rather than for recreation.

 

So maybe this feeling like we’re all a bunch of troops is fitting. We load up into gondolas and they transport us to the top of the mountain. I get dropped off at the top of the gondola which it turns out is just at the middle of the mountain. Then this is where the ski experience truly begins.

 

This was something that struck me. With most of the smaller mountains I’d skied in the east coast and Michigan, what you see is what you get. You take a lift to the top and then you ski back down to the base. But here, the gondola ride is a portal to a different world. When you get off, you’re greeted with several chair lifts that take you to the peak of the mountain where you then can ski down a number of runs that are lengthy but only take you back to the middle of the mountain. You won’t return to the base until your day is done. All the runs ranked accordingly by difficulty. It ranges from green blue to double black diamond. There are more black diamond runs than anything else, but I think that’s the point. You physically must ski a certain number of times before you’ll be able to get down those most difficult runs. You can expedite your way to the double black diamonds if you spend even more money and pay for lessons. But those runs are a restricted tier that you only reach with practice. And ski tickets. And rentals.

 

Effectively a skiing pyramid scheme. But one I’ve already plunged into.

 

***

 

When I tried to figure out what exactly made skiing cult-like, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it at first. Obviously, the exclusivity and the expensiveness of skiing make it a polarizing activity but that’s not why it’s cult-like. In my opinion, I think skiing falls in the same category as SoulCycle or CrossFit — an athletic activity where the people who are completely bought into the activity love it but those from the outside treat it with skepticism. For this project, I considered trying a SoulCycle class to see what all the hype was about. I was curious why people swear by SoulCycle and wanted to understand the thrill and fulfillment they get from cycling. But I had apprehensions about participating in SoulCycle because I was already coming at it from a negative perspective. I didn’t understand the hype and even if I tried it, I knew I’d still feel judgmental and self-conscious about participating. The more I thought about it, though, I realized that the way some people feel about SoulCycle is how I felt about skiing.

 

When I go skiing, I enjoy all the little nuances of the experience. I love waking up early in the morning and getting to the mountain and taking the gondola up. I love clicking into my ski boots and checking out the fresh powder snow. I love the rush of adrenaline I get as I fly down the mountain. I love the feeling I get when I’m done skiing for the day as I ease out of my boots, tired but satisfied with the workout. Skiing is one of my favorite hobbies, even though I’ve only been a handful of times in my life. I didn’t grow up skiing every winter but once I skied for the first time I was hooked. Now, any chance I get to go skiing whether it’s in Vail or a local mountain in Michigan I jump at the opportunity. I’ll proudly put my ski boots on and clunk my way to the base of the mountain.

 

Skiing might be a cult. But it’s a cult I’m willing to be a part of.

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iii. an ode to Trader Joe

If someone asked me to describe Trader Joe’s in a nutshell, I’d put it like this: It’s a place where they are trying to cram seven aisles worth of stuff into three. It’s a grocery store unlike any other I’ve shopped at.

 

I think one of the biggest untold truths about college is that what you learn in the classroom is only a fraction of the journey. There are so many other parts of this four-year stretch that help you navigate the learning curve as you transition into adult life. One of those parts is grocery shopping. I survived entirely off dining hall food freshman year. But when I moved into my off-campus house sophomore year in 2020, grocery shopping suddenly became an important aspect of my life. I started cooking most of my meals at home as many restaurants were operating in a limited capacity due to the pandemic. Acquiring the supplies, I needed involved bi-weekly trips to the grocery store with my roommate. At first, we shopped exclusively at Meijer and Kroger, stores that serve their purpose but aren’t designed to make you feel much of anything. You walk in and you’re greeted with harsh, fluorescent lighting and 15-20 aisles worth of food and supplies featuring everything imaginable — from milk to tortillas to dishwasher pods to GMO tomatoes. You go in, acquire what you need, check out, and go home.

 

Trader Joe’s is different.

 

When you enter, it feels warm and welcoming. The store gives off the vibe of a homey, boutique shop which locals frequent. If you were suddenly dropped inside a Trader Joe’s with no idea where you were, you probably wouldn’t think that the company is worth over $16 billion and there are more than 530 locations across the U.S. In reality, Trader Joe’s is just another giant grocery store chain. But other grocery store chains don’t try to shed this label. They don’t care that they are a corporate giant because enough people continue to frequent those stores anyways. Trader Joe’s, on the other hand, has found a way to distinguish themselves — and the way they’ve done so is pretty cult-like.

