The Trouble With AA – Part 1

4 minute read

Alcoholics Anonymous AA logo
The AA triangle logo, representing the three points of unity, service and recovery.

Author’s note: if you’re in the early stages of AA attendance and recovery, perhaps give it some thought before you read this article. It contains criticism of AA, and the last thing I want to do is cause you to doubt an organisation that may be of great help to you. You can decide if it’s right for you as you go. Your call. So…

 First of all, let me preface this post by saying something important.

If you’re struggling with your drinking and don’t know where to turn, do this: go to Alcoholics Anonymous. Same with drugs: go to Narcotics Anonymous. Don’t hesitate. Seriously, it might save your sanity, your marriage if you’ve still got or ever had one, your job, your children, your freedom and, ultimately, your life. AA has helped me hugely in the past, and I still go to this day and probably always will. Unless you really do live at the back ends of the earth, there will be a meeting near you (even then you’d be surprised where an AA meeting can crop up). Google ‘AA meetings near me’ or similar, give them a call for reassurance if you like, and proceed straight away to the next meeting.

One thing for sure, you’ll be greeted warmly and treated with compassion, respect and sympathy. And by this I don’t mean greeted weirdly either, by shiny-faced evangelists keen to recruit you into some kind of death cult. There will be no Kool-Aid. Instant coffee and biscuits is as hardcore as they get. You’ll simply be met with a smile and an invitation to take a seat, help yourself to a slice of cake and so on. There will be banners with the word GOD blazing at you from all corners, and much talk of prayer and higher powers. Don’t be put off by this. All you have to do is sit and listen. You may be invited to introduce yourself and perhaps share your story, but you absolutely don’t have to. You don’t have to give your name or your real name and you need never go back. No one will take your contact details or make any record that you were ever there. When they say ‘Anonymous’ they mean Anonymous. If you’re concerned about bumping into someone you know, thus revealing that you’re an alcoholic, guess what? So are they. And they’re there for exactly the same reasons you are. They won’t judge you or look amazed or horrified, or expose you in any way.

You have nothing to lose by attending a meeting or AA or NA – and potentially an awful lot to gain.

But…

Here’s the thing. Like any human institution, Alcoholics Anonymous has its faults. Which is fine up to a point. Flaws and faults affect us all, and we should be wary of defining ourselves or others by them. But this is an organisation that is in the business of tackling a life-threatening condition, so I don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask of it a few things.

For me, one of AA’s biggest issues is what you might term its ‘zero sum’ approach to sobriety. You’re either drinking yourself to death, or you’re not drinking at all. Now, to be fair, this kind of ‘all or nothing’ approach to recovery is going to chime with a lot of addicts, who may recognise in it an approach they bring to their own lives – often with decidedly mixed (or chaotic) results. I’ve found the ‘all or nothing’ model useful in understanding the way I operate for instance, and it certainly applies to my drinking. Having thoroughly tried and tested just about every other escape route known to man, I’ve come to the conclusion that I simply can’t touch a drop of alcohol. Or if I do, I have to accept the consequences – which are always disastrous in one way or another.

So sure, some alcoholics are going to get the ‘all or nothing’ thing. And even if your mind doesn’t fully work that way, after many years of drinking yourself into miserable oblivion or near death, the idea of that pain suddenly stopping can understandably seem very attractive indeed. But the problem is this: it’s a one-size fits all solution, that simply isn’t going to work for a lot of people. And then, when they fail or are seen to fail, the feelings of shame, guilt and utter self-loathing are very real and very damaging. I don’t believe that AA deliberately set out to make you feel shame – at least I hope they don’t – but if you ‘relapse’ (more on that idea in Part 2), you reset the sobriety clock to Day Zero and start all over again. You will as well, almost certainly, have someone in the fellowship come up and tell you that the reason you drank again is because you weren’t doing the program right. You should have put more work in. You should have gone to more meetings. You screwed up. It’s your fault. Try harder.

As they say in the ‘Big Book’, the fellowship’s much revered sacred text:

‘Rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path. Those who do not recover are people who cannot or will not completely give themselves to this simple program, usually men and women who are constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves. There are such unfortunates. They are not at fault; they seem to have been born that way.’

So, that’s you they’re talking to there, Mr or Mrs Relapse. You are ‘constitutionally incapable of being honest’, you massive loser. However long you’ve been sober before, go straight back to Day Zero, do not pass Go and hang your head in shame.

For me, this is a major problem with AA, and I see it all the time in ‘the rooms’. Essentially, it’s shame-based. If you don’t do what you should be doing, it’s your fault and shame on you for not doing it. Almost without doubt, and by its nature this is impossible to prove, people in desperate need of help with their drinking will have ‘busted’ and then chosen to not go back to AA because of the shame and embarrassment they will be feeling. For sure, there will be plenty of other people in the rooms – most in fact – who will also have relapsed at some point themselves and will sympathise, but it’s not them I’m aiming at – it’s the 12 Step program itself, the sacred idea that lays at the very heart of AA’s mission.

That’s enough words for now. More on this in Part 2, coming soon.

About Nick Jordan 78 Articles
Nick Jordan is the publisher and editor of Deep Sober, the director of NickJordanMedia and a general writer and author.

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