 

When I go to the local Trader Joe’s in Ann Arbor, I’m immediately greeted with flowers. Not food but flowers. This feels like an attempt to make me forget where I am, that I’m visiting Trader Joe’s for the shopping experience and not just making a trip to the grocery store. The thing is it doesn’t feel deflating to be inside a Trader Joe’s. In other grocery stores you’re just wandering around off-white-colored shelves stocked with every major brand of products. Not Trader Joe’s. It’s bright. Every product is vibrantly colored. The shelves are made out of wood. The store is pretty small with only four different aisles, but everything feels intentional. Everything is designed to catch my eye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I walk into the first aisle and on the right side is meats and cheeses, which then turns into fruits, vegetables, and salad kits. Meanwhile the left side of the aisle is sliced bread, buns, tortillas, basically every bread product imaginable. You see what I mean. This is 4-5 aisles worth of stuff, but it’s all been crammed together into one. Everything designed for your convenience, cutting down on the number of brands they sell you so they can put out as many of their products as possible.

 

When you U-turn at the end of the aisle and turn back down the next one you enter the frozen foods section. This is where the magic really happens. There is every single type of frozen food from mac and cheese bites to acai bowls to chicken tikka masala to frozen pizza to mini tacos. Every single product is packaged in an endearing way, creating that warm cozy feeling of a home cooked meal right on the box. The whole shopping experience at Trader Joes is enjoyable.

 

What makes Trader Joe's cult-like is that their business model is dependent on them having a cult following. Trader Joe’s doesn’t have discounted sales, loyalty rewards, or a membership program, and they do minimal advertising. Instead, they are using the store as a marketing tool. By making the store so appealing to go to, it keeps people coming back. Here’s some of the tactics I picked up on: Trader Joe’s sells certain products at specific points in the year, like pumpkin flavored products during the month of October. By making their products unique and exclusive, it builds word of mouth about what they’re selling and drives demand. While I was in the frozen aisle, I watched someone exclaim, “Oh my god, they finally have it” and clear out the entire section of frozen Paneer Tikka Masala. There is even an Instagram account called “Trader Joe’s Obsessed” which has over 600k followers that posts with great enthusiasm whenever a product is back in stock. The list goes on and on. This is the only store like this. That excitement and adrenaline is something you just don’t see in the usual mundanity of grocery shopping. That’s how Trader Joe’s ropes you in.

 

Additionally, the employees at Trader Joe’s add to its cult-like nature. If you look up the employees for basically any major grocery store, they’re just listed as “team members.” But this is what Trader Joe’s website says.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They call themselves the crew. They don’t have managers or cashiers. They have a captain and merchants and mates. The store wants to embrace the ship theme and the “crew” plays an integral role in selling this experience. Everything from the product design to the wood shelving to the Hawaiian shirts the crew is wearing is intentional, designed to heighten the experience and get you to come back.

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***

 

None of this essay has been meant to disparage Trader Joe’s. It’s a great store that has played a major role in my grocery shopping experience in college. But it is worth taking a second to think about all the things Trader Joe’s does that are unlike any other grocery store. They sell unique products and cram the store into a couple of aisles — prioritizing quality over quantity to increase the chances consumers will be satisfied with the products available. They don’t do any rewards or sales yet make billions in profit. They build exclusivity and demand over seasonal products. Their staff members embrace the ship theme with their position titles. None of these tactics are necessarily sinister. But in the grocery store business, where every other successful grocery store thrives off mass marketing and stocking the shelves with a vast assortment of options — Trader Joe’s does the opposite.

 

They are creating an alternative option for grocery shoppers which produces a warm and welcoming experience that keeps consumers coming back for more. Maybe it's just a marketing ploy. But maybe, like any successful cult, they are trying to find grocery shoppers who are fed up with shopping at the big brands and pull them over to their alternative, utopian form of grocery shopping that does things in a way that doesn’t fall victim to the slog of modern society. A little cult-like I’d say.

 

Trader Joe’s isn’t a full-fledged cult. But the evidence certainly provides some food for thought.

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